And There You Were (Markiplier Fanfiction)

~ 3 ~ F o r t u n e

I groggily opened my eyes, my hand tightening around my pocket knife. I looked around, my eyes scanning every inch of the room. Frowning, I sat up.

The first thing I noticed was all the gaming consoles, controllers, computers, and every other valuable was absent from its place.

Mark must have taken them. He must not trust me.

Mutual distrust. Fair enough.

"Ah shoot!" I heard Mark yell from the kitchen.

I turned, looking over at him. He was looking up, where a pancake was plastered to the ceiling. I noticed how he was turned towards me, his eyes more focused.

I guess we both know we could easily hurt eachother.

"How'd you manage to do that?" I asked, not bringing up the fact he was acting cautious. I don't blame him.

Mark's eyes landed on me, then looked at my hand still under the pillow, gripping my knife. He looked back up at me.

"I attempted to flip it. Bad idea," Mark said, putting emphasis on 'bad idea'. His eyes flashed back to my hand under the pillow.

Oh I get it.

"Well maybe you should be more careful with your pancake flipping. I know I am. I'm always careful," I grumbled, dropping my own hint.

He didn't like the idea that I was holding a knife, and I didn't like the idea of being unarmed around a stranger.

"Maybe I trusted myself with the pancake. I felt a little safer," Mark said. I'm guessing he was implying he felt safer without the knife.

"Maybe the pancake doesn't trust you," I say, standing up. I kept my grip on my knife, the blade now in plain sight.

"And I don't trust the pancake," Mark muttered, his eyes locked on the knife.

After a few seconds, we locked eyes.

"Trust has to go both ways," he said calmly, his voice not holding much emotion.

"Then I guess we're both going to have to work on that," I said, my voice dropping to a lower pitch.

My eyes darted to Mark's hand as he set the pan down on the counter and pulled a knife of his own. I immediately tensed, getting a better grip on the knife.

Mark slowly walked out of the kitchen, knife in hand. He stood behind the sofa, me in front.

"Rey... Drop the knife..." He said, his voice growing a bit more demanding.

I kept my ground and stared into his eyes. I have the upper hand. I'm faster. If it came down to it, I could dart out the door, or even jump out the window. I'd probably go for the door, since my backpack was by it.

"Drop yours first," I said louder than normal, gathering up every ounce of confidence I had. Which wasn't much...

I straightened my back, adjusting my grip on the knife again.

Mark did the same. I could see in his eyes he didn't want to attack me.

"How about we both drop the knives... On the count of three," Mark offered, loosening his stance slightly.

I gave a shaky nod.

"One... Two... Three," Mark says.

Neither of us dropped the knives.

"Let's try again," I said firmly. I was actually going to drop the knife. If he didn't drop his, then I was making a break for it. If he didn't drop his knife, he doesn't trust me, and he has no interest in trusting me.