Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~

Engaging Reunion

-- Jack --

I get out of the shower and dry myself off. Dan and Phil's clothes are waiting for me, perfectly folded on the sink. I guess when Phil dropped off the boxers, his tidy side got the best of him.

I dress myself quickly and quietly - well, almost quietly considering I ended up bumping my hip on the edge of the sink and cursing like a maniac. Pain shot through my side and I hissed. Slow and steady breaths sent the signals that I was okay and I continued.

I still silently wondered what the hell was going on. Just as I pulled my shirt over my head, I heard voices coming from the living room. Dan and Phil. I noticed that. I could have swore I heard another voice, but it was probably my imagination. Still inheriting some insanity from deprivation of my loved one, it wasn't uncommon for my imagination to go a little wild with me sometimes. I had gotten used to it.

I combed back my faded hair from my face. Little strands of dull colours came through the dye, making my roots look grey and unkempt. My entire existence was currently unkempt, but I'd have to deal with it all piece by piece (starting with my signature green locks). I needed to dye it again sometime this week. I just don't know when I'm going to do it. I don't know when I'll have the motivation. If I can be honest, I hardly have any motivation anymore. Ever since Mark left me, I don't go anywhere or do anything - from what I hear, he's far from the same. I just miss him so much it physically hurts me.

I look up in the medicine cabinet, looking around for the toothbrush that I'd left here a million fucking years ago - I'd never gotten it back and was forced to buy a new one. However, when I went to look for it, I realised that it was no longer in the cabinets. I was losing everything these days! I was losing track of everything. Time, my mentality, what I'm doing, my focus, and apparently my fuckin toothbrush. Great.

I sigh as I swing the bathroom door open and step into the hall. I quietly go into the living room, focus fading in and out.

"Where's my damn toothbru-"

I stopped. My breathing stopped. My heart stopped. The world quit turning.

Mark was sitting on the couch and seemingly waiting for me.

The house was deadly quiet as a silence swept over our entire existence. No sound was made, but tension was felt.

Dan and Phil looked back and forth from each other, sending each other the same look - "was this really a good idea?" - while Mark and I held strong eye contact, waiting to see who would back down first.

He eventually backed down, looking at his hands that were clasped in his lap. I kept my eyes on him, afraid that if I looked away and then back, he would be gone just like that. He looked up at me and smiled. It felt real. I took a step forward. He extended an arm to me and made a grabbing motion with his hands. Still no words were exchanged but I cautiously took another step forward.

"M-Mark?" I whispered, reaching for his warm hands.

"Jack." He returned, grabbing my hand tightly and pulling me closer to him. I wanted to hesitate. I wanted to back up - however, the shock in my veins kept me rooted to my spot as he kissed my knuckles. His free hand reached out to brush the wet hairs away from my face.

"W-what are you d-doing here?" I asked calmly.

"I had to see you and tell you I'm sorry. I wanted to prove it." He said. I felt myself grow defensive.

"Now, it's been a week since I've seen you. You think a hug, kiss, and 'I love you' will fix this, then your a damn fool!" I hissed at him. He remained calm.