Markiplier Imagines

36 // A Simple Regret

It pained me to see him sitting there, waiting for her to come back. He knew she was leaving, but he didn't know she was never coming back. She said that she was going to find something new, something unique. She didn't know she had already found that – him.

He was exactly what anyone was looking for, but they didn't see that. They saw a man with blue hair, a nice face, and a strong physic. They didn't see his humor, his smile, his kindness, his selflessness. And she, his – now – ex-girlfriend, apparently never saw it, either. I did, his best friend. I saw everything in him, every one of his defining qualities, every one of his flaws, every one of his perfections. 

I saw every feeling in his eyes: the happiness when he talked to his fans, the wonder when he talked about space or his friends, the sadness when he knew that he couldn't hold every single one of his fans that needed him or when he remembered his father, I saw it all.

He never saw one thing about me. Sure, he saw most of the things I saw in him, he was my best friend, but he never saw the love I felt for him. Not a friendly love, not a sisterly love, no. A love that I never knew was there, until I finally came to terms and told myself that I did, in fact, love him. Even if he didn't love me back, it was okay. He would still be my friend, and that was all I could ask for.

I stood up from the couch and walked over to the patio door, watching silently as Mark sat at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, and mumbled something about her coming back to him. I tapped the glass, gaining Mark's attention. He turned around, his eyes hopeful for her to be the one tapping the glass – I could see it. 

When he saw it was only me, he turned back around, looking back toward the crystal blue water of the pool. My heart hurt, but I opened the door, walked over to Mark and sat down beside him, my feet joining his in the water. I laid my head down on his shoulder, staring down at the water before closing my eyes. I felt Mark lay his head on top of mine, his arm winding around my waist and pulling me against his side.

"Where is she, y/n?"

"I wish I knew Mark. I wish I knew." His hand seemed to tighten on my waist, his whole body tensing. 

"Is she ever coming back?"

I couldn't answer, I didn't want to break his heart anymore than it already was. My silence seemed to trouble him, as he took his head off of mine, his arm and hand leaving my waist. I lifted my head off of his shoulder and looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears as he looked into my (e/c) eyes that were filled with sorrow and guilt. "Is she?"

"M-Mark," I started, unable to finish my sentence. He knew exactly what I was going to say, his head seeming to gravitate to his hands. Soft whimpers and sobs were emitted from him, his whole frame - normally strong and hard - weak, soft, and shaking. 

It crushed me, but any attempt I gave at trying to console him just ended in me flinching away because he would let out a growl-type-sound under his breath. I got up, leaving his side, and going toward the house. Before I opened the door, I heard Mark whisper something, "I-I'm sorry, y-y/n."

My hand hovered over the door handle, thoughts coming to a halt and my motion stilling. My hand dropped and my feet turned my body around, walking over to Mark and kneeling down behind him before wrapping his torso in a hug. I could feel his body stop trembling in my arms, but he didn't move his head from his hands. I didn't dare speak, there wasn't a reason for me to other than to console him, tell him I was sorry, when in reality, I wasn't.

I wasn't sorry that she left; I wasn't sorry that she didn't love him. I was sorry that he loved her; that he thought she was something that she never was. Soon, Mark finally took his head out of his hands, looking over his shoulder to me and making eye contact with my – slightly – glossy (e/c) eyes. His eyes were dull, not like when he remembered his father, no; they were dull like he had just lost the meaning of life. I didn't know what to say, I don't think I had ever seen him more hurt and cracked than this moment in time.

I looked down at my legs, seeing the short shorts I had put on before going to bed, then looked toward the water. I released Mark, standing up before sitting down on the edge of the pool and sliding myself in. I took small steps toward Mark, stepping in between his legs and grabbing his face softly so he would look at me. He leaned into my hand, closing his eyes and letting a few tears make their way down his cheeks. I whispered his name, along with a couple more words that made up the statement that everything was going to be okay.

I felt Mark's feet start to lower as he slid himself into the pool directly in front of me. When his bottom half was fully submerged into the water, he encircled his arms around my waist and dug his face into the crook of my neck. 

His torso was almost flush against mine, a soft hum coming from him every time I caressed his faded blue hair. A smile found it's way to both of our faces, his small but still existent. These moments are what made me love him, made me want to keep him happy and okay.

"I love you, Mark," I whispered, barely audible to myself. He seemed to hear me, his arms tensing around my waist. I let a shiver from the cold water and his warm arms run up my spine, knowing he felt it. 

He lifted his head, looking at me with alert and curious eyes. The brown orbs seemed to grow when he got curious, tracing my every feature on my face. A small blush creeped into my cheeks, making me look down and place my forehead on Mark's shoulder. "Y/n, look at me," I shook my head.

"Please?" Again, I shook my head, the heat on my cheeks starting to increase for no particular reason. "C'mon, Y/n," his voice started to sound desperate, "Please, just look at me." I looked up, seeing an almost broken-hearted expression on his face, much like the one he had when she said she was leaving. I couldn't help but stare as his eyes went through so many different emotions, sad, relieved, happy, curious, confused, helpless, and finally hopeful. He opened his mouth slightly, as if he were trying to say something, but it wasn't coming out.

"Yeah, Mark?" I urged, a sound that may have been a word at one time coming out of his mouth as a response. "I-I," he started, "Y/n, there's something I want to say." I looked at him expectantly, still feeling the semi-cold water wrapping itself around Mark and I's legs. "I love you, Y/n," his voice became confident as he stared at me. Then, something happened.

That something, I couldn't ever describe; there was no accurate description for the sensation I felt on my lips. My arms went behind his head instinctively, my hands linking together. His hands on my waist tightened, pulling me closer to him than I already was. Soon, the kiss became desperate, for both of us. I was desperate for the feeling to continue, he was desperate for my lips and a loving kiss, not a kiss that was simply placed upon his lips because someone thought that would keep him quiet or happy.

When he pulled away, it was for a mere second before he kissed me again, this time hungrier and more aggressive, and I loved it.

Once we pulled away the second time, our foreheads rested together as we caught our breath. He started to say something about her, but I shushed him. I didn't want to hear about her, she was gone, she was out of his life - for good.

"I'm so stupid," he whispered to himself, "I thought I loved her, when in reality, I loved you, Y/n." I giggled slightly, kissing his lips again before letting out a small reminder that we were still in the pool and the sun was going down. He chuckled, starting to walk us to the steps in the pool.

I realized then, I was no longer his best friend, I was no longer the third-wheel. I was his love, I was the one that was being kissed, I was the one he was holding in his arms, and I couldn't be happier.

did this suck, or what? XD There'll be another story out, don't worry. :D