Third person's POV
We don't talk anymore
We don't talk anymore
We don't talk anymore
Like we used to doMark is staring at his phone again, sometimes his index finger will hold it from above and spin it slowly, flap it down, pick it up again and do that same action repeatedly. He occasionally stares out of the window high above the group and back to the phone again. He is in some hotel he can't remember the name. He checked in for two days there but the bed is not touched, it is as neat as new and no traces of sleeping could be found. Because Mark didn't sleep there at all.
His eye bags is noticeable, going on for many days, maybe it is permanent like that but Mark didn't really care. For the past day that he checked in, he sat down on the chair with a mini table near the bed. Maybe it's for eating purpose, breakfast or such but he doesn't really care. He didn't even put off his black jacket when he arrived at the room. He just sat there staring to something for how many hours, sometimes he look at the mini stand there, free snack from the hotel but he didn't have the appetite to get up and eat it. Still, he is not that strong to withstand all the lack of sleep and hunger.
He dozed off for about five times, because he kept waking up half an hour or two after he fall asleep. The cozy bed is ignored. That routine goes on almost every weekend for six months. Six months eleven days six hours and fifty two minutes to be exact. Of course he can't be like that because whatever happens, life still goes on and so his crappy job at a small office, like now, Mark stands up and stripped because he need to take a bath and head into his work. He fall asleep in his bath in which he claimed to be actually relaxing, more than his sleep on the wooden chair.
He snatched out some snack in display afterwards and head out of the hotel. He didn't bother checking the complicated hotel name again as he is sleeping in every hotel available that he sees first after his work. It's not always the same hotel especially when he recall the moments of happiness and love with that certain someone around the area of his work. Mark already surprised and applauded himself for not resigningbfrom his job where certain fetching up happens, may it snow or rain.
We don't laugh anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don't talk anymore
Like we used to do.He boarded the train to his work, this week is one of the bad ones where he recalled one of their happiest moments at the coffee shop they frequently visit, so he jumped for about two cities and stop going further because the next city is where their forgotten home is. An apartment facing the sun in the morning, full of giggles and kisses. His thought halted because his phone rang, he checked it out and saw a familiar name. It's Taeil, his super caring best friend that asked him if he is okay and eaten, Mark knows that that person's worry is real so he replied and assure him even if he don't want to.
He sighed; fine he'll eat a breakfast before he goes to work. He pick some restaurant he's never been in, he goes into the corner, he never looked around, he just settled in and look at the menu. After some fiddling with it, a server goes to him and he just ordered a fried rice and egg. It's a grave choice even though it's so simple, because that's what they're almost always cooking in the morning, sometimes in dinner too. They both fancied fried rice, Taeyong actually mastered how to cook it right for both of their tastes.
They both can't cook that good but they are always up for trying to do something fun as long as they're together. In most cases, Mark avoided anything that could make him remember Taeyong and the happy moments they shared but this is one of the moments he allowed himself indulging to. He knew he will cry later, but regardlessof how much he don't want to remember their precious moments, he knew he craved for it equally, he misses it so much.

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We don't talk anymore || Markyong
Fanfiction"ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴀᴇʏᴏɴɢ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ, ᴍᴀʀᴋ?." ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴏʀᴇ? ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ғɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ