Opening Gifts (Markiplier)

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Date: December 28th

Day 4

I wasn't going to do another Mark one, but since the first one didn't exactly count as "Christmas spirited", this exists to make up for that.

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You awoke to the sound of quiet Christmas music coming from downstairs. Checking the clock, you saw that it was a bit after ten in the morning. The sun outside was a faded pale yellow as more snow fell outside, piling up in the streets and yards.

After a few more minutes of lying in bed, listening to the music, the smell of bacon wafted through the door. That enticed you enough to get up.

You brushed your teeth and combed your fingers through your hair to try and tame it, then walked downstairs.

In the kitchen, you saw Mark wearing an apron, his glasses propped atop his head as he skimmed through a recipe book of some sorts. There was bacon frying in one pan and pancakes in the other, along with a tall stack of omelettes sitting on a plate to cool. He looked concentrated, doing every step meticulously and carefully, so as to not mess anything up.

"What's the occasion?" you asked, making him jump in surprise. The book fell from his hands, landing on the ground with a loud thud.

"(Y/N)!" he yelped. "You surprised me." He looked at the breakfast he was making. "I, uh... I was going to wake you when I was done," he said, chuckling nervously. "Happy holidays, love."

"Aw, you're so sweet." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gave him a good morning kiss. His breath tasted like candy canes.

"I'm almost done breakfast. Go to the dining room, I'll be there in just a few minutes," he smiled.

"Can't I help with something?" you asked.

"Not a chance. Now, shoo. I'll bring out the food." He lightly pushed you away and, smiling, turned back to the stove, where he flipped the pancakes into the air.

After ten or so minutes, he walked into the room holding plates and drinks.

"You look like a professional waiter," you joked.

"Why, thank you, madam. I take pride in serving you," he bowed with a flourish, making you giggle. He sat down across from you, looking into your eyes. Sunlight drenched the room in a warm yellow glow, making his eyes look like they were radiating a burning gold, the same colour as the ring on his left hand. His marriage ring.

"Can you eat? I know you haven't been feeling well lately," Mark said nervously. "I should have thought of that, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I just-"

"Mark," you cut him off. "It's fine. I know what it is now, I'll tell you about it later. I was just throwing up."

"Yeah, consecutively every morning," he frowned. "I don't know what bug you caught, (Y/N), but it wasn't good."

"Mark, seriously. I'm fine," you insisted. He sighed, shrugging.

"If you say so, but if you feel any different, don't be afraid to tell me. Now eat up. Then we can open presents." He nodded to your food, and you nodded, biting into a blueberry pancake.

It was delicious, as always.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mark," you said after he had taken away the plates.

"Anything for you, my sweet," he smirked, pecking your cheek, back to his normal self now that you had reassured him about your morning sicknesses. "Now let's get to presents. I've got something that I think you'll love."

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