accipe me | Yumark

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Witches were perceived as evil beings by early Christians in Europe, inspiring the iconic Halloween figure.

"Hey, Mark? Are you a Christian?"

Mark poked his head around the doorway into his bedroom, puzzled as he replied, "Yeah?"

Yuta nodded, scrolling further down on the article he was reading on Mark's laptop - which he had somehow trusted him enough with, since Yuta's stuff was back at his place, and there was no way Mark was allowing him back there again. "Cool."

The witch just slowly disappeared around the corner and continued with whatever he was up to.

Images of witches have appeared in various forms throughout history—from evil, wart-nosed women huddling over a cauldron of boiling liquid-

Mark's not got warts. "Or a cauldron...?"

-to hag-faced, cackling beings riding through the sky on brooms wearing pointy hats.

"Brooms!"

Yuta jolted so hard that the laptop nearly went flying. "What the--?!"

Mark just laughed with his hands on his knees. "Brooms, really! You know, that whole misconception came from women rubbing brooms with medicine and sitting on them naked. And the flying part? The medicine made them high! Like, come on! For a start, just drink the medicine like the rest of us!" Mark calmed himself, and Yuta just stared at him. "I didn't just appear or anything. I just walked over like any other person would."

"That's..." At that point, he was more confused about the broom riding. Yuta looked the man up and down, heart racing when he remembered he had just scared him. "Are you trying to kill me? Frog me?!"

"I told you, I was joking!"

The Japanese just grumbled to himself and carried on reading.

In pop culture, the witch has been portrayed as a benevolent, nose-twitching suburban housewife; an awkward teenager learning to control her powers and a trio of charmed sisters battling the forces of evil. The real history of witches, however, is dark and, often for the witches, deadly.

"You know you can ask me anything and I'll answer, right?" Mark threw the beads over his head and hid them under his shirt. "I have nothing to hide anymore."

Yuta thought for a moment. "Could I do magic?"

"The word magic makes it sound like child's play, but no. Yuta, that is one thing you absolutely do not want. Once you perform a spell, your soul is forever tainted," Mark said, tone serious. He sat beside the older on the bed and folded his hands in his lap. "Next question."

Well, that was his dream of cooking breakfast from his bed and having it levitate to him gone.

Come on. Think of something.

"Um... can you, like..." he clicked his fingers. "Start a fire?"

Mark smiled. "I mean, sort of. Controlling the elements have never really been my thing, but let's have a go."

He watched Mark shuffle into comfort in his duvet and raise his hand. When Yuta leaned closer, he raised an eyebrow. "D'you want to keep your eyebrows?"

Yuta got the hint and shuffled back away again.

Mark closed his eyes for a few seconds, steadily breathed in, and when he opened his eyes again, irises ablaze, he shouted, "Ignis!"

The fire in his eyes cut out, and for a moment, nothing happened.

And then...

...still nothing happened.

Yuta had to catch his giggle in the palm of his hand to stop himself from bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. "Was that it?"

But Mark's eyes showed nothing but pure happiness. "Yeah!" His smile radiated throughout the whole room, and suddenly his palm was cupping Yuta's cheek. "Feel!"

Yuta had initially flinched away, but stopped. No, Mark hadn't managed to create fire, but his hand could have easily passed off as a hot water bottle.

Yuta looked up into Mark's glittering eyes. "That's actually pretty cool."

"Isn't it?! I've never done this much before!"

He seemed so excited about the fact he had managed to warm his hand up, that Yuta decided against laughing at him for the lack of flame. After all, smiling, happy, giggly like this, it warmed Yuta's heart.

Or maybe that was Mark's other hand.

"I can do it with both hands, too!"

Yuta felt something within him tickling and fluttering. It was a pleasant feeling, but when Mark looked up at him from his dimly glowing hand and the butterflies buzzed even more, Yuta found himself shying away from his touch.

"That's the first time you've felt warm since we've met," he said quietly.

Mark smiled, pink lips stretching into a pleased grin. "I know, right? I wish I was this temperature all the time."

"And you're not because...?"

"My soul's not exactly in my body right now."

"Literally not in your body?" Yuta's head tipped to the side. "I forgot about that."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And they liked it like that.

And suddenly Yuta found himself staring at the witch's lips.

"Hey," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Mark hummed. "Yeah?"

Before he had a chance to reply, the cloth that was wiping down the living room windows slapped onto his face. "What--"

"Pani, go away!" Mark shouted in frustration. He picked up the cloth with two of his fingers and threw it outside of his room. The cloth was inanimate for a few moments before it slowly slunked away across the carpet. "And go rinse yourself off! And use the dish soap, not the facewash!"

Yuta's eyes were wide and trained on the fabric. The cloth was moving. On its own. "I think... this whole witchcraft thing has only just hit me."

"What, like, literally? Or...?"

Yuta smiled and gently hit the witch's arm. "Funny."

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