genre: fluff wordcount: 559 song: i.l.y. - the rose an: a drabble that took me a lot longer than i thought it would. got hit by quarantine exhaustion and this is what it inspired bc ive been having a lot of mark feels all of a sudden ....... this is how it starts isnt it
non-idol!au
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a third crackle of thunder rumbled through the thin walls of your house, and your eyes didn’t flutter once.
you were shattered, and after a long day of doing a grand total of nothing you expected yourself to feel more guilt. but as your eyelids sunk closed once again, with the dark and comforting veil of sleep submerging your thoughts until they disappeared entirely, you couldn’t work up the energy to. and so the faded hues of the tv flashed across the room and you continued to doze off.
it took the clatter of keys at the front door for your eyes to open. drowsily you blinked as a yawn overtook you, a sigh breaking the applause of the rain from the other room, before it was plunged back into silence at the shut of the door. with your hands heavy, you wiped at your eyes before they immediately fell closed again.
they became stuck there as the wind howled, and as much as you wanted to greet your boyfriend, it quickly became apparent that would be an impossibility. testing your voice with a tired hum as your ears caught the tail-end of a crash—meaning his bag, stuffed with shoes and food and god alone knows what else, had been discarded by the back of the door as he always did—you found your throat thick with the cobwebs of sleep. you hoped he didn’t mind.
a few minutes passed, ones you couldn’t have counted like you used to even if you tried, your boyfriend staggered into the living room. his eyes too were narrowed above a pair of smudged crescents, scouring the room for the sign of his comfort. his fingers traced the edge of the light-switch before he struck gold in the shadows of the storm. with your body curled and knees bunched beneath a blanket, you blended in with the sofa in the ebbs and flows of the morphing tv screen. the corners of his lips twitched as he made his way haphazardly round the room to you, flicking his fringe from his eyes with an uneasy hand. you had created a safe haven from the storm without even realising it.
you barely registered the weight that pressed upon the sofa at your side, but when a coolness trickled through the bare skin of your arm all the way to your heart, you were pulled out from your limbo briefly. his hair was wet, tousled with a towel left to dry in the porch, and left dishevelled.
as mark shifted himself into the nook you had made that fit only him, you inhaled the scent of him. he smelt of fresh rain, the non-specific floral scent of cheap laundry detergent, his walk home through the dripping pine-lined back alley, the remnants of cherry air freshener—johnny had given him a lift.
you turned your body so he could rest his head on your chest, pulling him into your embrace to which you met little resistance. with his face shaded from the flashes of lightning that pierced through the thin curtains, you mindlessly brushed strands of hair from his forehead. you didn’t open your eyes once, but you knew his were closed too. feeling him gradually exhale while his body fell limp against yours, you settled your chin gently against his crown.
and there you finally sunk into sleep.
~~~
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