that one stained shirt | mark lee ✓

cha-cha slide

The next three days passed in a very comfortable atmosphere. Sarah had visited in a state of absolute misery, because even though she had won the bet about my shot and got her win, Haechan got it too. I asked her to not share the details of their affair, I knew I'd get a glimpse from the man himself once I'd see him.

But Sarah's tragedy wasn't rooted in the fact of their wild animal instincts. Her phone wouldn't stop buzzing with messages.

"I swear, one more and I'm throwing it away!" she cried out and pressed one of my pillows to her face. "I can't with him anymore! He's been asking me out every single day. Well, every five minutes. The only time I managed to study was while they were practicing."

I laughed and advised her to block him, even though my conscience felt bad. He was my friend now too, after all. But she scowled at me and laid down as if it could somehow help her. "I can't do that, Jess. He was too good."

And at that point, I decided not to participate anymore. "Well, then it's on you. Date him or ghost him. You choose."

The next day Mark out of the blue sent me a screenshot from their group chat. Well, it was seven pictures of the boys arguing about which of them was my favorite. Jisung didn't reply once, so I understood it was nothing of a serious note, but at least it was hilarious. To my surprise, the one who started the debate wasn't Haechan. The first message came from Jeno.

Mark then sent me a message of laughing emojis and texted 'Should I tell them who's really your favorite?' I answered with a winky face and encouraged him with 'Sure, superstar, but you'll be dealing with the consequences.'.

Later that day Mark even called me, which was unusual. I picked up immediately and walked out of my bedroom, where books and papers lay scattered all over. How much I dreaded the finals. Mark asked me to visit him during practice the next day. He needed to tell me something in person and we could go grab dinner after they finished, to which I agreed.

"But hope my brain won't be empty from all the literature stuff. I feel like Shakespeare would save my butt now. How could I have ever thought the Renaissance was hard?"

He laughed and I heard a sound of a chair being pulled. "Don't ask me, Jess, I gave up at the Epic of Gilgamesh. But I'm sure you'll be fine; you can use a bit of distraction anyway. See you at three."

"Yeah, see you." And after I hung up, I forced myself back into the pile of sentences and tropes.

☆

I was glad that Mark had asked me to come in the afternoon. I had climbed into bed after midnight, totally exhausted and hungry, and hadn't set an alarm. When I opened my eyes, it was already half past eleven. I made a strong coffee and finished the muffins I had baked the day of Sarah's visit. All I wanted to do was to rest and scroll through Instagram.

But I took a shower, cooked something easy for lunch, and put on some random show on Netflix.

In the blink of an eye, the clock showed already two in the afternoon.

I didn't feel like dressing up, the boys had seen me in all sorts of clothes already, and I had in mind to just take ramen or fried chicken for dinner. No fancy eating. So I put up more sporty clothes - leggings and a loose T-shirt, the one Mark had lent me back at his place, and some sneakers for comfort. I packed a tote bag and headed to the company.

The walk was pleasant, even without the sun shining. The air felt warm against my cheeks and a soft breeze caressed my hair out of my face. Spring was at its peak, and I couldn't wait for summer. The thought of visiting my parents conjured a smile on my face. Finally, after all those years.

When I arrived at SM, Mark was already waiting by the back door. He hugged me around my shoulders and we started the usual way to their practice room. Jisung greeted me in between the doors, as he needed to go to the restroom, but once the rest spotted me, they all fled to say hi.

"I just wanna say one thing," stated Haechan as everyone started to pack up their things. Are they leaving already? I thought they'd still dance for a while. "Your boyfriend doesn't count."

I knew right away what he was referring to and grinned. "Of course he does!"

"Of course he doesn't!" he argued and I folded my arms over my chest.

"Okay, who do you like more, me or Sarah?" Jaemin, Jeno and Chenle erupted in hysterical laughter. Haechan just shot them a glare, but I knew he wouldn't admit the truth. I raised a brow and shrugged. "See?"

He huffed and marched out of the room. "You're a nasty little thing," he called after me from the hallway and I laughed.

"Thanks for the compliment!" I replied and rested my hands on my hips. I watched as the rest of them said their goodbyes and left. Only Jaemin winked at me before closing the door and I chuckled. Then my attention returned to Mark. "We aren't leaving?"

Mark crossed the room and started to search for something on the computer. "No, not yet."

"Why?" I asked and watched myself in the wall mirror. In the reflection, I saw Mark typing on the keyboard.

"Because I still wanna dance. With you."

I froze in an instant. What? "You're kidding, Mark."

But he only smiled and shook his head. "I'm dead serious."

"Well, you will be just dead soon too," I voiced as he took steps towards me. I gulped. In a second, a song started playing. It was quite fast and groovy, something I could rock to. But learning footsteps? Over my dead body.

Mark laughed and took my hands in his own. He started moving his body to the music and pulled mine within, making me follow his lead. He started walking, crossed the floor, and then made me stop and spin underneath his stretched arm. I had to smile because this wasn't how I imagined dancing with someone. Patrick Swayze had me tightly wrapped in Mambo since I was four.

"See? It's not that hard," Mark smiled, and I nodded. He spun me one more time, then lightly pushed my side and I ended up falling backward into his arms. We held eye contact for just a second before Mark left my side to change the song.

I hoped the crimson of my cheeks wasn't so obvious.

"I think we can try something a bit more difficult, hm?" Mark asked from the computer. "Maybe something with a little footwork."

He played one of their songs. I knew it, because even though I would never admit it to him, I had started listening to their albums. To all the units. By no means could I name them or sing the lyrics, but when I heard a certain melody, they rose from the depths of my memory.

I frowned when a familiar sequence hit my ears. "I don't need your love? Really? Are we breaking up?"

Mark nodded his head in appreciation. "Have been taking notes I see." I rolled my eyes while holding back a smile. "And no, you're stuck with me, pretty."

"Shut it," I scoffed and turned back to the mirror. "I didn't know it had choreography."

"Well, it does," he came back to me and stood by my side. "And I'll teach you how to dance."

"Maybe lower your expectations a bit," I put my thumb and index finger almost together to show him how much. "Just a tiny bit."

Mark smiled and looked me in the eyes, his own holding a look of encouragement. "You'll be fine, trust me. Just watch me first and then we'll try together. It's all about enjoying." He hyped me through the reflection. "Come on."

And so for the next two hours, we danced, laughed, fell, screamed, and by the end even threw tissues and clean clothes at each other. My stomach hurt as I was trying to stop wheezing and take a proper breath. I had to lay down to calm down, while Mark sat next to me and complimented me for my hard work. The flattery made me look away and smile.

I concluded that I did indeed enjoy dancing.

At least with Mark.

Cause he was the force that pushed me forward. And I was grateful for him. A lot.