Runaway (Markiplier X Lindsey Stirling)

The Return

(Lindsey p.o.v.)
I lied on the bed in the guest bedroom. It was dark and I was all alone. I looked at the clock. 12:00 am. Midnight. I flopped back onto my back. I couldn't sleep for some reason. Everyone else was asleep, including Mark. Maybe that was the problem? I don't know. I don't know!
Do I miss him? I remember when I would wake up and see his sleeping face next to me. Sometimes, before he woke up, I would run my hand down his beautiful back or chest, and I could feel his scars from the surgeries. Or I would twirl his hair around my finger. Or sometimes I would just look at him. He was gorgeous. I remember hearing his great laugh, seeing his lovely smile, or feeling his soft hands. I miss it. I miss him.
I tensed up as my eyes went wide when I realized what was wrong.
Oh my gosh...I still love Mark.

It had been another hour. I still hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. I had just been thinking. And in that hour, I had come to terms with it: I miss Mark. I love Mark. I never stopped. But what was I supposed to do? Run back desperately to the man that broke my heart? Should I? Should I wake him up? Go into his room? Should I tell him? Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes.
I got up out of bed and walked out of the room and went to the next door over. His room. I gently and quietly opened the door. I peeked in to see something that shocked me. He was lying on his side, facing away from the door. And he was trembling and shaking as he hugged a pillow. Was he crying? He hadn't seemed to notice me yet. I walked in and shut the door, trying not to make a sound. I walked closer to him and sat on the edge of his bed on the other side. He looked over at me and I saw his face, with tears running down his cheeks. His eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying.
Mark: Lindsey? What're you doing?
Lindsey: I couldn't sleep. I'm guessing you couldn't either.
Mark: No.
Lindsey: What's wrong, Mark?
He sighed as he lied on his back, looking at the ceiling.
Mark: I don't know. It's just...
I moved my hand over his as he looked up at me, a small smile finding it's way onto his face.
Mark: If I'm completely honest, I miss you. But I don't want to miss you.
What is that supposed to mean?
He seemed to notice my confused face as he let out a sigh.
Mark: I know you've moved on, it's just...I'm still trying to. Ugh...I sound so stupid, don't I?
I shook my head.
Lindsey: No, you don't.
I lied down next to him, on top of the covers, also staring at the ceiling. We weren't touching at all, but it already felt better. Then I heard him whisper out.
Mark: I'm sorry.
I looked over at him. He had tears in his eyes.
Lindsey: For what?
I saw a tear run down his cheek.
Mark: For giving up.
I looked back up at the ceiling.
Lindsey: Me too.
That was the last thing I remembered before I finally fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning feeling warmer than usual. Not like a fever kind of warm, but like wrapped up in a really cozy blanket kind of warm. I opened my eyes to see that it was not a blanket wrapped around me at all, but rather the arms of my ex. (Are you happy? You know who you are. :p)
I looked up at his sleeping face that I had missed so much. I missed seeing his beautiful face, feeling his warm breath on my neck, or being wrapped up by his strong arms. I started playing with his fingers. It was funny, sometimes he would react in his sleep and move his hand around while other times he didn't move at all. I continued messing around with his hand until suddenly he grabbed my hand with his, intertwining our fingers. I looked up and saw he was still fast asleep and smiled. But then I looked back down at our hands and saw a mark on his wrist. I moved the blanket back to see one, singular scar. It didn't look recent, but it definitely wasn't there the last time I saw him. I traced it with my finger and gasped. Then I heard him stir a little.
Mark: W-What?
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me before looking at his wrist. He quickly pulled his hand back a bit, hiding it. I looked at him, as he realized what had just happened. Then he looked at me, a mixture of sadness and shame in his eyes.
Lindsey: Is it...what I think it is?
He just looked down, avoiding my gaze, and nodded a little.
Lindsey: Why?
He didn't respond. Instead he just traced it with his fingers until I put two of my fingers under his chin, pulling his head up and making eye contact.
Lindsey: Why?

A/N: I'm sorry. Please don't kill meh. But what do you think of these...developments? Me wanna know! But anyways, until next time...