GOT7 oneshot collection

check (me) out (markson)

LINK:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11163480/chapters/24916266

Summary:

Being the socially awkward photography student/part-time cashier he was, Mark never paid much attention to the idea of finding his soulmate, content with the company of himself and a select few friends.

Enter Jackson Wang.

When Mark took on the job at the convenience store 2 blocks away from his family home, it was partially for the purpose of a bit of extra cash (being a broke photography student was a tough life), but also to get some time out of the family home. While his siblings have long since moved out, he, being the shy recluse he was, saw no need to fork out extra money to find an apartment he could afford in LA.

He knew his parents worried for his anti-social tendencies sometimes, wishing he'd meet more people for a higher chance of meeting his soulmate, but he had his few close friends and he was happy – crowded parties and friendship groups as big as a class of students had just never appealed to him. He would much rather have been out taking pictures of the parks and wildlife that was still present within the concrete jungle.

Occasionally he would photograph people, if someone or something caught his eye; an emotion bright enough, a loud that echoed through a crowded space. When he found his soulmate, great, but he wasn't going running around rushing to find them – some people never found theirs and to be honest, he wasn't sure he was ready for that kind of intimate commitment that he didn't even choose.

Some of his close friends had already found their soulmates and while they were perfect for each other, it did nothing to help the worry of feeling smothered if his match was more into the idea of soulmates than he was.

They say a person's soulmate is their other half, everything the individual is not themselves, but in the most complementary way. This did not bode well for Mark's soulmate being a soft-spoken recluse like himself; no doubt they'd end up being outgoing and bubbly, a go-getter with a good job and a secure future – everything Mark himself was not.

But at the tender age of 22, in his final year of college, he had far more important things to worry about than someone he may never meet – like what job would he get? Would he move out anytime soon? What next?

It was 5pm on a busy Saturday; his shift had just ended and he pulled his jacket over his uniform shirt, shielding him from the early autumn air. Yoongi had just taken over his shift, sliding in to the seat behind the till looking about as enthusiastic as Yoongi could manage as the human representation of a statue.

Mark was just about to bid his goodbyes to his colleague, when a smell filled his nostrils. It was deep and rich, like the darkest red cherry had been dipped in melted chocolate and it made Mark's mouth water and pulse quicken.

Well shit.

The shop was busy and it was unclear which direction the smell had assaulted his senses from; he felt like he was drowning. Swallowing harshly, he quickly glanced around the room until his eyes locked with an equally astounded looking blonde male. He looked about Mark's age; his hair, clearly dyed, was slightly slicked back at the top and shorter at the sides. He wore the tightest black ripped jeans

Mark thought he'd ever seen, thick cargo boots covering his feet. An expensive but worn looking leather jacket sat atop a lose black wife beater; everything about him screamed bad boy, hell, he probably road a motorbike and smoked ten a day just for the hell of it.

Dark eyes stared him down, the whites wider than normal as his mouth opened and closed a few times, hand slowly rising almost as if to reach out to Mark, who was now backing towards the exit.