Challenge 09: Desolate
Genre: Angst
Character: Mark
Plot: You sit alone, thinking about your relationship with Mark, wondering what went wrong.
a/n - Guys I’m crying this one hit way too close to home ;-;
[Masterlist]
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You sat there at the empty kitchen table, wondering what had happened between then and now.
When you first met Mark, you were just 18 years old, fresh out of high school. He was on the brink of turning 21. You were both freshly embarking on different turning points in your life—for you, it was college and for him, it was life beyond school—full-fledged adulthood.
And while those around you disapproved of your jump into a relationship as soon as you started college, you knew Mark was good for you. He kept you grounded, kept your anxieties at bay, held your hand as you made small steps into adulthood. And you were the same for Mark—a reminder to keep a child’s heart while enduring the monotony that was the assistant accounting job he had taken up straight out of college.
And while you were both nowhere near where you wanted to be in life, you were both happy. He would surprise you with homemade dinners at your dorm. They were mostly just grilled cheese sandwiches, but delicious nonetheless because they were made by him. You guys would have sleepovers at his apartment, watching the same old movies, and falling asleep before the ending every single time. And you would leave love notes all around his house so that when he was brushing his teeth, digging through his cabinets for a jar of honey, or just lying around in bed, he would be reminded that you loved him, he was the best, the most handsome, the only one for you.
And later, he would repeat the same things into your ear as he sucked on the sensitive spot of your ear lobe, trailing kisses from your soft, whimpering lips, down to your pulsing neck, and then lower. It was under his gentle touch that you realized womanhood. You gave him your all and he held it carefully like the responsible assistant accountant that he was.
Year 18 passed in a pink blur.
Year 19 was just the same. Perhaps the fluttering butterflies in your stomach had settled, but his name rested on your tongue and every time you said it, you could taste the sweetness on your tongue. And when Mark spoke your name, you felt a calm in your chest. In his voice, that was where your name belonged. You guys were now each other’s comfort. Mark became your home.
And so it just made sense to leave your dorm and move into his apartment. You were there almost every day anyways.
Mark was ecstatic to have you there…have you home. Finally, the two of you could fall asleep in each other’s arms without having to stir awake in the middle of the night because you had to go back to your dorm. In fact, Mark was so excited to be sharing a home with you, he didn’t let you sleep at night for a few days straight.
You didn’t mind though. You craved him as much as he craved you. Although he was the only one you had been with, you knew you could be with no one else but him. Mark stopped whispering sweet nothings in your ear each night, but from the warmth of his arms, holding you close, you knew he felt the same.
And then year 20 came.
You started an internship at a radio station near his work place. Every day during lunch, you both would meet halfway at the nearby park to eat lunch together. And when winter approached, the two of you would meet at the café across the park instead.
You would tell him of all the new people you were meeting—the funny new friend you made, the scary Unnis that made you go for coffee runs, the time an idol group came into the station and you got a signed CD from them. And Mark would listen with a smile, and sometimes a scowl (depending on the gender of said idol group).
And every single time, you would return the question, asking about his day, his boss, his co-workers. And every single time, Mark would shrug his shoulders.
“The usual boring stuff, nothing special.”
At first, you paid no attention to this, Mark had always been on the quiet side when it came to his job. Plus, you were having the internship of your life. You were too excited about your own adventures to hear the shift in Mark’s tone every time he shrugged his shoulders and avoided your inquiries.
But then when you did notice the weight of his sighs and the tired bend of his shoulders like he was carrying the world, you were too caught up in your own work to stop and ask him.
You were six months into the internship and if you did well, you would be guaranteed a position after graduating. But you had taken the internship as a mere last option because all the marketing internships were unavailable. You were so close to finishing college and debating whether a career in marketing was what you really wanted. The radio station was so fun. You were even dabbling in the idea of jumping to television.
You’d stay up at 2AM, trying to finish a marketing research paper with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. And at 3AM you would be muffling your sobs in Mark’s hoodie you had on, trying to keep quiet so you wouldn’t wake Mark up in the next room. But at 4AM the crying wouldn’t stop and you would turn your paper in three days late.
And every morning that this happened, Mark would look at your swollen eyes and leave for work as if nothing happened.
Year 21, you dropped out of college even though you only had one semester left. You didn’t care though, you had a secure position at the radio station and everyone there loved you. It was your second home now.
And then Mark quit his job without warning.
The news only came to you a month after. And you would have been understanding if he had just told you honestly from the beginning. But when he finally did, you were furious. Yes, there was the lies but a month had passed and the rent was due. If he had just told you from the beginning, you could have worked overtime more often, you could have eaten out less, you could have done anything and everything would have been alright, except he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut as always, and so you shamelessly went to work the next day and begged your boss for an advance.
After the incident, Mark stopped hanging around the apartment. You didn’t know where he was because he always answered your questions with silence. You eventually stopped asking, but every time he came back home you could smell the scent of cigarettes on him.
And so now here you were, sitting at your kitchen table with a cold mug of tea in your hands as hot tears ran down your cheeks.
Today was supposed to be the start of a fun road trip with Mark. You guys had planned it a year in advance and you had woken up early hoping there might still be a chance for it. But when Mark woke up two hours after you, he didn’t even say a thing before washing up and leaving the house again.
Before you knew it, evening had approached. You used to love sunsets. It was your favorite time of the day. But today you hated the glow of orange light slipping across the room as the front door opened, revealing a pink-faced, unbalanced Mark.
You trembled, feeling hot tears resurface to your eyes, blurring your vision of Mark as he stumbled across the room, not even noticing you as he crawled into bed.
You wipe at your tears as you approach the inebriated Mark.
Your chest felt heavy as you looked at Mark, mumbling to himself with his eyes closed.
“Hey,” you whisper softly, pulling at his jacket. “Let’s get you changed first before you sleep.”
Mark groans as you huff against him, pulling off layers of clothes until he’s down to his boxers. You look at his naked body as he sleeps soundly. When was the last time you two had made love? Or even shared a loving kiss?
Tears threaten to fall again as you watch Mark turn away from you with a groan, not letting you put on another item of clothing.
You give up with a sigh and grab the blanket, pulling it over his body.
Shedding your own layers of clothes, you enter the bed with Mark. The tears slip against your will as you stare at his back facing you. You wrap your arms around him, trying to feel skin against skin. But he is colder than usual and you wonder if he had been drinking outside in the cold.
You pull him closer, kissing his back every now and then the way he always loved it.
His back used to be your shelter, the spine that kept you upright when your own couldn’t. When did his back become so small? Why weren’t you there for him like he always was for you?
Soon you’re sobbing, holding onto the sleeping Mark and never wanting to let him go again.
When Mark wakes up it is 3AM and he is questioning how he managed to strip out of his clothes and into bed after drinking so much. But then he feels your arm around him and he knows he has disappointed you again. With a sigh, he tries to get up, not even glancing at you because he knows your eyes will be swollen again.
But as he rises, you grip him tighter.
“Please don’t leave,” you mutter against his back, pushing yourself closer to his body. He hears you sniffling against his back and he knows you’re crying again. He sighs, it seems like the only thing he can do for you is make you cry.
“Please don’t leave,” you repeat, this time, more firmly.
Mark presses his hand over yours before lifting you hand off of him. Your heart sinks with disappointment but instead of leaving the bed silently, Mark turns around to face you.
“I’m not going to leave,” he whispers back, staring into your eyes.
You try to cover your swollen eyes, feeling the tears coming again. Mark takes your hand in his, moving it away from your eyes. He quietly leans in, kissing your swollen lids softly.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble with an unsteady voice.
Mark trembles at the sounds of your voice. He is reminded of the 18-year-old girl he had made cry with a surprise visit of grilled cheese on the stove—who had cried because she was so tired and college was harder than she thought and grilled cheese was her favorite kind of sandwich. Except this time there is no smile on your face. You just look sad and tired.
“Please don’t cry, Y/N,” he whispers, caressing your cheek softly.
And though you try to hold back, it’s the sound of his voice that brings hot tears falling from your eyes again. You missed the sound of his voice when he was saying your name.
“I’m sorry,” you utter again, crying harder. “I should have been there for you. You’re having a hard time and I’m doing nothing for you.”
Mark bites his lip, trying to hold back his own tears. He wants to tell you that he’s the one that’s sorry. He wants to tell you that he was having such a hard time but watching you grow and smile every day was the only thing that was keeping him going. He wants to tell you that you have grown into a beautiful, accomplished woman and that you could only get better from here. He wanted to tell you that you deserved a better man than him.
But words were never his forte.
So he watched you cry, too afraid to even pull you closer to him.
You wipe at your tears, hiccupping as you try your best to hold in your sob. You look at Mark, trying to read his eyes.
“I still love you,” you say, holding his hand tightly. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
You gulp with anxiety, unable to read Mark’s eyes. “Do you…still love me?”
At the nervous tone in your voice, tears begin falling down Mark’s face.
“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, trembling, afraid that his tears mean something you don’t want to hear.
And then you feel his lips on yours, kissing you feverishly, his hands on your back and pulling you even closer into his chest. You barely have time to catch your breath before he is kissing you again, his hands moving down the curve of your body.
You moan softly into his kiss, missing the feeling of his hands on you.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” Mark whispers into your ear. “I never stopped loving you either. I’m sorry I’ve made you so sad.”
You shake your head, pulling him into another kiss.
“It takes two to be in a relationship. I wasn’t trying enough for you either,” you whisper as your fingers grasp at his hair and his lips explore your neck. You moan again as he sucks on your neck, leaving a mark against your hungry skin.
He groans at the sound of your moaning, staring deeply into your eyes. You smile, finding a look of love in his brown orbs.
“I’ll never leave you, Hun, you’re the only one for me.”
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