Throughout the entire day, they would constantly share little kisses, or whisper I love you to each other, because to them, it felt like they had to, or the other would just disappear from their life all over again. It wasn't excessive, it was something that they needed.
And, finally, when the day ended and they had found out almost everything about each other, they sat on the couch, her under his arm, and watching some random show on the television.
"Y/n?" His voice made her snap her eyelids open, as she was starting to fall asleep in his comforting little embrace.
"Yeah, Marki?" He smiled at the little name, leaning down and kissing her temple.
"Can I ask you something?" She sat up, her hand on his chest and his arm sliding down to her waist as he moved her to his lap.
"What do you think of yourself? Tell me the truth," she looked down, both of her hands sliding to his stomach.
"I-I don't know," she paused, looking at him with guilt in her eyes. "Not very highly, I guess. No one's ever asked me that question before."
"I'm asking you now," he put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so she was looking him in the eye. "What do you think of yourself?" A little sigh escaped her before she answered.
"I don't like myself too much. There are various little things that I dislike, like my legs and my hands. If you ask me why I couldn't tell you, I just don't." He looked down at her legs, then picked up one of her hands and inspected it a slight bit before looking back up at her with a crooked brow.
"Well, that's too bad. You're perfect in my eyes, and how you don't see yourself as perfect, I guess I'll never know. But I will tell you my favorite things about you," his voice fell to a whisper as he laid her down on the couch, him on top and her on bottom with her legs still around his waist.
"Your eyes are absolutely beautiful, your body is perfect, your hands, oh your hands, they fit so perfectly into mine. And, your legs, I don't see a thing wrong with them. Who you are, what you're made of – it's all perfect. And, all I want from you, in this moment, is to see that; see that everything – every little thing – is so damn perfect."
She couldn't help herself in that moment, as if she would ever be able to help it, and pressed her lips to his with the utmost passion she could ever put into one single kiss. She loved that he made her want to do that, and when he kissed back, she loved him, and herself, just a slight bit more. It wasn't some chaste kiss, either. It was a kiss that came from the heart, that showed everything that she was capable of giving to him, and what she would give to him.
When she crashed their lips together, he felt a different type of sensation. It wasn't like the feeling of fireworks or the feeling that courses through your veins when you first meet the one you're meant to be with. No, it was like a different form of love and happiness.
He finally felt content with what was happening; he didn't want to be anywhere else than where he was – above her, her lips against his, their bodies together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. Her hands were holding his neck, while his were trailing up and down her body, feeling every curve. He loved her, and she loved him.
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The next morning, she found herself in her bed. There was a warmth against her, and a tight grip around her. The memories from the previous day came to her mind, making her snuggle against the man behind her. She could feel his bare chest against her back, as her shirt had hiked up while she was asleep. She then glanced over at the clock sitting on one of the bedside tables, and almost gasped at the time. It was barely seven in the morning, which was an abnormal time for her to get up at.
She didn't know what was so surprising about the time, but there wasn't any way she was going back to sleep now. So, instead of just staring at the wall and thinking, she decided to quietly and slowly sneak out of bed - in an attempt to not wake up the sleeping beast - and go downstairs to the kitchen to make them some breakfast.
Silently, she hissed and cursed the floor for being wooden and the air conditioner for being on and accompanying the floor in making her feet cold. As she stepped out of the room, she turned around and looked at Mark's sleeping frame, seeing a straight line on his face. She presumed that he knew – somehow – that she had gotten out of bed and she wasn't there because she was absolutely sure that before she climbed out of bed, he had a content little smile.
She quickly walked to the carpeted stairs, wanting to feel warmth on her feet once more. Descending the said stairs, she sighed at the sight of the California sun peeking through the window. She had loved what it looked like since she had moved into the apartment, as it always seemed to comfort her and keep her happy. But, now, with Mark in her life, she felt even happier than what the sunrise could do.
Walking into the kitchen, she stood up a slight bit and grabbed the pancake mix. She set everything out but then decided that she didn't want pancakes, and proceeded to put everything back. Going with just a simple coffee, she walked over to the coffee maker and made hers and his, hoping that he would like what she made.
It was a simple regular coffee, with a couple teaspoons of sugar and some French Vanilla creamer. She made a little bit of the same for Mark, but instead of French Vanilla, she went with the creamer Mark had said that he liked the night before. She then walked back up the stairs and into the bedroom they were sharing, seeing that the bed was empty and the bathroom door was closed.
Setting down the coffee for Mark, she went to the bathroom door and lightly knocked, still sipping on hers. "Mhh," he let out what sounded like a whine, confusing her. She twisted the knob, seeing that the door was unlocked, and opened it, seeing Mark standing at the shower and pouting at her. "I forgot how to work the damn shower," she laughed loudly at him, just grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the bathroom.
"Just don't worry about it. Just drink your coffee," she pointed toward the mug sitting on the desk in her room, watching as he excitedly rushed toward it.
"Tank oo," he said, tipping the coffee mug up to where his voice came out like that of a small child. She giggled, nodding slightly and walking back to the bed to sit down and possibly snuggle back up under the covers.
"Imma stay here while you learn to work your shower," she whispered to him, laying down and pressing her head to her pillow. She heard footsteps, then felt a weight in the bed as she bounced for a few seconds.
Mark got under the covers, pulling y/n close and resting his head in the crook of her neck before kissing it. She sighed again and smiled, knowing that she loved him more than her heart could probably handle.
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soulbound ; m.f. | ✔️
FanfictionA simple clock on the wrist decided their fate. Their fate was delicate, and ending up with the perfect person for them was all they'd ever want and need in their life. [ r i p ]
