Hotel Room #239

~Late Night~

'And now I'm falling for ya. I know I shouldn't, but I just can't help myself.' —Falling For Ya from Teen Beach Movie

Jack:

I stare at my screen, laying back on my bed. I've felt so empty inside every since I said goodbye to Mark at the airport. I really need to get a grip. Maybe a drink would help?

I hop off my bed, making my way to the kitchen. I look through the cupboards, searching for something strong. I finally find a scotch, and pour myself a cup.

I slam back the glass, gulping down the bitter taste. I instantly feel a buzz throughout my body, and I close my eyes in relief.

Closing my eyes was definitely a mistake. As soon as I do, I see Mark standing in front of me with that goofy smile. My heart leaps in my chest, and I have an urge to reach out for him. I open my eyes immediately, mentally scolding myself for my behavior.

Obviously, the drinking isn't helping with the Mark problem. Maybe I just need to get really drunk. Stupid idea, I know. But stupid behavior calls for stupid measures.

I gulp down a few more shots of scotch, whiskey, and vodka. My head starts to pound from everything I've taken in, but I know I can handle it. I've drunk stronger stuff.

I feel myself start to build up a thin layer of sweat, and my breathing becomes rigid. Maybe I should sit down. I collapse back down onto my bed, my vision blurred and blinking rapidly.

I can't stop thinking about Mark, no matter how much I drink. In fact, getting drunk is making it worse. Now I'm constantly imagining him here with me, cuddling me on the bed.

I look for my phone, wanting desperately to hear his voice. I need something, /anything/ from him. I finally find my phone, and I open it. I scramble through my contacts, landing on the one that read 'Markimoo'.

I click on the call icon, raising it to my ear as I listen to the droning of rings. Three rings go by, and I hear a click and some steady breathing.

"Mark..." I mumble in a heavy Irish accent. The more drunk I get, the more prominent my accent becomes.

"Jack? Why are you calling at...five in the morning?" Mark grumbles through the phone, and I mentally slap myself.

"Oh, gosh. Sorry, I forgot about the time difference." I cringe slightly, scrunching my noise. I hear Mark chuckle, and my body relaxes instantly.

"Don't worry about it," Mark tells me simply, and I sigh in relief. "So, was there something you wanted to talk about? Or do you enjoy waking me up this early."

"Um..." I start to say, but I have no idea what to say. My drunken state has almost completely passed. My last drink was two hours ago, and now my confidence is lacking. I didn't even know what I was doing calling him in the first place.

"I just..." I gulp, and the other line is completely silent. I know he's anticipating my response, and I wish I have something actually worth telling him. Something pops into my brain, and I ramble it out without thinking.

"Do you think we could talk?"

What. Am. I. Doing? I'm not ready to tell Mark my feelings! Or maybe this is the perfect opportunity. I mean, he's all the way in California, so if he rejects me, it could be easier. But what if he reciprocates the feelings? I would want to be there physically with him to enjoy the moment.

"Aren't we talking right now?" Mark asks in a deep voice, and chills travel throughout my body. I close my eyes momentarily, trying to imagine him here with me right now. Climbing over me...Ripping my shirt off...Dragging his tongue across—

"Jack?" Mark asks more impatiently, and I shake the thoughts out of my head. I know what I need to do, even if I didn't know what the outcome would be.

"Do ya think you could fly out ta Ireland?" I ask bluntly, not knowing how else to ask it. If he has any intention of liking me, then he would at least try to fly out.

"Yeah, that could be fun. When?" Mark responds immediately, shocking me. I thought he'd at least be slightly cautious.

"Uh, sometime in the next week or two?" I scratch the back of my head, looking at my calendar.

"Sure, I can book a flight," Mark says, and then chuckles softly. "The fangirls will go crazy."

'So will I', I want to say, but I hold it back.

"All right, have a good sleep, Mark." I tell him before we exchange goodnights, and I cuddle into my bed, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling in my tummy.

Now I just need to figure out what to say to him.