His 'Follower' | MarkHyuck

Confusion Pt.1

The next day’s sun rose slowly as it was a silent winter morning where people mostly decided to tuck themselves in further in their blankets as the calmness and the coldness which surrounded them made them feel lethargic. 

Haechan was one of them.

Mark, on the other hand, had stayed up the whole night just in case Haechan woke up in the middle of the night and needed something, it resulting in him being sleep deprived as he ended up keeping himself awake with a book after tucking the younger in bed – not like it was the first time but it still was tiring enough to give him bags under his eyes.

A groan was heard around the room as Haechan stirred in his sleep after Mark nudged him a few times to wake him up.

“Don’t you want to attend classes?” Mark asked, already tying his tie up and checking his reflection in the mirror after moving away when he saw Haechan peek through a little opening he made with the duvet.

Haechan snuggled closer to the duvet, missing already the earlier warmth from the elder’s body, and shook his head no. He knew Jeno would be in there and seeing him was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

As he recalled last night’s event, the want to curl under the softness of the duvet and never come out because of the embarrassment of being used like that and the hurt from being played around with grew to the point he actually covered his whole body under the thick piece of white, soft-filled-up, cloth.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he thought about the great times he had with Jeno and remembered how for him, all of this, was just a job.

A job from Mark Lee.

The duvet on top of him was gently removed and he was met with the elder’s concerned face after he adjusted to the bright light, which again attacked his sleepy eyes.

Haechan saw how Mark kneeled down in front of him and laid one hand on the bed while the other went to slowly brush away the younger’s fringe back so that he could look at him in the eyes.

“Do you want to stay back?” Mark asked, still playing with the other’s soft brown locks.

Haechan nodded at the question as he relaxed into the touch, sleepiness once again taking over his senses.

The touch felt warm and safe. And as much as Haechan feared for that action only being done because Mark might feel like he was responsible for what happened – since he actually partially was because if he never asked then this might not have happened – and not because he genuinely wanted to, the brunet wanted to forget it, push it aside for a while to the least, and just enjoy the gesture as it might just last for a short while.

The hand moved from his hair to his cheek and Mark’s thumb started to wipe off the slight appearance of a tear at the corner of one of his eyes as he observed him leaning more into his touch.

Truth to be told, Mark felt like actual shit.

He felt responsible. True. But really, the reason why he was caring for Haechan so much wasn’t just because he felt guilty but because he genuinely cared and couldn’t bear the thought that he was so broken because of something he initiated when now, protecting him and keeping him close was the only thing he wanted to do. 

It wasn’t just guilt, he was sure of that.

If it was, he would have ignored it and paid it off with money, cut all connections and never looked back. That’s how he dealt with his previous problems; a messed-up method he learnt from his uncle but knew how it always worked. (But he constantly wondered, did that man ever feel guilty in the first place or was that just a say? Probably the latter.)