never not ✧ mark lee

64

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When Mark awoke late the next day, he could not have been more content, because he was waking up with Dasom's arm laid across his chest while his arm was wrapped around her.

It didn't matter to him that he'd literally lost all feeling in his arm because her head had been resting on his shoulder the whole night.

She was his now, and he was hers.

Finally.

The previous night, they had stayed up a lot longer just talking, during which they decided that Mark would spend his week-long break with Dasom, staying with her at her place.

It might seem like it was a big jump to take immediately, but Mark had no idea when he would ever have this sort of free time again, so he knew it was the right choice.

She might have been asleep but Mark was sure it was past noon by then. He turned himself slowly and then pulled Dasom in, wrapping his arms around her. She just fit in them so well that he loved hugging her.

Sighing softly because of the movement, Dasom opened her eyes and found herself pressed into Mark's body, but it felt so nice that she just stayed quiet for a couple of minutes. It was a shame that he was wearing her hoodie though, because he smelled more like her than himself.

I'm stealing his Slowacid hoodie the first chance I get, she thought, snuggling into him.

"Are you awake?" Mark asked, feeling Dasom tighten her grip around him.

"Good morning Marker," Dasom said, smiling against his chest.

"Morning Des," he replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah but this makes me wish I was still asleep," she admitted. "I'm so comfy."

"Me too, but I know we're more fun when we're awake."

"Yeah, I'll probably be able to breathe better too if you let me go," Dasom said, wriggling out of Mark's arms. They now faced each other, heads resting on their hands over one pillow.

"So," she smiled. "How do you like your eggs in the morning?"

Mark let out a laugh. "I don't know if you've seen it, but I absolutely suck at making them myself," he answered. "So anything as long as I'm not the chef."

Dasom giggled. Of course, by that point she'd seen the record of Mark's eggs that were roasted by Gordon Ramsay online, as well as the atrocity of the undercooked ones from NCT's reality show.

"Well, too bad I'm actually out of eggs," she said, reaching to her bedside to look at the time on her phone. "It's also almost lunchtime, definitely not the morning."

"Can you make the chicken curry that you made the first time I came over to your old house?" Mark asked her. "That shit was so good, I gotta have it again."