Living Together?! | Mark Lee

Chapter 51

Why is this so difficult for you? It shouldn't be this hard for you, but it's the thought of the reaction you might get from him. You love Mark, you do, but this rush of uneasiness has won you over. But you know you can't keep it a secret forever, delaying it would only make it worst. 

You mentally groan, splashing your face with cold water. It was pretty late, your mom and Miss Lee who still isn't home which you don't expect them to be anytime soon. You probably won't see them until morning. After your shower with Mark, you figured they would drink till they pass out. 

You return to your boyfriend's room, closing the door behind you before plopping yourself beside him on the bed. He welcomes you back by lifting his blanket inviting you to snuggle up next to him which you joyfully accept.

"Better?" He asks, referring to how that he might have hurt you from the extra round in the shower. Your thighs and core ache like hell, you have hickeys and handprints all over your body, your throat is dry from all the noises you've made and your scalp hurts from your hair being pulled.

Yeah, you're fine.

"I'm tired..." You groan, your body feeling drained. Mark doesn't understand your pain and fatigue, but he does feel responsible for it. One thing you don't understand about him is his high sex drive. He doesn't know how to express how sorry he is, so he tries to make up by massaging your leg and kissing your forehead. It doesn't help, but it's the thought that counts.

With his hand rubbing your thigh, in the other he has his phone, scrolling through social media. You stare blankly at his phone, watching as he scrolls past pictures, wondering how you're going to break the news to him. You've must have been staring too hard because of how he rests his phone flat against his chest. It rendered no reaction out of you, so you weren't paying attention.

He sits up, causing you to move with him considering you were snuggled upon him. You snap out of it and glance at your boyfriend before looking away.

Mark sighs, "Is something wrong?"

You breathe out a chuckle, sitting up as well as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "No, why?"

"You've been acting weird since you've come home earlier." He looks you up and down, searching for some sort of reaction. "Is something... bothering you?"

You blink vaguely, lips pursing and eyes staring down at his sheets. A huff leaves you and you faces towards him. His gaze immediately shoots to the way you uneasily fiddle with the blanket on your lap. Your features seem to soften and you don't realize, but you frown a bit.

Mark bites the corner of his lip before reaching out for your hands, holding them in his while he tries to meet your eyes. "You can talk to me. You know that."

"I know." You smile, looking up at him.

"Then talk."

Your heartbeat rapidly increases. You can feel your veins pulsing out of your skin and your toes fidgeting. The way Mark looks at you patiently doesn't help. He's not rushing you, but his eyes are. This shouldn't be such a big deal, but for you it is. You've never thought about the day you would leave this place, it never crossed your mind. It's funny how when you first moved in you couldn't wait to go back home, but now you just want to stay here. Not all memories here are great, but they're something.

You gaze around the room, gathering the words to say and how you should say it. Your eyes glance from his closet to his tv, to the mirror, to the guitar sitting in corner of his room. "Guitar..?" You wonder has that always been there?

"Huh?" Mark didn't hear you quite well, instead follows your gaze to where you were looking.

"Guitar. You play?"

"I thought you knew and yeah, I'm pretty decent."

"Well, I didn't and I'll take your word for it. You shrug. "Play it for me?"

He cocks his head to the side, adjusting his T-shirt on his shoulders. The look on his face doesn't seem so promising, showing that he probably won't agree to your offer. He cracks his fingers and throws his head back against the headboard.

"Is that a no?" You add on. "Tired?"

"You know what they say about guitar players?" He inquires, side-eyeing you. Your brows arch, interest written on your features. "We're good with our fingers."

Your face cringes in disgust. Mark chuckles and you roll your eyes pushing him away from you. "You're so weird."

He shrugs off your comment and rubs the back of your head. "Okay, but I know you didn't wanna talk about my guitar."

You nod. It was time. Your stalling didn't phase him and he saw right through you. You sigh, tugging at the blanket in front of you for more coverage. His hand massaging has come to halt on your thigh, his fingernails just dragging across the surface of your skin.

Mark doesn't look at you too hard not wanting to seem like he was pushing you to tell him. He doesn't even know what you're gonna say, so he's feeling a little on edge himself. You shift uncomfortably on his bed to face him more.

"Okay..." You start, slightly clearing your throat. "Remember earlier I told being with my mom was nice?"

"Why? You didn't have a good time?"

You inhale deeply. "I mean– I did, but... Something happened."

Mark looked at you, obviously confused cause you weren't going into detail or being specific enough, but he did have a thought in mind. "Oh, I know what this is about."

Your heart stops. "You do?"

He just nods and places his hands on your shoulders. His hands are big and cover your whole shoulder, so you feel a little intimidated. There's no reason to be, but you are. He shakes you lightly, an apologetic expression.

"Did you tell her about your– um.."

"Huh?" You're kinda thrown off, cocking your head to the side.

"You know... your father."

You roll your eyes and push him back, causing him to lean back on his elbows. He seemed puzzled and slowly sits back up. Your arms cross over your chest, you are frustrated.

"If I told her that, she would kill not only him but me." Mark agrees, his hair fluffing when shaking it to remove it from his view. You breathe leisurely to calm your battering heartbeats. The way he looks at you, basically wanting you to continue. "Okay, listen, so my mom and I had talked and–"

You're even more frustrated when his phone rings. Both of you stare blankly at it. "It's Jeno." He softly utters, and you groan throwing your head back.

"Are you kidding me, Mark?"

He would argue how he can't control who calls him, but he doesn't cause he could tell that you were seriously upset.

"Look," He repeats a few times, throwing his hands up away from his phone. "We'll just let it ring."

The two of you stare at it, the awkward silence that fills the room as the phone repeatedly rings obnoxiously. You glance up at your boyfriend then back down at the device. The ringing comes to an end, the notification that he missed the call pops on the screen.

"See?" He says, trying to reassure you. "You may continue."

"You sure?"

"Positive... well maybe."

It hasn't even been ten seconds and it's ringing again. "He obviously needs to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, princess."

"Just answer." You sigh

Mark felt remorseful, he snatched up his phone before getting out of bed and leaving the room to answer the call outside. He was annoyed himself, he was to make sure to scold poor Jeno who wasn't even at fault.

At this pace, you might not even get a chance to tell him.