Until I Met You (Markiplier x Reader)

•|Chapter 14|•

Mark's P.O.V *short*

I checked myself in the mirror adjusting my tie and smiling. My hands were trembling, and I deduced it was just because I was nervous. My reflection glared back at me and mimicked the twitchiness of my hands. After fixing my hair a little I stepped out my front door and into the summer night. A few crickets chirped around my ears as I pulled my front door closed and locked it. I felt myself glancing towards (y/n)'s house, but quickly averted my gaze. There was no feeling inside of me, no longing for her. It actually scared me- how I could just up and leave so quickly. I shook off the thought and proceeded to my car.

Your P.O.V

Mom came home around 4 to an emotional mess, me. She sat on my bed like any regular parent should, rubbed my back, wiped my tears. Told me everything wasn't okay, and it's okay not to be okay. Of course, all of this Mark stuff was news to her, as she thought I was still with Spencer.

"If he didn't wait for one week for you, he doesn't deserve you. Patience is a virtue." She said with a smile.

I giggled at her words, as she was the most impatient person I knew.

"I know, I know. It boggles my mind how patient you turned out to be. You must of got it from Grandma, because you didn't get it from me or your father." The way she mentioned my father made her eyes turn stone cold.

He left us when I was a measly seven years old. Brutal, I know. I barely knew what was happening, but I got the gist of it. I've never seen him since. Yet he still has the guts to call me every year on my birthday.

My mom swept away a piece of hair that had found its way in front of my face.

"Whatever you do, don't go back. If he did it once, he'll do it again." She whispered, a slight twinkle returning in her eyes.

I looked up to my Mom for this exact matter. She was a strong woman who wouldn't put up with anything if it was wrong. Ever since I was little, she would talk about her friends that had boyfriends who were abusive. She thought it was ridiculous that they stayed, even if they were "madly" in love. It never happened to either of us, so I guess we don't know how it feels, but I agreed. My views were her views, and I grew up like that. It seemed so obvious to me that if he hurt you like that, he didn't love you. These thoughts buzzed around my head, replacing my thoughts of Mark.
___

I threw another load into the laundry while humming quietly to myself.

"Hey. Dinner's done if you want any." My mom said from the doorway.

"I'm okay. Thanks though." I smiled weakly at her and pulled my running gear from the dryer.

"Going for a run?" She asked

"You know it."

"I'm glad you turn to running."

"Best drug there is." I lightly walked up the stairs to my room and changed.

As per usual, I plugged my headphones into my phone and strapped the holder to my bicep.

"Be back." I called, walking out of the garage door.

"Ok!"

I cranked my volume and decided on taking a slightly different route than normal. It was a breath of fresh air, something new. My body went numb after the first mile, sending me into "mental repair mode." I glanced around at my surroundings drinking everything in. It was a beautiful evening. The sun was still set in the sky, covered by a few clouds here and there. The usual bright yellow of the sun turned into a glowing orange.

I hit the 2 mile marker and turned around to head back to the house. My head felt so much lighter. I was able to focus in on my heart beating and the rhythmic pattern of my feet striking the ground. Before I knew it, I was turning the corner back into the neighborhood. I felt stronger. It's crazy what something like exercise can do for your mental health. My head swiveled to Mark's house. A smile grew on my lips thinking of all the good times we had together. I figured if I thought about this much longer, it'd find a way to tear apart my heart again so I switched my train of thought.

"How was your run?"

"Hm? Oh! It was great!"

"That's great hun." My mom answered, finishing the laundry I had started.

"Mom? How would you feel about me moving out?"

Even I was slightly taken aback by my words. Moving out? When was I even thinking about this? Too late now, let's just roll with it. She paused for a second then continued to slowly fold a sweatshirt of mine.

"If you feel ready and that's what you want." She replied hesitantly.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"No. I'm okay."

"Honest?" I said, sensing her uneasiness

"Well I'd miss you that's for sure, but every kid has got to leave the nest."

"I.. I kinda just convinced myself. I want to live on my own."

"Where were you thinking?"

"California."

"You're insane! No way! I meant; What apartment complex or neighborhood, in Omaha." She restated

"No. I don't want to be cooped up in this small town anymore mom."

She looked at me, hurt filling her eyes.

"No, no! It's not you, it's not your fault!" I said quickly.

She turned and went back to folding.

"If that's what you want."

"Mom. Don't be like that, it-"

"Just like your father." She blurted

Anger built up inside me.

"I'm nothing like him." I spat

"You are just like him." She growled, spinning around to face me in the process.

"There's NOTHING for me here!" I yelled.

"Then LEAVE."

"I-I will." I stuttered

I turned and stomped up the stairs, already beginning to pack my things. Every emotion I had shut off completely at this point. Everything felt numb and unreal. After throwing my whole closet into a large suitcase I sat on my bed and searched job openings and apartments in Los Angeles.