I jolt awake to the sound of thunder, my eyes meeting the neon stars on the ceiling which I quickly come to recognise as Mark's.
There's a soft glow of orange coming from the corner of the room in front of me, and I see Mark's back hunched over his study table as he types on his keyboard rapidly.
"Mark?" I call out, my voice raspy.
He swiftly turns his head, his eyes behind his glasses wide like they always are. "Yena," he breathes. "You're awake."
I nod groggily, pushing myself up from his bed to a sitting position. "What time is it?"
He turns his head back to his table momentarily. "Just a bit past one. Are you okay?"
I tilt my head in confusion. "Why aren't you asleep?" I ask, disregarding his question.
He shrugs, turning to me fully now on his swivel chair. "Just thought I'd get the rest of our assignment done— you've been doing most of it anyway. You should go back to sleep."
Thunder strikes again just as I am about to answer, and it makes me flinch slightly.
I notice Mark's eyes widen in panic, but before he could utter a word, I beat him to it.
"Can I ask you something?"
He seems uneasy at my sudden question, but agrees anyway. "Sure. Anything."
I hesitate for a while, fumbling with my fingers as I try to think of how to phrase my next statement. Now that I'm calmer, there's only one question that's burning in my mind. "I... just now. Why did you ask me to close my eyes?"
My brain goes back to the events that had unfolded earlier, and I instinctively bring my fingers up to my neck where a cotton gauze now sits. Through my previously hazed state, I could only barely remember Mark cleaning up my wound for me as I sit in his kitchen, his clumsy fingers working around the cut on my skin.
"Oh," Mark chuckles as he bounces his leg. "I mean, it would have been awkward if you saw me fail, right?"
I stare at him blankly, not the slightest bit convinced.
When he sees my deadpan expression, Mark clears his throat. "It was a distraction," he murmurs. "I just wanted to distract him so he would let go of you. I didn't know what I was doing, obviously, but it worked, didn't it? I mean, I would've still done it regardless even if you didn't close your eyes, yeah," he rambles.
"But what exactly did you do, Mark?" I ask exasperatedly, "I close my eyes, and the next thing I know, he's on the ground!"
Mark can't seem to find a response to my question, and I let out a sigh. Before I could press him any further, a familiar voice echoes from outside his room.
"Mel!"
Mark's eyes widen, and the next thing I know, I'm under the sheets.
With Mark's face right next to me.
I let out a gasp, but he is quick to bring up his fingers to my lips. Quiet.
I hear the door swing open, and I instinctively shut my eyes at the thought of getting caught, my fingers finding the material of Mark's t-shirt as I grip it tightly.
"Oh, you don't usually sleep this early," I hear Haechan mutter. "Oi, are you trying to suffocate under the sheets?"
My eyes fling open, only to be met with Mark's equally panicked ones. As we hear Haechan approach us, presumably to lift the blanket off so his roommate could breathe, Mark finally removes the material away from his face, and I am harshly pulled towards his chest, his other hand firm on the back of my neck as though to stop me from squirming.
"How many times do I have to tell you to knock?" Mark feigns grogginess as he pushes himself up slightly, pretending to have just woken up.
"It's not like you have a girl in your bed right now," Haechan snickers, and I am thankful that the darkness of Mark's room is enough to hide me from Haechan's sight— but even the dark is unable to hide the crimson red that is creeping up my cheeks.
"Get out," Mark groans, and from the small gap in between the blanket and his chest, I see him run a hand through his hair, his lips curved into what seems like annoyance.
"Jeez, chill, I just wanted to ask if you wanted tteokbokki," Haechan says, and I can imagine him rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Bye."
Soon, he is out of the room, and I hear Mark breathe a sigh of relief, his chest rising and falling as he did so.
"Sorry 'bout that," he mutters as he leans back against the headboard, peeking at me through the hole. "You good?"
I nod my head wordlessly.
"Good," he says quietly before shutting his eyes, and I'm suddenly hyper-aware of my surroundings— or rather, the position we're in.
I'm not sure if Mark doesn't notice or if he just simply doesn't care, but after the... situation that even got us into this mess in the first place, I find myself still leaning against his chest as I feel his breaths slow down, the sound of rain in the background accompanying us as it pit-patters against his window.
It's comfortable, very comfortable— too comfortable, but I can feel my blood rushing in my ears and I don't think I can take it any longer.
"Um..."
Mark shifts, and soon his eyes are on me before they widen in realisation. "Oh," he stammers. "I'm- I'm sorry. Is... is this okay?" He asks carefully as he puts a little distance between us, peering down at me while waiting for my response.
"Yeah. Yeah, this is okay," I manage to reply, though it only comes out as a hushed whisper because of the shrill ringing in my ears and loud thumping of my heart. I'm not sure why I'm feeling like this— my body is probably just going haywire because of what had happened earlier, right?
Of course. What other reason could it be?
"Okay. Yeah, okay," he replies just as softly before bringing me to his chest once more. I'm not sure why we're whispering, but for some reason, it feels right.
My heart is still beating erratically in all directions, and I'm relieved to know that Mark is just the same as I feel his chest under my palm. The sound of the rain manages to calm me down slightly, though I don't miss the way his arm would tighten around my torso every time thunder strikes.
It's comfortable, very comfortable— too comfortable, and soon I find myself lulling to sleep in the arms of the boy who's made his mark in my life more than I would like to admit.
🕸️
I wake up to the same ceiling of stars, though they are no longer glowing due to the room now being brightly lit with sunlight seeping in through the blinds.
My vision starts to clear up after I rub my eyes a few times, and that is when I realise that the owner of the room isn't in here with me.
Confused, I push myself up to a sitting position, and a small post-it note falls to my lap.
Out to buy bfast!
I left u a change of clothes on the study table so u can go take a shower, haechan's not home so dont worry.
Be back soon
Mark :)
I frown at his note. Couldn't he have just dropped me a text?
I scan the room before my eyes land on his study table, and sure enough, a fresh set of hoodie and sweatpants is sitting there waiting for me.
Mark's room looks considerably more spacious in the sunlight, though just like any other regular college boy's room, it is slightly untidy.
A few articles of clothing litter his hardwood floor, the boy not even bothering to pick them up to put them where they belong in his laundry basket— I imagine he probably just sucks at playing Kobe from his wardrobe.
Atop his dresser sits random knick-knacks which don't look like they belong together— a PS4 controller, a lava lamp- and is that an opened bag of chips?
Deciding I've had enough of daydreaming, I stretch one last time before planting my feet on the floor, turning around to make his twin-sized bed which doesn't take me long at all.
I pad towards his study table to get my fresh set of clothes, and I can't help but to marvel at his desk.
It is filled with random stationery accompanied with sheets of paper strewn around messily, and I wonder how he's able to keep up with his different assignments despite how disorganised he is. I know better than to mess around with them though, knowing Mark is probably just one of those people who has their own system of doing things that work best for them.
I take the bundle of clothes into my hands, careful not to touch anything else. Before I could leave the room however, my eyes find a stray piece of paper at the corner of his table, the top portion of it tucked under a weight so as to prevent it from flying off his desk.
I assume it's probably for his Science Club based off the chunk of words and formulas that my pea-sized brain is failing to comprehend, the only words that I'm able to understand being Version 3.01 at the top.
There are doodles that accompany his notes— some hexagonal shapes and a drawing of a flask on a bunsen burner, but even those did nothing to help me in trying to understand what this is about considering the title at the very top of the page is covered with the book on his desk.
I could imagine Mark being hunched over his table as he scribbles his notes messily, only occasionally stopping as he thinks of what to write next while he fiddles with his pen. I don't think he knows this, but he has the tendency to stick the tip of his tongue out whenever he's focused on something, a sight that I've witnessed one too many times. He'd do just that, rinse and repeat.
For some reason, the thought brings a smile to my face, and I don't bother stopping myself— hell if he isn't the nerdiest person I know.
The door swings open suddenly, and I am stolen of my own thoughts as I jump at the sound.
"Mark!" I gasp as I clutch the bundle of clothing to my chest. "You scared me."
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckles, as he sets his bag on the edge of his desk, his science notes now out of my sight. "How are you feeling?"
His question catches me off-guard. To be really honest, I haven't really thought of yesterday night's events ever since I woke up— until now, that is.
I don't blame Mark for his question though, knowing he's just asking because he worries for me.
I give him a small smile. "Better. Thank you. For yesterday."
I think my sentence came out all jumbled and weird, and it's probably because I'm just now reminded of the events that had unfolded after the incident yesterday.
You know, the one where Haechan had barged in, causing Mark to trap me under the sheets with him, and us continuing to stay in that position until daylight broke.
Yeah... I don't want to remember it. Especially not in the presence of the subject himself.
"Okay. Good." Mark gives me a lopsided smile before his eyes land on his bed. "You didn't have to make my bed, you know."
"It's fine, it's the least I could do."
Mark nods wordlessly as he takes a step towards me, and my eyes instinctively widen at the sudden lack of distance between us.
He brings his hand up to my neck where my gauze sits, and I can feel his fingers graze my skin slightly before he drops them back down.
"I'll help you change your bandage after you shower," he says, taking a step back.
I can literally feel air fill my lungs as he does so, helping me breathe properly once again.
"Y-Yeah," I stutter. "Okay. Cool. I'll... I'll go shower now."
Mark doesn't seem to notice me embarrassing myself like an idiot in front of him as he steps to the side, letting me exit his room.
He calls out something along the lines of the towels being in the vanity or whatever, but I'm far too focused on the thumping beating of my heart as I make my way to the bathroom.
"Get a grip of yourself, Yena," I mutter to myself as I shut the door behind me, leaning against it as I try to compose my breathing.
I go to the sink, resting my arms on it while I stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed red, the same way they do whenever I've had one too many to drink, and that is when I realise— I'm fucked.
I'm fucked, because it is only now dawning upon me that I have a massive crush on Mark Lee.