Her solace was the tears she shed in the middle of the night, when she knew there was no one to listen to her sobs or notice her wet pillow..
He found salvation in the blood that often oozed out of his hand.
When their paths meet, will the blood be...
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Mark is a terrible cook and so am I. But that doesn't stop us, or rather him, from baking a delicious chicken pizza. He does all the work while I sit near the kitchen counter, occasionally nodding at the facts Mark is blabbering about.
Within an hour and a half, his pizza is inside the oven and he has given me the duty of watching it for 10 minutes. I drag a chair and sit down while Mark goes outside to make a call. As I watch the lights blinking inside our oven, my mind is wandering off to things. Things I try so hard to forget.
And just like that, all I can think of is what Max liked, what Mark hated, his smile, his eyes, his jokes, his jacket. I feel like I am becoming him and the chicken pizza doesn't look much appetising, I want a cheese pizza.
I drift away from reality into my dreamland. I think of all the things that we have done together, all the cooking, all the hiking, all the pranking and I am smiling involuntarily.
The chuckle that is playing over my lips makes me all nostalgic and I like the feeling.
"Aiden!" Marcus's exclamation snaps me out from my reverie and I peek a glance at the pizza in the oven, which is charred and even burnt. Its clearly inedible.
I look at Marcus who is staring at me in pity.
"I am sorry." I whisper. "I just ruin everything."
I rush out of the room, because I don't want him to see me cry.
