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apricity

PAIRING. mark x oc/reader GENRES. coming-of-age, friendship, some romance if you squint your eyes, drama, slice of life WORDS. 12.2k

SYNOPSIS. as you attempt to navigate between the worlds of college and adulthood, triggering some bitter memories that involve your parents’ divorce, you and mark learn that perhaps, new traditions can be created as long as your hearts are connected.

APRICITY (n.) the warmth of the sun in the winter.

TRIGGER WARNING. mentions of abandonment issues, swearing, reader got mummy issues, mentions of divorce

TAGLIST. @crescent-iak

written for the ❆ walking in a winter wonderland collab ❆ hosted by @suh-insane & @neocitybynight

PROMPTS. “It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas everywhere you go.” - Michael Bublé (It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas) // “Christmas is just about my favorite time. Ever since I was a little kid, I always felt like it was my own personal holiday.” - Ernest Saves Christmas

[a/n]: happy new year! this was supposed to be released on christmas, but life got in the way. i was able to finish this up just in time for new year, but i lowkey rushed the ending. if you see any mistakes, i apologize! with that said, enjoy! ♥

Heading to the mall as a child with my parents and my brother Jisung to visit Santa’s Workshop to take a picture with the old man had always been something I looked forward to every year. But then, our parents got divorced when I was six years old and Jisung was three. Jisung went and live with our mother, whereas I stayed with our father.

Our father always tried his best to make it up to me. Being a single parent was never easy. But, I’ve always appreciated his efforts and never kicked up a fuss. Jisung frequently called because he missed us and as the older sibling, I always had to comfort him and reassure him that I was fine even when I felt the complete opposite.

The first year of Christmas without Jisung and our mother, my father promised me that he would bring me to the mall to take a picture with Santa Claus—because I’ve been a good girl, he said. Only, he forgotten about it and had to run through a few red lights to make it to the mall before closing time.

We made it in line, but because it was so close to closing time, they didn’t allow anyone else to enter. I remember my father trying to make a compromise with the staff while I stood next to him blankly, wondering if this meant that I couldn’t make a wish to Santa Claus.

“She can come with us!” I then heard a voice chirp.

I raised my head to see a boy smiling at me. I then stared at the red cord separating the two of us. He was the last one admitted to see Santa Claus. The staff looked confused and conflicted.

“She can take the picture with me!” he added and then pulled on his mother’s hand. “That’s okay, right, Mum?”

He didn’t even wait for any of the adults’ replies before he unhooked the red cord from the pole and then pulled me along with him.

“Don’t cry! The holidays are supposed to be a happy time, yeah?” he told me and sloppily tried to wipe my face with his sleeve.

I nodded unsurely. He then grinned back at me before we made our way to Santa’s throne.

Christmas is just about my favourite time. Ever since I was a little kid, I always felt like it was my own personal holiday.

Because that’s when I met my best friend, Mark Lee.

My hands twiddled with my phone, hidden in my coat’s pocket, as I waited for Mark to arrive. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas, but it has always been tradition for us to head over to the mall to take a picture with Santa Claus. Worry was evident on my face as I waited for my best friend. I just received some news that I did not know how to break it to my closest ones.

Mark being one of them.

“Hey!”

Speak of the devil.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Mark said with a smile as he approached me and then gave me a tight hug. “I had a few questions to ask the prof regarding my thesis.”

I shook my head as I returned the gesture. “Don’t worry too much about it. I didn’t wait long.”

“Shall we head over to the old man, then?”

I nodded in agreement as he took the lead. Mark was talking to me about something related to school, but my mind was off elsewhere, unable to focus on anything he was telling me.

Knowing me for so long, it didn’t take him long to notice. Our friends always said that Mark was someone oblivious, almost insensitive to other’s feelings, but never mine because he had a soft spot for me. I always brushed their comments off because it was normal for Mark to act like so. After all, we were best friends.

But after receiving the news and then hit with the possible reality that I was going to leave…

I’ve realized that Mark was simply more than a best friend.

Perhaps I’ve been living in denial for all these years, and now I had to deal with these feelings, unknown as to how to proceed from now on without hurting anyone, including myself.

“My mum asked if you were coming over for dinner with your dad on Christmas,” he then mentioned as you two waited in line. “She sounds pretty excited.”

I smiled at the thought of his mother. “I’ll ask my dad, but I’m sure he will say yes.”

Mark and his family probably knew the answer but asked just to be polite. My father and I always kept Christmas free, in case Jisung and our mother decided to spend Christmas together. But that never happened. Hence, our annual Christmas dinners at the Lees.

It was finally our turn after a half an hour wait. The Santa’s Helper was the same one from a couple of years ago, which made me wonder just how old she was really. I could tell from the arch in Mark’s brow that he was probably thinking the same. It was a question we kept asking ourselves every year, but since we were close to our last year of college, that was probably the reason why we were more curious than usual.

“You two again?” the elf said. “Aren’t you guys getting too old for this?’

Mark scrunched his nose in response. “Is there such thing as getting too old for Santa?”

“Yeah?” she replied in a snarky way and looked us up-and-down.

I rolled my eyes, not liking her attitude one bit. I wasn’t one to care much about her remarks. If anything, they were the same every year and they never bothered us much. But maybe because I was stressed out more than usual that caused me to give her a reply.

“Well, I mean, we can say the same about you, can’t we?” I added.

Mark seemed surprised by my retort—even the woman seemed surprised. After all, it was always meant to be witter banter, almost like an inside joke between the three of us since we recognized each other from all the visits. Even I was taken aback with my own attitude and immediately apologized to her. “Sorry, I’m just– It must be the leftover stress from finals.”

The woman gave me a small pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. I find it cute that you guys still come every year even though you guys know that Santa isn’t real.”

“Wait, Santa isn’t real?”

The three of us gasped at the small child waiting behind us, his eyes wide in disbelief after hearing what the Helper has said.

Mark immediately crouched down to the child’s eye level and tilted his head. “Hey, what are you talking about, little man? Of course, Santa is real. Isn’t he right in front of you?”

“Y-yeah, but then why did his elf say that he isn’t real?”

“The elf is only joking!” I added and joined in with Mark on his plan. “After all, we wouldn’t be here either if Santa isn’t real, right?”

“I– I guess?” he replied, still unconvinced. “Then, does this mean you’ve got a wish for Santa?”

Both Mark and I were taken aback with his question. Since we met here, we both decided to commemorate our friendship by visiting the mall every year, on the same day that we met around fifteen years ago. Ever since we learned that Santa didn’t really exist, we switched to simply commemorating. We never really had wishes to ask.

Mark replied, “Nah, man. Just want to see Santa. After all, we only get to see him once a year, am I right, little man?”

He nodded his head before tugging on my coat. “What about you? Don’t you have a wish?”

I hesitated a little, skillfully avoiding the questioning gaze on Mark’s part, and then nodded unsurely. “Actually, I do.”

Right after this interaction, it was nearly our turn. So, we bade goodbye to the kid before making our way to Santa’s throne.

“So,” Mark started to say, “you’ve got a wish?”

I shrugged a side of my shoulders. “I guess I do.”

Mark waited for me to elaborate, but I remained silent. He then let out a small chuckle as he said, “So, keeping secrets from your best friend now, huh?”

I was about to reply when the elf asked us to come forward to take the picture. I was saved from having this conversation with him, but I knew that eventually, I would have to face it regardless whether I was ready or not.

After all, wasn’t late better than never?

But in my case, I would rather choose never.

Right after hanging out with Mark and having dinner with him, I went straight home. It wasn’t so late that my father would worry about me. Rather, it was the opposite. I’ve always went back home early to make sure that he had dinner and was fine. As years passed by, it was almost as if I was the parent and my dad was the child.

“Oh, hey, Dad,” I said, the relief evident in the tone of my voice, when I got home and saw him in the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet?”

He replied with a pensive hum as he washed the dishes. I immediately joined him and motioned him to hand me the gloves. My father gave me a look, an action that I mirrored, before he sighed and handed me the pink plastic gloves. I began to wash the dishes while he started brewing some tea for the two of us.

“Jisung called earlier,” he said as he poured the tea into two cups.

“Did he?” I replied. “What for?”

“Apparently, your mother has something to tell you.”

My body automatically froze at his words and took a deep breath before resuming my actions. “Well, I don’t have any intention having a talk with her or anything similar of the sort.”

When my dad remained silent at my words, I sighed tiredly. I put the plates in the drying racket before removing the gloves and joined my dad at the dining table. He handed me a mug, looking guilty as ever.

“You already know what she has to tell me, do you.”

It came out more as a statement rather than a question. The lack of a response on his part told me everything I needed to know. “Is there any point in meeting her?”

“Honey–”

“I don’t want to speak to her. She doesn’t deserve any of our attention,” I stated without sparing him a look. “And honestly, Dad? Out of the two of us, aren’t you supposed to be the least forgiving one?”

He let out a sigh as he rubbed his temples. It never hit me until now how old and tired he had gotten over the years. How tiring and stressful it must be for a single man to raise a daughter, a daughter who turned into a teenager, a daughter turning into a young adult. How difficult must it be for a man to raise one without a feminine touch. But I never reproached him for it, never hated him for it. If anything, I hated the mother who was never present in my life.

My dad, unlike the one who birthed me, still tried his best to be part of Jisung’s life. I was never aware of the circumstances that led me to be separated from my little brother, but it made me wonder why Dad was the only one making the efforts.

“Honey, look at me,” he then said in a soft voice. “I’m almost near my fifties. I don’t want to be constantly fighting with your mother and to keep this negativity in my life.”

“Well, I don’t get how she’s acting as if she’s the only one who can do the forgiving around here,” I mumbled with crossed arms.

He stifled a laugh. “And whether you like it or not, you truly are your mother’s daughter. That stubbornness and pride of yours definitely did not come from me.”

I grimaced at his remark. I never really liked being compared to my mother even though it was all I could hear ever since I was a kid. I used to love it, until she left us. Imagine growing up hearing that you resembled so much to a person who was like a ghost to you.

She never had a presence in my life. So, how was it possible that I was constantly reminded of her at every chance possible?

“Whatever,” I ended up saying before putting the cup in the sink. “Don’t stay up too late. I’m going to take a shower now and then call Jisung when I’m done.”

“Alright. Good night, honey.”

“Night, Dad.”

After a quick shower, I immediately headed to my room and FaceTimed Jisung, who was, thankfully, online.

“Hey there, little chick,” I said with a smile, happy to see my little brother after so long. “Heard from Dad that you called.”

From the look he was sporting, I could tell that I was in for some bad news. He gave me a wave and a tight smile, as if unsure where to go from there.

“Are you two coming over for Christmas?” I asked, starting the conversation. “I’m assuming, no.”

“Actually, we are.”

I was slightly taken aback. But the only reaction he got out of me was just some quick blinking of my eyes. I told Dad the news that I had kept from everyone, but Jisung was one of the few that I didn’t tell. Only because I hadn’t made up my decision yet. It made me question whether Dad has told my birth giver or not.

“Huh… Didn’t expect that.” I cleared my throat with a small exhale. “So? Do you know what she’s planning?”

“Kind of…” he admitted with twiddling thumbs. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I’ve never liked anything that came out of her mouth, to be honest.”

Jisung faked a wince. “Aren’t you a bit too harsh on Mum?”

I sent him a glare through the camera, which made cower backwards.

I’d never hidden my… distaste for our mother. With time, Jisung came to understand why I bore such feelings towards her, but he was the son who got to spend his life with her. I wasn’t surprised by the fact that he would take her side at some times. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt me any less.

My hands unconsciously clenched at his remark and I breathed out sharply. I never resented and reproached Jisung for receiving love from both of our parents. After all, it wasn’t his fault that our mother didn’t want to spend any time with me or bothered to get to know me for the last fifteen years.

I didn’t understand what was so important that she had to come all the way to our hometown to tell me the news. More important than getting to know her daughter? Some would say that I had issues and that I needed to get over them, but knowing my mother’s personality, I would never be able to get that closure.

I’ve always given her a chance to explain herself. To explain why she couldn’t act like a proper parent to me like Dad did with Jisung. But she would always brush me off whenever I brought up the subject so I just stopped bothering—stopped bothering with the calls and the letters and the emails. After all, why put myself through this unnecessary pain?

“Mum said that you’ve got news to tell us, too.”

My brow twitched at his remark. “Did she, now?”

The tone of my voice dripped with sarcasm. Jisung could tell that I wasn’t too pleased about this bit of information. And I wasn’t. So, our father did tell the news to his ex-wife.

I mentally sighed.

He wanted to make efforts with her, so it was something I should have expected. I was slowly getting frustrated over the fact that I didn’t have anyone to get angry at. I’ve always had a soft spot for my old man, so that was out of the question. Jisung was innocent in all of this. And as much as I wanted to get angry at my mother, it wasn’t her fault that my father decided to open his big mouth.

“I’m a bit tired,” I croaked out. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, little chick.”

My little brother bit his bottom lip, making me wonder just what exactly he wanted to say to me, but he ended up sighing and nodding at my words. “Good night.”

The second the screen went dark after I ended the call, I immediately sent a text over to Mark, wondering if he was still awake. He instantly replied that he was and sensed that something was wrong with that one message. He then asked me if he wanted to go for a late-night drive with some drive-through food. I sent over the thumbs-up emoji, and added that I was going to pick him up in exactly ten minutes.

I changed my clothes and grabbed the keys from my desk before heading over to my dad’s room, wondering if he was already asleep. I knocked on his door. “Hey Dad, are you asleep?”

“No, honey,” his voice from the other side of the door said, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” I replied as I opened the door a little bit, and plastered a smile onto my face. “I’m just going to meet with Mark for a while and then come back.”

He nodded and turned off the lamp on his nightstand. “Alright, honey. Be safe. Call me if there’s anything.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Ten minutes or so later, I found Mark already waiting for me, sitting on the sidewalk in front of his house. I immediately chided him the second he entered my car and blasted the heater. “Mark, you do realize it’s winter outside, right? What the hell were you thinking waiting for me outside in the cold when you could have just done so inside your house?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I was excited to see you.”

I cocked a brow at him as I drove off towards our favourite fast-food restaurant, McDonalds, and ignored the butterflies in my stomach caused by his sweet words. “You just saw me today.”

“I know,” he stated with a hand behind his neck. “But you seemed distracted. So, when you texted me earlier, I was hoping that maybe you’ll finally tell me what was on your mind.”

My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I was reminded of the idea that my mother was coming into town with Jisung in a tow. If they were to come, she should have just sent Jisung alone, instead. I wouldn’t have minded picking him up at the train station. But then I remembered that this wasn’t the thing that bothered me early on in the afternoon.

I didn’t call him to speak of the news that I hid from him, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Apparently, Jisung and my mother are coming over for Christmas.”

I didn’t need to look over him to know that he froze up at my words. Mark knew just how much I disliked my mother. One of the reasons why I got along with him so well was that he never hit me with the “mummy issues” and the “abandonment issues” lines, and always wholeheartedly listened to my ranting. He never once pretended to sympathize or tried to understood my pain, but he had always been there for me—by my side.

And I didn’t know if I could live a life without him right next to me.

“Is that so?”

I hummed in reply. “Don’t worry, we’re still coming over for Christmas.”

“With your mother?”

I pursed my lips. “Actually, I forgot to ask my dad. But tell your mum to keep two spots open, just in case.”

“Only two?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Mark, it’s my mother. Do you really think she’s going to come?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Fine,” I said. “Keep one spot open. Whether she’s coming or not, I’m still having dinner over at your place.”

“What about your old man, then?”

“My old man can starve, for all that I care,” I grumbled. “It’s his fault that she’s coming over in the first place.”

Mark chuckled lowly. “Why would it be his fault?”

I almost slapped my hand to my loud mouth. I guess I inherited that from my father. Being with Mark and talking with him always brought me a sense of comfort that was unachievable with any of my other friends. Perhaps because I practically grew up with him. I didn’t dare to bring my non-platonic feelings into this. This sense of comfort would always make me reveal my darkest, inner most feelings to him. And maybe it was the fact that Mark never ran away from them—from me—that made me attracted to him, in the first place.

“He wants us to have a good relationship or something,” I revealed. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right? “And somehow, my mother thinks that fifteen years later is suddenly a good time to get to know her first child.”

“Better late than never.”

“How about never?” I scoffed. “I was fine without having any ties with her.”

It was his turn to scoff. “We both know that’s a lie.”

I narrowed my eyes at him before ordering through the speaker at the McDonalds’s drive-through. Within minutes, we got our order and we decided to eat in my car in the restaurant’s parking lot. I rummaged through the brown paper bag after parking and handed him his burger and fries before taking my nuggets out.

“I worded that incorrectly,” I continued from where we left off. “What I meant to say is, I was fine living without any sense of hope. I… I gave up on her a long time ago, Mark, and the minute I think that I’m finally over it—that I think that, you know what? I might be fine living without a motherly presence for the rest of my life, my father just goes and drop this bomb on me.”

I could feel Mark’s eyes boring into the side of my face and I shoved a fry in my mouth to distract myself from it. My best friend was an honest and kind person, a bit too innocent, if you asked me. But those were some of his best charms. And those were the very characteristics that made me trust him so deeply. My trust in him would always be unwavering because I knew that he would never lie to me, never do anything to anger or disappoint me.

It was only too bad that I wasn’t the same. The guilt of hiding such important news to him ate me up every second that I was basked by his presence.

“I don’t know what to say,” he ended up saying after a long silence.

It sometimes bothered me that I was relying so much on him, that I always ran to him whenever I was confronted with my family business and issues. Mark would always have this conflicted look on his face whenever I would rant to him. I always reassured him that I talked to him not because I needed him or wanted him to give me advice. The fact that he listened to me rant was good enough. At least, for me.

But it always seemed like he was plague by this idea that it was his duty that because he was my best friend, it was also his responsibility to cheer me up, no matter what – that he always had to have something to say in reply. I never demanded him to act this way, but perhaps, unconsciously, my actions said otherwise.

“Nothing,” I murmured as I reclined my seat and lied down with my eyes closed and my hands across my stomach. “I don’t need you to say anything.”

I could hear Mark shift in his seat judging from the rustling of his clothes and the small creak caused by the recliner. He then exhaled slowly and grabbed my hand, startling me just the slightest, but I didn’t dare open my eyes.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he mumbled back.

I gathered all the courage I had in my body and squeezed his hand. “Just stay like this.”

He sounded confused as he replied, “Like what?”

“By my side,” I answered softly. “Promise me that you’ll stay by my side.”

Mark remained silent although I could hear his jacket rustle. It made me anxious to hear an answer on his part. So, I opened my eyes and turned my head to face him, to only find Mark’s face a few millimetres away from mine. His face was so close that I could count the number of lashes of his eyes and see the small freckles and that small mole on his cheek that I’ve always adored.

I instinctively held my breath, surprised by this close proximity. I almost wanted to scold him and ask him why was he so close to him, but for once, I allowed my greediness to take over and take advantage of the situation.

He stared at me, his eyes unblinking and unwavering. His hand was then on my cheek, rubbing comforting circles. I subconsciously leaned against his hand that felt so warm and loving, and smelled a bit like the apple and cherry blossom hand cream I got him for his birthday. A mellow and tender scent that somehow strongly reminded me of him.

Mark then gave me a small, shy smile as he told me, “I promise.”

Jisung and our mother arrived at our house exactly 2 days before Christmas—something that was not told to me. I shot a narrowed glance over at my father who had the audacity to ignore me as we both waited for them by our house’s entrance. Jisung seemed ecstatic to see us as he ran and hugged me the second he got out of the car.

“I’ve missed you so much!”

“Same,” I replied before Jisung hugged our father.

My smile was instantly wiped the second I saw the driver come out of the vehicle. Her face was the spitting image of mine, only it was older. There was no denying that I was related to her. If anyone saw us walking side-by-side in the streets, they would know that she was my mother. People would have to be blind to not notice our resemblance.

The said woman walked up to us with their luggage in her hands. She had an awkward smile on as she looked at her ex-husband and daughter. She was about to hug me when she realized that she had too many things in her hands to do so.

“Oh, Mum, here, let me help you with those–”

“Jisung, come on in,” I quickly said and pulled him inside. “It’s freezing outside.”

“Not slick, sis,” Jisung muttered to me as I forced him to take off his boots.

“Shut up,” I shot back under my breath. “Did you really think that I was going to let her hug me? When I literally haven’t seen her ever since I was six years old?”

“Well, yes?”

“Jisung, I’d rather–”

“Actually, I don’t think I want to know, sis.”

“If anything, I’m surprised that she actually recognized me.”

Jisung snorted. “What? Like Mum would actually forget about her only daughter?”

My brows furrowed at his statement. “Well, she’s been doing it for the past fifteen years—why stop now?”

I headed into the kitchen, Jisung following me suit. I took out three mugs from the cabinet and hesitated a bit when my hand lingered over a fourth one. I sighed through my nose and grabbed it before making a total of four mugs of hot chocolate.

I could hear our parents talking in the living room. I barely finished stirring the last cup when Jisung suddenly grabbed all four and brought them over to the living room.

“Sis made us all some hot chocolate!” he exclaimed happily, like a small child. When I thought about it, he was perhaps still a child.

I mentally scolded myself for making them. It used to be a tradition for us to drink hot chocolate during the holidays. It was all we ever drank. Jisung was probably too young to remember which made me wonder whether our mother kept this tradition or not after they moved away. Dad did, in our case.

“Hot chocolate?” our mother then said. “Oh, I’m afraid that I don’t drink such sweet stuff anymore.”

I pursed my lips and grabbed her mug before bringing it to my lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.”

“No need to–”

“It’s just that we used to do that before,” I said, cutting her off. I remained stoic as I analyzed her facial expression. “Dad said you wanted to spend some quality time as a family, or something. So, I thought that making some hot cocoa could commemorate that seeing it used to be our tradition, but I guess not.”

My father said my name in a warning, and I tried not to roll my eyes in response. I glanced over at the time and realized there were still a couple of hours left before the mall would close. Seeing that I haven’t completely finished buying Christmas gifts, I figured this would be a good time to escape.

“You know what, I almost forgot that I was supposed to meet up with Mark, today,” I nonchalantly declared as I got up from the sofa before pulling Jisung up at the same time, causing him to hiss as the hot chocolate spilled a little over his sweater. “Jisung said that he missed him.”

“I did?”

I pinched his underarm and my little brother wailed slightly in pain. “Yes, you did,” I repeated before grabbing both of our coats and pushed him towards our house’s entrance and then into my car.

“Seatbelt,” I tutted at him as I started the car.

He did as I asked and then crossed his arms with a smirk. I didn’t like where this conversation was going to go. “So…”

“So, what?” I practically spat out as I quickly drove away from my house—away from my mother. I inwardly scolded myself for talking in such way towards my little brother. But thankfully, he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Am I finally going to meet this boyfriend of yours?”

I groaned and made a face at him. “Boy space friend, Jisung.”

“As if you don’t have a massive crush on your boy space friend, sis.”

I blew a raspberry. “Well, I’m not going to go and deny that.”

My little brother seemed surprised, as if he expected me to deny his claims. Truth to be told, I was going to, but what was the point? Denying it wouldn’t suddenly make those feelings go away. And besides, if things continued this way—without me doing anything about the situation—then admitting to my little brother that I had strong feelings for my best friend wasn’t going to do anything, either.

“You know what, sis? You’re actually really cool.”

I snorted with a small smile at his reply. “Took you long enough to realize that.”

“But, are we really going to meet up with him, though?”

“Yeah,” I answered as I glanced over at my phone that suddenly lit up, notifying me of the message I just received from Mark. “I texted him right before leaving and he said he’ll meet up with us in a couple of minutes.”

He then mumbled something incoherent that I failed to catch as I was too focused on trying to find a parking spot. I thought I heard Mark’s name somewhere in that sentence, but didn’t think too much of it. After parking the car, we immediately headed inside the mall.

“Hey, did you buy anything for Mum?” Jisung asked me out of nowhere.

“No, was I supposed to?” I answered without hesitation.

He gave me a look to which I replied with an innocent ‘what?’ and raised shoulders. Jisung then shook his head in what seemed to be disappointment. I didn’t let it bother me too much.

I did think of procuring a gift for her, but came up with nothing because the realization that I didn’t know much about the older woman hit me. The other years, I didn’t have to think of a gift as Jisung and her never really came over. This year, however, they decided to be different for some reason.

“Get her something nice, like skin care products or something,” Jisung then probed me as he pointed out one of the shops. “I think she’ll love that.”

“I was just thinking of getting her like a mug, or something,” I replied after glancing over at the shop and never looked back. “Or maybe like a sweater?”

“Both are pretty bad,” Jisung continued with furrowed brows. “But the sweater is definitely better than the mug idea.”

“Fine, I’ll get her a sweater,” I caved in, practically exasperated. “Pick it out for me and I’ll pay.”

“That defeats the purpose of you buying the gift, no?”

I scrunched my nose. “No? In the end, the gift is still from me, is it not?”

“But you’re supposed to be the one picking it!”

I rolled my eyes. “As if she can tell who picked it.” I ignored his jabs and then pulled him towards one of my favourite bookstores. Some of my friends from university worked there as part-timers. I was hoping that one of them was working tonight so that they could help me order some of the books that I’d been eyeing.

My frown immediately turned into a smile when my friend, Renjun, greeted us as we entered the store. His expression immediately turned into confusion when he noticed that the person next to me was someone unfamiliar to him.

“Renjun, this is my little brother Jisung,” I introduced the two. “Jisung, this is Renjun, a friend from school.”

“Oh, here I thought he was Mark.”

“What about Mark?” Renjun asked with a teasing smirk.

I flickered my friend’s forehead. “Is he here, yet?”

Renjun hissed as he rubbed the sore spot and then nodded. “Yeah, he’s somewhere in the store. I think I saw him in the poetry section the last time he asked me for help.”

My brows furrowed. “Poetry? What is he doing in that section?”

He bobbed his shoulders. “Beats me.”

“Okay…” I replied with a raised brow, just wondering why my best friend would be in a section he usually didn’t scour. Looking at the fake smile plastered on Renjun’s face, I had a feeling that he was hiding something from me. But I didn’t pry. After all, who was I to criticize him for hiding something?

“I’ll stay with Renjun!” Jisung suddenly announced.

That took me by surprise. “You will?”

“He will?”

“Yeah, I still have to find you a gift!” Jisung said with a confident nod. “And I need Renjun’s help with that.”

“Okay…” I repeated and pointed towards the back of the store. “Well, I’ll be in the fiction section if you need me or anything…”

“Okay, bye!” Jisung exclaimed and pushed me, startling me in the process.

I perused the shelves for a while and found the books before deciding to head over to the poetry section to see if Mark was still around. Instead, I found the section empty, but that didn’t dampen my spirits too much. Instead, I took the time to see what else was new. I was about to head back to the cash where Renjun was now manning, when my eyes then fell upon Fernando Pessoa’s A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems.

I lied when I said that my mother didn’t even bother reaching out to me for the past fifteen years.

She did, once.

Only one time she remembered that she had a daughter and she sent me a poetry book written by the same writer. A poetry collection named Forever Someone Else. I almost wanted to laugh at myself for actually remembering the title and the author of the book she had sent me for Christmas when I turned sixteen.

I was too consumed by my own anger that I didn’t even call her to thank her for the gift. And although she had decided to gift me something that year, she didn’t even bother giving it to me in person. Instead, she shipped it to me. Although angry, I didn’t have the heart to throw the book out. Admittedly, perhaps there was a part of me who was secretly glad that she knew of my love for books and poetry.

That was the only time she had ever gifted me something ever since she and my dad divorced.

And ever since then, I didn’t bother touching any works written by Fernando Pessoa.

Jisung’s words from earlier on echoed in my head as I quickly flipped through the book. Almost unconsciously, I added the book to the mountain of books piled up in the shopping basket. I then headed for the cash, ready to pay for them all. I felt both giddy and nervous, though I wasn’t sure whether it was because I could use Renjun’s employee discount on my new purchases or because I found a book that I secretly hoped that my mother would appreciate.

My eyes then slightly widened when I saw my little brother interacting with Mark and Renjun. The three seemed pretty animated about something which piqued my curiosity. I quickly marched up to them and then poked Mark’s shoulder, startling him as he let out a small yelp.

I snickered at my best friend’s reaction before asking, “What are you guys being all sneaky for? Doing something against your conscience?”

I titled my head in confusion. Why was Jisung acting all familiar with Mark as if they knew each other since a long time ago? Even if I spoke often about Mark, that didn’t explain their sudden closeness. Especially since Jisung was such an introvert. He never really liked meeting new people unless he really had to. And even then, he was courteous towards them at best. Now, Jisung was acting as if Mark was his very own best friend.

“N-nothing!” Mark replied a bit too loudly and I winced. He mouthed a small apology before explaining, “W-we were talk– talking about Renjun’s crush!”

My head immediately flipped towards the said male whose eyes were wide at Mark’s proclamation. Renjun laughed, though it sounded a tad too fake for me, and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Yeah, my crush! She–”

I raised a hand in faked disgust. “I’m not really interested, so can you just ring these up?”

Renjun stuck a tongue at me before he started on his task. “Fine!”

I rolled my eyes at his childishness before adding, in a sing-song way, “Don’t forget to use your employee discount, thank you.” I then turned to Mark and eyed his paper bag with a raised brow. “Are you done with your purchases? I tried looking for you in the poetry section but I couldn’t find you.”

Mark quickly hid the paper bag behind him, definitely not looking suspicious at all. But then again, subtlety had never been his forte.

“Yep, just about done.” He eyed the book that Renjun just scanned. “Pessoa? I thought you hated him?”

My nose scrunched at his statement. “I don’t exactly hate him… Let’s just say I’ve got bad memories associated with one of his books.”

He raised his hands, silently promising he was not going to ask more. I paid for my books, thanking Renjun and promising him that we have to do something soon during the winter holidays before heading out with Jisung and Mark, the two whispering literally behind my back.

But my head was too preoccupied with one of Fernando Pessoa’s poems, the one that resonated the most with me when I first read Forever Someone Else.

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd; the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

There always was this small hidden feeling of guilt that threatened to overcome me every time Jisung tried to make me and our mother rekindle our relationship. Of course, he knew that it was never easy as it seemed. But what he failed to understand is that, ever since I was six years old, I’d always seen my mother’s divorce as a sign of betrayal.

A child’s world is often so small, which is exactly why they always so wholeheartedly believed in their parents. But when that very belief and trust is betrayed, whether it be by their absence, their words, their actions, their feelings—it hurts.

It would leave a wound far too deep that any adult around could feasibly imagine.

But perhaps, slowly, but surely, I could find it in my heart to forgive my mother.

Christmas dinner ended up being at our place instead of at the Lees, which was a first and not to mention downright weird, to say the least. Jisung and our father ended up being responsible for dinner whereas our mother and I had to decorate the tree and place the table. I was certain that this was the little devil’s plan to get us together, and frankly, even I thought it was a great plan until we were faced with each other.

I silently cursed at my brother’s enthusiasm as it seemed like I was getting roped into his antics a bit too easily.

In the end, we never ended up speaking a word to each other, but I didn’t fail to catch the slight widening of her eyes when she saw my gift to her, wrapped prettily with a bow underneath the Christmas tree. The awkwardness and tension was getting to be too much for me that I instantly released a sigh of relief when I heard the doorbell ring.

“I’ll get it!” I announced and immediately headed for the door.

Mark’s parents shouted my name as soon as I opened the door, surprising me just a tad. I returned their smile and quickly invited them in as they wished me a merry Christmas with a tight hug and a small kiss on the cheek. I was about to greet Mark when my breath got caught in my throat at how handsome he looked in his black suit and pushed-back gelled hair.

Oh, this was not good for my heart.

“H-hey,” I ended up stuttering out. “Merry Christmas. You look good.”

Mark rubbed the nape of his neck and looked down at his feet. “T-thanks,” he replied. “You look good too. M-merry Christmas.”

I cleared my throat. “Come on in.”

He entered the house and removed his shoes before heading inside to greet my father, then Jisung. Mark abruptly froze up in front of my mother, whom he had heard about loads of time from me, but I guess that was probably the first time he ever met her in person. He quickly bowed in greeting and wished her a merry Christmas before placing his gifts underneath the tree.

“So.” My mother suddenly appeared out of nowhere next to me, causing me to recoil slightly. “That’s the famous Mark I’ve been hearing so much about, huh?”

“From who? From me?” I replied a bit too harshly.

Old habits died hard, huh.

I quickly excused myself and headed for the dining room to finish placing the table. Mark arrived soon after and started helping. I didn’t miss the nervous glances he would throw over at my direction, either.

“So, like… That’s your mum, huh?”

I sighed. “The one and only.”

“She seems–”

I raised a cautious brow at him.

“–nice.”

“You don’t need to act so polite on my behalf,” I told him.

“I know,” he replied with a small shrug. “But seeing how you two are peacefully co-existing in the same house, I assumed there must be some progress. I wasn’t about to say anything about your mother if I noticed that things were truly bad.”

I was taken aback with his words. “Y-you can tell?”

Mark’s mouth dropped a little as his next words stumbled out, “W-well, I mean– I-I pay attention, I guess? I pay attention to you?”

“Oh,” I lamely replied. “I see.”

I couldn’t describe this tension between the two of us ever since we went on that drive. It lingered in the air, obvious to the two of us. But somehow, we unanimously and silently decided that we were to ignore it, almost as if acknowledging what went down between us would somehow change the nature of our friendship. Though, with time ticking by and not many weeks left for me to tell Mark the news I had been keeping from him, I thought that maybe this was for the best even though I wanted to address the elephant in the room.

We headed back to the living room, where we will be opening the presents before having dinner. Each person would open their gifts received from everyone else before moving on to the next person. My body was tense when my mother opened my gift last, anxious about her reaction to a gift that I wasn’t certain she was going to like. I could tell that Jisung was happy that I got her a gift that was not a mug, though.

Her fingers froze a little before going over the book’s title and author. She smiled a little before raising the book to her chest. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love it.”

Taken by surprise with her nickname given to me, I mumbled, “You’re welcome… I’m happy that you like it.”

“I do,” she replied before giving me her gift to me. “Great minds think alike, if I may say so.”

I opened her gift apprehensively, wondering just what kind of gift she had gotten me. My eyes blinked repeatedly in surprise when the same cover revealed itself to me. I looked at the book in her hands then in mine before bursting out in laughter at the coincidence.

Who would have thought that we would get each other the same gift?

“Thank you,” I said with a genuine smile. “I can’t wait to read it.”

My father got me a new cardholder, Jisung got me a cologne, and Mark’s parents got me some skincare and body lotion. Mark was the last one to give me my gift. He seemed nervous, for some odd reason, which made me wonder whether it had to do with whatever he was talking about with Renjun and Jisung at the bookstore a few days ago.

“Merry Christmas,” he told me with a bashful smile.

“Thank you,” I said before opening his gift, which was relatively larger than the rest of the gifts that I’ve received. There was a small card included, but Mark quickly put his hands out as he exclaimed, “Wait! Um, um, can you like, read this later? Like, in private?”

Our parents were respectful and had enough common sense to not make any comments about his favour. I nodded slowly, wondering what was going on with Mark, but brushed it off as him being nervous around my mother and Jisung, two people he really wasn’t familiar with. Maybe he was embarrassed, but it never bothered him before whenever I read his Christmas cards out loud.

Mark got me a fluffy bathrobe, some tea that I’ve really wanted to try, and a book. “Running on Empty: Overcome Your Childhood Emotional Neglect by Jonice Webb,” I said out loud before realizing that I unintentionally made the atmosphere awkward. It took a few seconds for my brain to process the book’s full title.

“Mark!” his parents scolded him.

I looked over at my mother who did seem uncomfortable in this situation. But neither my father or I did anything to reassure her or comfort her. Both of us knew there was no use in denying reality. It would simply make it harder for either one of us to overcome this wall in our relationship.

“Actually, this gift is perfect,” I said, hoping to dissipate some of the tension. “This has been on my wish list for a while since it was never in stock at the bookstore. I told Renjun to order one as soon as it was in stock” I then turned to Mark with a smile. “Is this what you three have been discussing behind my back, back then?”

Mark cleared his throat. “I-I mean, Renjun said this is a book you’ve been waiting for and,” he shot a subtle glance over in my mother’s direction, “well, I wasn’t sure if I should get it for you since, uh…”

“It’s fine, Mark,” I reassured him and then gave him a tight hug. “I love it.”

“Are you sure?” he mumbled as his arms tightened around me, his meek voice showing just how uncertain and doubtful he was of his own gifts.

“Pinky promise.”

We proceeded to dinner without any further problems. Though, I couldn’t help myself from subtly checking whether my mother was alright or not. I had no intentions of apologizing to her for wanting a book about childhood emotional neglect, nor was I going to comfort her for putting her in such a delicate situation. But I wasn’t that cruel.

Besides, if Jisung wasn’t going to do anything about it, why should I?

Dinner went fine as the parents asked each respective child what was going on in their life. Mark had about a semester left before graduating. Jisung was going to apply for college soon. Everything was going as planned until it was my turn, and Mark’s mother asked me a question I did not expect.

“We heard that you got accepted into a graduate school in the UK, congratulations dear. When will you be leaving?”

Mark dropped his fork in surprise. I opened my mouth slightly and then closed it, unsure as to how was I supposed to answer her question when my best friend Mark didn’t even know that I got accepted for a school that was literally a whole continent away from here.

From home.

From where Mark was.

Mark remained silent, unmoving. And it scared me to see him like that. He was never one to hide anything from me, not even his feelings. So, when I witnessed just how stoic his expression was, something in me just broke. A part of me knew that I had to get him somewhere private to explain—to tell him properly. But I was just too overwhelmed with other feelings.

And although I was overwhelmed with the fact that my secret was out just like that, I was also more concerned with who exactly was the one who told Mrs. Lee. I glared over at my father who subtly shook his head at my silent question. I could tell from his demeanour that he knew exactly who was the guilty party.

“I didn’t know you haven’t told them the news yet,” my mother started to say carefully, but there wasn’t an ounce of regret present in her expression.

That was also one of the things that I hated about my mother.

A stubborn and prideful woman as my father described, she was also one to never admit her mistakes even if she was in fact wrong.

Maybe that was the reasons why she refused to acknowledge that she had neglected me; because she didn’t see it as something wrong she had done.

All the positive and warm feelings I’ve felt from our emotional gift exchange evaporated into thin air just like that—as if it never occurred. I tried to remain as calm and irrational as possible. I reasoned with myself that perhaps, there was a reason why she revealed that particular piece of information. Maybe it was an accident.

I wanted to believe it was an accident. But despite how much I didn’t know about my birth giver, one thing I could say for certain was that she never did things without any intentions. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

“And what made you think it was a good idea to tell them my business?” I said with a scoff.

“Honey–” my dad started to say.

“Sis–”

My mother furrowed her brows and put her wine glass back onto the table. “I am your mother. I believed it is my business, as well.”

“My mother?” I repeated, flabbergasted. “Then, where were you for the past fifteen years? Not to mention, I haven’t even accepted the offer, yet so why are you spreading fake news?”

The said-woman remained as stoic and expressionless as ever. “My job is relocating me to the UK, as well. I thought this was going to be a good opportunity for us to bond. You’ll be able to save up some money too by staying with us.”

“Us?” I looked at my father whose lips were pursed, then back at her. “What do you mean by us?”

“Your father didn’t tell you?”

“No…” I slowly said. “He said that you had an announcement to make—was that it?”

My mother looked at me straight in the eyes, unwavering, as she said, “No, I’m getting remarried.”

The whole room went silent almost as if someone was afraid of breathing. You could practically hear a pin drop in this room. Though, it seemed like everyone was on their toes because they were afraid of my reaction.

“Excuse me?” I managed to croak out and chuckled sarcastically under my breath. “You’re getting remarried? To whom?”

“A man from work.”

As cut and dried as ever. That was all the explanation she could give me. And it was all that I needed to know from her. From there, I’d concluded that it was just impossible.

Impossible for me to forgive this person and impossible for me to get to know this person better, no matter how much I try. And no matter how much I wanted this, it was useless when the opposite party didn’t want the same things as you did. Here I was foolishly believing that my family could be reunited, or at least peacefully co-existing, but who was I kidding?

Who was I, as a twenty-one-year-old, to actually believe and think that my parents who had been divorced for the past fifteen years would rekindle anything other than a formal relationship. And for the sake of who, exactly?

For my sake?

For Jisung’s?

Who were they kidding?

Who was she kidding?

My feelings were one thing, but did she not take into consideration Jisung’s feelings, at all?

“Jisung…” I took a deep breath. “What about him? Is he going to move with you?”

“Yes, of course, he is.”

I looked over at my right, where Jisung was sitting, an uncomfortable and displeased expression evident on his face. But Jisung was our mother’s baby and he was never one to do anything that could possibly displease her. He tended to bottle up his feelings when it came to her. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he lied and said that he wouldn’t mind moving to another country to live with her and her fiancé.

“This is a joke, right?”

“No, honey, it’s not,” my father said, soothingly. “Your mother-”

I abruptly got up from my seat. “May I be excused?” I didn’t even bother waiting for permission. I then turned to Mark’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Lee, I’m so sorry about tonight, I hope we didn’t ruin anything for you. I’ll take my leave now. Merry Christmas.”

Without even hearing what they had to say, I went up to my room. I didn’t bother hiding my dissatisfaction either as I slammed my door shut. I threw myself onto my bed and buried my face into my pillows, the past conversation taking a bigger toll on me than expected. Not to mention I forgot to bid Mark goodnight.

And I still haven’t explained myself to him.

I had a feeling that nothing good was going to come with my mother visiting us for the first time in fifteen years. My favourite holiday of the year—ruined just like that under a couple of hours. Must be a record, somehow.

I heard a knock on my door and someone entering. I assumed that it must be my father since he always let himself in even before I reply. I felt my bed shift under some new weight. I turned my face, expecting my old man, but it turned out to be Mark who was lying down in the same position as I was, his face facing mine, just close enough that I can feel his breathing.

“M-Mark?” I mumbled, my cheek still squished against my pillow.

“Hiya,” he said softly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in the same tone he used with me. “Y-you’re not mad at me?”

His brows met in the middle and he sighed through his nose. “I was initially mad when I first found out that you got accepted to grad school in the UK and didn’t even bother telling me.”

“In my defense, I still don’t know whether I’m going or not.”

He shot me a glare, which effectively shut me up. But his expression soon softened again. “But judging by the whole fiasco that happened a few minutes ago, I couldn’t be mad at you anymore.”

There always was something comforting about Mark. Something about his innocence, his optimism, his positive outlook in life. Mark would simply be there by my side and I would instantly feel better, no matter what. And it just hit me just how much I was willing to do for him. Anything that I would do for him—nothing could ever make up for how much he had done for me.

“Come here,” he said as he pulled me into a hug.

My arms instantly wrapped around his torso, tightening around it the second I felt my tears were going to fall. Seconds later, Mark’s hand was on my head, patting it as I sobbed into his chest. I hated myself for being this selfish, but on the other hand, I was glad that I had someone to be selfish with. Glad that Mark became this safe space for me to reveal my most vulnerable state and he would still accept me, nonetheless.

“I’m getting makeup and snot on your shirt,” I mumbled after calming down.

Mark’s hand never stopped caressing my head as if he knew what kind of effect it had on me. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember how you cried on me when we first met just because I was nice enough to let you come with me see Santa?”

“Shut up, that was so long ago,” I said, a bit embarrassed. It was a good thing that my face was still buried in his chest or else he would see just how self-conscious and shy I was due to his words.

“Yeah, well, that was probably when I fell in love with you.”

My body instantly froze at his words. I dared to raise my head a little to sneak a small peek at his face, just wondering if he was messing with me or not. He looked down at me with the purest and most sincere expression, but I couldn’t accept it.

“Stop lying, we were just kids,” I said lamely as I pushed myself away from him and sat up, unable to process his words.

“I’m not,” Mark insisted and followed suit. “I probably didn’t realize it until recently that I was in love with you for all these years, but it’s not a lie when I say that I am truly in love with you.” He then pointed his red Christmas card lying on my desk with his chin. “Did you read my card, yet?”

“No, not yet…”

He handed me the card and motioned me to open it. My hands trembled slightly as I opened his card, mentally preparing myself to whatever he had written for me. Mark’s words, as awkward as he was, had always been sincere and from the heart. Whatever he had written down, I knew it would always be the truth.

Merry Christmas!

Here’s to another year of friendship and laughter. I cannot thank you enough for sticking with me for all these years. And I will always thank my lucky stars and my guardian angel for bringing you into my life.

I’ve always thought the idea of soulmates as fiction. Something that only existed in stories and what-not. And after meeting you, I started believing in the existence of soulmates—just not always romantically.

I thought that there were certain people that you will meet in your life who you just connect with, more than anybody else. And you know how you know it isn’t a typical thing because you understand each other perfectly. And this person won’t always be your significant other. It can be your sibling, your parent, your teacher. But I’ve always thought that my soulmate was you.

My best friend.

But then I realized that you weren’t just a best friend to me. I wanted you—us—to be more than that.

Because I need you.

Because you make me laugh more than anyone else, and I know that I’m at my best when I’m with you. And because when you’re gone, nothing feels right until you return

And then, I realized something else:

I trust you.

I admire you.

I want you.

But nothing–

Nothing in this world could change the fact that I love you.

And I hope you know that I love you so much with every ounce of my being.

I hope you realize your own importance, not only to me, but to everyone who has been lucky enough to know you. I hope you remember that no matter what, I’m here for you and I fully intended of saying this for quite some time.

I’m sorry for being so awkward with my words in real life.

But I hope you recognize the fact that I appreciate you and adore you without restraints, and that will never change.

The poet Atticus once written:

Your scars are not your shame he said they are your story, and I love stories.

And I love you.

-Mark

“What the hell, Mark?” I whined as I wiped my tears with my sleeves. “I hate you!”

Mark chuckled awkwardly and swiped his thumb my eye, helping me wipe away my tears. “Really? But I love you, though?”

“Shut up!”

He gave me a small smile and grabbed my hand, effectively sending my heart into a rampage. “Look, I’m not expecting an answer immediately, right away. I mean, with all the things happening around you right now, I don’t think you’re in the right mind to think or ponder about my confession but-”

“I love you too,” I blurted out.

This time, it was Mark’s turn to freeze completely. Though he recovered quicker than I did. “Y-you do?”

“Do I look like I’m mentally stable enough to joke around?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been mentally stable, though?”

I threw a pillow at him which he dodged with expert ease. Our small pillow fight went on for a few other minutes until we were both hit with the realization that we still haven’t discussed where we were supposed to go from now on. Not to mention, if I were to leave for grad school, then we would be in a long-distance relationship from the get-go. Could I really do that to him?

“You’re thinking too much,” Mark said before ruffling my hair.

“Someone has to do the thinking between the two of us.”

Mark didn’t bother refuting. He bit his bottom lip in contemplation before saying to me, in a small, almost defeated voice. “You should go.”

“Go where?”

“To the UK for grad school.”

I scoffed. “And what? Live with Jisung, our mother and her new husband in good old London, while my father’s going to be here alone? Yeah, right.”

I fell back onto my bed whereas Mark remained unmoving next to me. “You’re really going to throw your dreams and aspirations away because of your mother?”

I didn’t like his words, but I couldn’t deny the effect they had on me. I knew that he only had good intentions and that he was looking out for me. But the childish part of me simply didn’t want anything to do with the woman who called herself my mother.

When I refused to meet his eyes and therefore, stopped talking to him. Mark let out a frustrated sigh before getting up from my bed. My eyes widened when he reached my door, his back facing me. “I won’t talk to you until you decide to finally act like an adult.”

And with that said, he simply left.

I buried myself into my pillows again and let out a frustrated shout. Not even a whole hour of declaring our love for each other and we already got ourselves into an argument. All because of my mother.

How annoying.

But Mark was one to always keep his words. If he said he wasn’t going to talk to me, he really wouldn’t—no matter how much it might hurt him to do so. I growled in irritation and flipped onto my back, thinking about his words.

And whether I liked it or not, it was time for me to indeed act like an adult.

I decided to go to school in the UK.

I also refused to live with my mother and her to-be husband. That was simply a recipe for disaster. And I didn’t think she would force me to live with her and a man who was practically a stranger to me.

One of the reasons why I also accepted to go to the UK was because Jisung revealed that he actually wanted to stay here for college instead of moving to the UK. Although our mother was shocked, she wasn’t able to convince him that it wasn’t a good idea. Jisung was slowly growing into an adult and for one, I was glad to see that he was also slowly trying to detach himself emotionally from our mother who was practically going to start a new life without asking for her son’s opinion.

Thus, Jisung was going to stay here and move in with our father.

I could leave the country without any worries about my old man.

It’d been exactly almost a week and a half since Christmas. And I still haven’t talked to Mark yet. He didn’t know about my decision, either. But I didn’t know how to face him properly. Acting like an adult couldn’t possibly be this easy.

But he made it easy for me.

It was only a couple of days before I had to leave for the UK and Mark was outside my house, lying down on the front lawn, making snow angels. I joined him soon after bundling myself up in warm winter clothes and lied down against the snow, as well.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes remained closed as the sunlight hit him perfectly in the face. I shuddered at how cold the snow was making me.

“Isn’t it warm?”

“Sorry?” I said, unsure whether I heard him correctly.

He opened one of his eyes. “Don’t you think that the sun is somehow warmer in the winter?”

“I guess?”

Mark gave me a blinding smile before pulling myself up. “Come on, you’ve got your keys, right?”

“Yes?” I answered as he pulled me towards my car. “Why?”

“I’ve got somewhere I want to bring you.”

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the mall and he led me to–

“Build-a-Bear?” I asked with a small frown. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re getting you my Christmas gift to you.”

“You already got me a Christmas gift, remember?” I reminded him. “The book about childhood emotional neglect?”

Mark grimaced. “What kind of boyfriend would give such a gift to his girlfriend, though?”

I almost choked on nothing when he spilled those words without an ounce of shame. “S-since when are we a couple?”

“Are we not a couple?”

I softened at his question. Although touched with how confident he sounded, I also forgot that he didn’t know that I was going to leave soon.

“You’re overthinking this,” he then said as he interlaced our fingers together. “We are a couple and we will make the long-distance work.”

Without another word, he pulled me inside the shop where we were greeted with another friend of ours, Donghyuck. I remembered him saying that he was in need of a part-time job. I suggested that he should apply at Build-a-Bear because he reminded me of a teddy bear, but I didn’t actually expect him to take on my suggestion.

“Look who do we have here, it’s my favourite couple!”

“Hi, Hyuckie,” I greeted him with a hug.

“So, how can I help you two, today?”

“We want to make a bear for each other,” Mark said without hesitation. “Do you have any that come in a set?”

“As a matter of fact, we do!”

Donghyuck then led us to a table where two bears—one was red and the other caramel brown—was exhibited. I then blurted out without thinking, “I want the brown one.”

Mark laughed at me. “You’re more enthusiastic about this more than I thought you would be.”

“Shut up,” I said as I grabbed the red one—the one that I will be making for Mark—and then gave the brown one to Mark. “You better make him pretty.”

Donghyuck snickered at our interaction before writing down our names on the respective tags before leading us to the stuffing stations. “You two can pick a heart while I stuff your bears.”

I picked the golden yellow one without hesitation. The colour reminded me of Mark because he literally had a heart of gold. Donghyuck lightly scoffed under his breath as he saw right through me, and I stuck out a tongue at him.

“Alright, lovebirds, grab your teddy bears’ hearts and tap, tap, tap on your heart,” our friend instructed us. “Then, I want you to jump up-and-down to give them a heartbeat. Come on, jump, guys! Look alive!”

We both jumped and laughed at how ridiculous we must look, but then realized that this was something completely normal in the store. But maybe Donghyuck was just being more extra than usual.

“Now, I want you both to spin like a princess! Spin, spin, spin! And make sure to rub your hands together to make sure the hearts will be warm!” Donghyuck exclaimed excitedly as he spun around along with us. “And now, close your eyes and make a wish on your heart!”

I closed my eyes and squeezed the little heart as I made a wish upon it. A couple of seconds later, I was done and handed it to Donghyuck so he can insert it into the stuffed bear. Mark finished before I did.

“So, what did you wish for?” he asked.

I bobbed a shoulder. “The same wish I asked Santa to fulfill.”

“Which is?”

I went on my tippy toes before grabbing hold of his collar and pulled him down for a kiss. I could feel Mark’s lips lift up in a smile as his hands snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him I then slowly pulled myself away from him but kept my arms around his neck before pecking him another time on his lips.

“For you to always be the source of my strength and happiness.”

Mark’s cheeks immediately reddened at my remark and started stuttering soon after. “Oh, dude– I mean babe, what the hell?”

I chortled at how cute he sounded and looped our arms together. “Hey, what are we going to do about our tradition?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what if I can’t come back for the holidays next year and we can’t take our annual picture with Santa anymore?” It’s not Christmas until we take our picture with him.”

Mark didn’t seem too bothered by it. “I can always come and visit you, instead.”

“No,” I refused with a small pout. “It’s not the same. We have to take it at our mall.”

Mark pecked my nose, then my cheek, then my eyes, then my forehead, before finally sealing my lips with a kiss. I gave him a small, non-threatening glare when he pulled away. “Not helping.”

He shrugged.

“Either way, it’s always going to be Christmas for me everywhere you go.”

THE END.

#mark romance

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