Chapter 11

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Mark woke up the next morning alone and not in his own room. Immediately the night flooded back to him so quickly he had to shut his eyes to comprehend it all. He turned onto his back and put his arms behind his head. It was a lot to think about, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to yet. He rose from the bed and checked his phone for the time. It was still really early, oddly enough, at only 8:13. He looked down at the clothes he had slept in and sighed, before walking out and downstairs. He knew that Dark had left the house last night, and he wasn't back yet. It would probably be a few days before he saw any sign of him again.

The living room was a mess. Broken pieces of glass were everywhere, the sofa was torn and spewing fuzz in a few places, and everything was about a foot away from its original place. Mark stood still and ran a hand through his hair. It was going to be a pain in the ass to clean all this mess up, and he had already started cursing the two demons for it.

Jack wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, but hidden away in his office. Mark wasn't even sure if he was working, or just contemplating life. Whichever it was, he looked back at Mark when he entered and a small smile slipped onto his face. Mark felt the muscles in his back relax and he smiled back.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," Jack said, spinning his chair to face him fully. Mark walked over and sat on the arm of his chair, making Jack's smile widen.

"How are you?"

"Better. I made myself some tea."

"Oh yeah? And did you save any for me?" Mark lifted one eyebrow at him, but he just laughed and stood up.

"Of course I did, you big dork. But you'll have to heat it up." Mark followed him out of the room.

"How long ago did you wake up?"

"Oh, uh, like an hour ago. I don't know I just couldn't really sleep all that well." Mark nodded sympathetically. They walked into the kitchen together and Mark watched as Jack poured him a cup of cold tea and put it in the microwave. He leaned back against the counter and stared absentmindedly. Mark watched him curiously, unsure if he should say something or not. The microwave dinged after a moment and Jack walked forward to check on it, but it wasn't warm enough yet so he put it back in. Mark put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. He wasn't sure what to say, but he was tired of feeling the space between them.

Jack looked down to try and hide his smile, but Mark could see it anyways. He stretched his arms around him into a tight hug, unknowingly rocking them back and forth. Jack breathed out through his nose and put his forehead on his chest. The microwave beeped again from behind him and he let out a chuckle before wiggling out of Mark's grasp. He pulled out the cup and handed it to Mark, who almost burnt his tongue by tasting it.

"Sorry," Jack said, laughing quietly. He sat down at the kitchen table while Mark put a couple ice cubes into his drink. He followed after Jack and sat across from him at the table.

"So," he said, watching the ice melt in his drink.

"So."

"Have you heard from them at all?"

"No." Jack shook his head.

"Is Anti still in his room?"

"I don't know." Mark fell silent. Jack coughed and sat up straight in his seat.

"Just ask, Mark." He looked him dead in the eyes and Mark gave him a small, sheepish smile.

"Did last night change us?" Jack took a deep breath, steadying himself and keeping the eye contact.

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