"If Mark comes, tell him I'm not here." You wipe your palms on your apron and pause. "Wait, no, scratch that. He's coming for sure. Tell him I'm not here when he does."
Seoyeon sides you a suspicious glance. "Why would I tell him that?"
Sighing, you lean back on the counter and avoid her gaze. "Well..."
"Oh my god," she interrupts, mouth falling open. "You two had a fight, didn't you?"
"What? No," you frown. "I mean — yes? I guess we did? I don't know, I'm just—"
"It's okay, I get it," Seoyeon sends you a lukewarm, apologetic look. "Just tell me what happened."
You decide that waking up late yesterday morning is a good place to start, hence the bad hair that she just so happened to feel the need to point out ("Oh, sorry about that," she laughs nervously).
You tell her all about the date you've been looking forward to; and though you may have exaggerated the whole story and added an extra hour on the time you waited at the restaurant after dealing with a handful of impudent customers, she seems to get your overall point that your day was, all in all, horrible.
By the time you've finished your mini-rant, Seoyeon has her eyebrows raised—and is that a smile peaking through her lips? "Wow," she breathes. "Congratulations."
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?"
"Congratulations," she repeats, "you and Mark are having your first fight. You're finally a couple!" She waltzes over to you and pats your shoulder.
You groan your displeasure. "I don't even know anymore. I'm not jealous or anything. He can hang out with whoever he wants. I guess I'm just more mad at myself for being mad at him?"
"But he stood you up," she points out bluntly.
"Yeah," you sigh, dejected. "He stood me up."
"And hung out with his," she raises her fingers and air quotes, "best friend."
"Stop that. They're just friends." Your eyes flicker towards the entrance. "Anyways, he's probably going to be here really soon. Tell him I'm not here, please? I'm not ready to confront him."
"Yeah, because avoiding the situation entirely makes perfect sense," she murmurs. You throw her a pointed look and she and rolls her eyes, "Fine, fine. Now go hide in the back until I tell you it's safe."
The next day, you're greeted by a suspicious-looking Seoyeon.
"Hey," you greet, eyeing her warily. "What's up with you?"
"Um, nothing," she says. "Why would there be something up with me, silly?"
You raise an eyebrow. "You tell me. You're the one looking like you just did something you shouldn't have."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she turns her back to you. "Must be the weather. You know how I get when it rains."
"No, I don't," you say in a deadpan. You place your umbrella in the lower cabinet and tie your apron around your waist. But something (more like someone) in the corner of your eye makes you stop dead in your tracks. You do a double take as your eyes widen in alert. You spin on your heels to Seoyeon, "What the hell?"
She looks just as surprised as you do, except instead of anger it's guilt that's painted over her face. "I'm sorry!" she squeaks out. "He was relentless! He refused to leave no matter how many times I told him to respect your decision but... Oh screw it, this is your guys' problem and not mine." She huffs and crosses her arms, turning towards Mark. "You!" she points an accusatory finger his way, "you better apologize soon because all this couple drama is starting to make my head hurt!"
Mark stays rooted in place, eyes as wide as saucers. "______, I came to say I'm really sorry—"
"Stop," you sigh, refusing to meet his gaze. "In case you've forgotten, this is where I work. Don't make me do this while I'm working. Just, go home or something, okay?"
"He walked here, ______," Seoyeon mumbles, "before it started raining really hard."
"Then he can just ask Jessica to pick him up." You turn your back before either of them can reply and purse your lips. Faint murmurs are exchanged but you try your hardest to pay it no mind; they're obviously talking about you and you let your gaze drop to the ground.
Eventually, you hear the sound of Mark's footsteps slowly begin to fade and Seoyeon places a hand your shoulder.
"He still refuses to leave. I told him when your shift ends and he's completely set on waiting for you."
You peak your head back and see Mark perched at the table (your table) and your body can't seem to surmount the guilt seeping within you. Sure, he stood you up and hung out with his best friend instead, but you're blatantly avoiding the situation and over-complicating things even further.
If anything, you're more mad at yourself than him.
Surprisingly, Seoyeon wasn't lying when she told you Mark was set on waiting for you. He's been sitting at the same spot for hours, and the only time he actually got up to leave his seat was when he had to use the bathroom. But other than that he's been waiting for you like an abandoned puppy, gaze completely fixated on you. Thankfully, you've successfully avoided eye contact with him the whole day.
When your shift ends, you retrieve your umbrella from behind the counter and untie your apron. Your heart's pounding in your chest when realization dawns on you that he's undoubtedly going to follow you and to be frank, you're not sure if you're ready for that confrontation.
You bid goodbye to your co-workers and exit through the backdoor, opening your umbrella when you see that it's still raining. You're not even twenty steps out when you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps following after you.
Surely enough, Mark calls out to you.
You bite your lower lip and quicken your pace. He calls out to you again and this time, he catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder.
"______, we need to talk."
You shrug him off of you, "There's nothing to talk about."
Mark hesitates, watching your figure. "______..."
"I'm serious. Leave me alone." You avoid meeting his eyes and continue your walk.
He doesn't leave you alone, but he doesn't call out to you, either. You can feel his gaze on the back of your head and you can hear his footsteps in the rain following after yours. You sigh and mentally curse yourself; the boy didn't even bring an umbrella.
It doesn't help that it's raining hard, either. At this rate he's bound to get sick if he continues after you.
You come to a halt and turn around, eyes on the ground. "Go home, Mark," you say. "You're going to get sick."
You purse your lips and lift your eyes. When your gaze meets his, your heart sinks to your stomach when you see that, despite the determination etched over his face, his hair's wet and his clothes are damp. You sigh defeatedly. "Then at least get under my umbrella."
Mark stills and when your words sink in, ambles over to you and grabs the umbrella from you, holding it above you the two of you. You're still avoiding his gaze and you clear your throat awkwardly when your arms brush.
The walk to your house is silent. You can tell that Mark's holding back his words by the uncomfortable silence that hangs around you two.
But before you know it ten minutes pass and you're both standing in front of your house.
Mark lowers the umbrella and scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Listen, if you really don't want to talk to me I'll just leave." You can hear the sincerity in his voice and your heart wrenches. You turn around soundlessly and unlock the front door with your key.
"Stupid," you mutter. "You think I'm actually going to let you walk home in your current state?" You open the door and look at him expectantly. "Come inside."
You enter and take your shoes off, heaving a sigh. Why does it seem like you can never win with him?
“Listen, I’m really sorry—“
“Sit down for now,” you interrupt, refusing to turn around and look at him. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”
When you come back, towel and dry hoodie in hand, you're met with Mark's bare back facing you. He's hunched over on a stool in the kitchen, attempting to dry his damp hair with his even more damp shirt that he's taken off.
"Here," you toss a black hoodie his way. "You left it here a long time ago."
Mark looks surprised as he peers your way.
You sigh. "It's clean, don't worry."
"I wasn't worried about that," he chuckles. "I just... didn't expect you to care."
Ouch. "You're still my boyfriend, you know." You walk over to him and take his wet shirt from his grip. "I'll wash this later."
Mark nods and languidly slips the hoodie on as you stand silently in front of him. Once he's got his head in through the shirt's hole, you frown and run your fingers through his wet strands. "You need to stop being so careless."
"I didn't mean to forget, I swear."
"I'm not talking about the date, Mark," you sigh. "I mean with your health. Because of me, you could've gotten sick." You take the towel and place it over his head, slowly drying his wet locks. Willing yourself not to peak down at his reaction, you train your eyes on the towel.
But lack of self control gets the best of you as you glance down and, to your dismay, lock eyes with Mark. His brown eyes stare up at yours.
“You,” you step away from him and turn around, a blush flaring your cheeks, “you can dry your own hair.”
“Huh?” he tilts his head to the side. “But why? It feels better when you do it.”
“Stop that!” you whirl around and clench your fists. “Stop being cute! I’m supposed to be mad at you... And I still am!”
Mark stares at you in shock, “I wasn’t trying to.”
“I was trying to stay mad at you for forgetting our date. I was trying to avoid you all day yesterday and today but here you are forcing me to worry over you! Who does that? Who looks that cute when they completely stood their girlfriend up? It’s not fair!”
But you can’t bring yourself to witness his reaction so you take a deep breath and bite your lip, “I guess I’m just frustrated that I can’t stay mad at you. Even after what you did.”
“I know apologizing won’t cut it,” Mark cards a hand through his hair. “And I know I messed up. But I didn’t mean to forget, I swear. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I’m sorry.”
You say nothing, instead fishing for a reason to stay angry at him, like how your floor is wet now because of him or how he still manages to look good after getting drenched by the rain. There are plentiful of reasons to stay angry, but you find yourself taking a step towards him to grab a fistful of his shirt.
“I hate you,” you mutter defeatedly. “But I hate me even more.”
Mark envelops you in a hug and holds you flush to his body, burying his face in your neck. “I love you.”
“You two,” Seoyeon lets out a groan of disdain the next day, “are just too much.”
You blink at her innocently. “Hm? I thought you wanted us to make up?”
“I’m really starting to regret that,” she sighs, narrowing her eyes at your hands intertwined with Mark’s.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Mark teases. “Didn’t you miss this?” He turns his head and puckers his lips at you (along with the cringe-worthy kiss noises, of course).
Seoyeon mock gags. “I take it back. I definitely liked it better when you two were fighting.”
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