Cooked // NCT Groupchat

-69-

Mark grabbed one of the white, fluffy, towels that sat on a metal rack that was attached to the wall. He wrapped it around himself and stepped out of the shower. A shiver ran up his spine from the frigid touch of the cool night.

He quickly dried himself off and threw on his sweat pants and hoodie before grabbing a second towel to gently dry his hair. He placed both towels in the hamper underneath the metal rack before making his way towards the main room.

However, he stopped when he noticed his reflection in the bathroom mirror from his peripheral vision. He turned his head and walked closer to it in order to get a better look.

It was him.

Sure, that was no revelation. That's how mirrors worked after all, however, it was the first time in a long time that he had seen the real him. No expensive clothing, no stage makeup, no painted facade that he kept up because the company said so, it was just him, Mark.

The boy lifted her arm and ran a hesitant hand through his damp hair. In the mirror he could see the darker roots that started to decorate his light brown hair. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen his real hair color. It was as if it was his first time seeing the specific shade of dark brown. The stylists would be horrified to see his hair in such a state, however, it oddly made him grin.

His hand moved down his face as he leaned into the mirror. He could he dark spots that had stuck around since his time as a teenager. There were also small wrinkles that were seemingly etched into his face. Not to mention the bags that had seemed to form underneath his eyes.

His eyes, tired eyes, that had seemed to dull from too many restless nights. They didn't sparkle the way the used to, yet, the boy was happy to see that their chocolate brown color hadn't been eclipsed by a glittering grey or a boisterous blue hue.

People say that eyes are the window into ones soul, however, his soul was fathomless- forgotten -and his only way back to it seemed to stare into the bathroom mirror.

For most of Mark's life, he felt as though he was floating through life. Everything felt untethered and unsure. He didn't know what was real and what was fake, who was arriving and who was leaving, what he felt and what he was told to feel. This feeling had rested on him for as long as he could remember, and it had no sign of stopping. Mark looked into the mirror one last time. He was hoping to find a clue, a glimmer in the dark, however, there was nothing. He pushed his arms off the bathroom counter and walked through the door to the main room.

Then there was Rosa. She laid on the large king sized bed and she gazed up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought the same way he was only moments before. She did nothing to gain his attention yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. If he were to say she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, truthfully, that would have been a lie. However, she was the only girl he had felt so connected to. It was like they had thrown each other a life line and were now one another's shelter from the rolling storms of their lives.

Reflexively, he took a step towards her and that's when she first noticed his presence. She turned towards him "oh, hey" she replied as she sat up from her position "I was wondering how long you were going to take in there. I'm just glad I got to go first."

He chuckled at her comment "Yeah the guy's say I always take too long in the shower so that's why I let you go first" he spoke as he walked over to the bed before taking a seat next to her. She laughed at the anecdote for a little before her gaze seemed to stare off into the distance once more. Ever since they started their little road trip, Rosa had started to loose herself in her thoughts. At first the boy brushed it off, however, it had started to happen more often.

He looked down at her hand as it rested at her side. The boy slowly moved his arm and softly spoke "Hey...". Rosa hummed in response, however, only truly snapped out of it when she felt his warm hand engulf her's. As she looked down at their intertwined hands he asked "What are you thinking about?" it was a gentle tone that always calmed her down, however, in that moment it seemed to take the opposite affect.

With her eyes down cast, she felt her heart churn as a sinking feeling started to set in. She wanted to tell him, it seemed to be the only thing running through her mind at the moment, yet, those words, those eight letters never came. Instead, she looked up.

Her sullen and sorrowful eyes met his. Mark's throat seemed to go dry, her gaze was so fiery and intense, however, weak and distant. "Do you believe in happy endings?" She asked as though her world could break at his answer.

A small grin played on his lips "Of course I do." he responded. Mark moved his free hand to her cheek as he slowly moved closer to her "Do you?". The girl leaned into his touch, how she had lived without it before was a mystery to Rosa. She closed her eyes, not being able to look at him as she said her truths in fear of her heart shattering in an instance.

"I want to... I really want to."

He knew something was wrong. Mark could tell by the way she spoke and the slight change in her actions. However, he didn't question it. He feared it would push her too far, so far she would fall off the edge like the past night in the dorm.

Just because she is broken doesn't mean that she isn't whole.

Those were the words he confidently told his friends. He didn't know it at the moment, but those words still rang true. She didn't need him to make her whole. They both knew that, however, they both enjoyed the company too.

"It's late." He replied checking his phone "let's go to sleep". She nodded, he turned off the lights and they both got under the covers. The room was dark and not a sound could be heard. However, they didn't need words to express it. Mark and Rosa simply knew.

A feeling of warmth enveloped them as they held each other for the night.