The Last Time We Met [Markiplier x Natewantstobattle]

Part 4: The Jealousy and First

Nate's POV

After Mark's suggestion, I grabbed some cash and said, "Looks like we're going to the store then, cause my electric's missing a string." I then stood and went to grab my shoes and keys. Mark stood awkwardly at the door. "I-­i'm coming with you?" he asked, looking at the floor. I sighed, walking over to take his hands. "Of course. No way that I'm leaving you alone yet." He squeezed my hands in response and put on his own sneakers.

I drove us downtown, glancing at him at every red light and stop sign. He watched the buildings pass us, and though he lived here as well, his face had an expression of awe. "Do you ever go downtown?" I asked, pushing my glasses up to look at him better. Despite the warm weather, he wore a long sleeved red flannel and blue jeans.

"Not in a long time," he responded, tugging at his shirt. "I've only gone to the store for the last few months. You know, food and necessities. I pay the bills with my phone."

"How'd you pay them? Did you get a job?" I couldn't help feeling nosey, I was curious. Mark looked uncomfortable admitting that his older brother had helped him a lot, along with unemployment checks. He then quickly changed the subject as I parked the car in front of "Oregon's Famous Music Store".

"We're in LA," he noted as we stepped out.

"I think the store originated in Oregon."

"If they were trying to make a pun, it didn't work," Mark said, and I laughed. "You're right, it kinda sucks. Plus, if it really was 'famous', wouldn't you have heard of it?" He shrugged, and we both laughed sucks went inside.

The store itself wasn't too bad. The products were good, and at a reasonable price. I started off towards the guitars while Mark glanced around, strolling through. I sorta lost track of where he was as I searched for a proper string for my electric. There were tons here, and I didn't want to spend fifteen on the wrong set.

"Excuse me," a girl's voice said, and I turned. She was shorter than me, maybe sixteen at the most, with dyed hair that was a mixture of blue, green, and purple. She had a backpack on, seeming like she just left school. I gave her a small grin, and turned. "Yes?"

"Are you Nathan.. umm, Natewantstobattle?" She smiled back, and I nodded. "My boyfriend loves your music! He'd die if he knew I ran into you. Do you mind..?" She held up a notebook, her grin turning sheepish. "Not at all," I said, taking it from her and flipping to a blank page. "What's his name?"

"Samuel." I scrawled down a quick message before signing at the end. "Here you go," I gave her a grin handing it back, and she thanked me a thousand something times before rushing across the store. I chuckled before focusing on the racks of strings in front of me again, only for another couple groups of girls to come up, asking me the same. I said "not at all" to each of them, signing notebooks and taking selfies. My wrist was sore by the time I finally found the right strings.

I glanced across the store to see Mark leaned against a wall, a pair of headphones on, listening to a demo of whatever was popular. I grinned, and walked over with my purchase. "We can go no-­" I stopped, nearly dropping my bag. A thin line streaked Mark's cheek, and he didn't even attempt to wipe at the tears. The expression on his face tore at my heart like claws. "Mark, what's wrong?" I reached out to touch his arm, but he jerked it away and yanked the headphones off.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, as he shrugged his jacket back on. "No, I did," he said dryly, the hurt in his voice made my chest ache all over again. "I thought I was good enough for a celebrity."

Mark's POV

Nate was silent, trying to understand what I meant. Then, his expression softened like ice cream in the sunlight. "Mark, don't say that." He tried to touch my arm again, but I pulled away. I had seen the way those girls gushed over him, and it hit me too close to home. Since yesterday, when he pulled me out of that cramped room, told me that he was going to fix me, I felt so close to him. He felt safe. He became my hero.

But now, seeing everyone recongizing him here, he became a public attraction. Not just mine anymore.

I began to walk back to his car, and when Nate caught up, I told him, "Just drive back, I'll get my shit. You don't have to be responsible for me anymo­-" I stopped when he shoved me against the car's side, hands on either side of my torso. Despite my hieght on him, he was eye to eye with me. "Don't talk like that. What happened in there, that's rare. And you aren't leaving-­"

Something snapped inside of me. "You're supposed to be protecting me! Not making me hurt like this!" I shouted before I had the chance to put up my filter. I surprised us both, with the addition of the pair of women walking their dogs past us. I dropped, hitting the cement before the tears could even form in my eyes. I covered them, shaking. Hurt made my stomach churn, and I couldn't face him.

"I'm sorry!" I gasped out. After what I said, Nate would think I was some childish man with a crush on him, one that ripped at my heart when he smiled at me. I hated it, seeing how weak I became around him.He made me calm, not afraid. But now, after how I yelled at him, he was going to hate me. He'd make me leave and I wouldn't have my tether on reality, and one of these days, I wouldn't wake up wake from one of those nightmares...

"Oh Mark," is all he said. He didn't get angry, instead he wrapped me up in his arms and hugged me against his chest. I choked back a sob, and buried my face into his hair. How could he be so forgiving when I was such a dick to him? I continued to say "I'm sorry" as he helped me up and into the privacy of the car. "Mark," he said calmly, running a hand through my hair soothingly. "Shush, please..."

"I shouldn't be getting upset over this," I groaned, wiping at my eyes. "It's not like you belong to me, you should be allowed to do whatever the hell you want. It's your life..." His hand slid down my face and tipped my chin up, making my eyes lock onto his. They were warm and caring, and his hand was soft against my stubbly chin. "God damnit, Nate," I whispered, leaning closer to his face. "Please don't hate me for this."

His lips were as warm as his eyes, and his hands were soft against the back of my neck as he pulled us closer. I was weak, and he was my anchor on reality. Time was lost on me, and all I could focus on was the way he felt against me. He was the one to break the kiss, but I clung to him. My mouth moved down to his neck, leaving tiny kisses along his skin. I didn't stop until his hand gently pushed my head back, and I moved away obidently.

There was silence for a heartbeat, then he chuckled. My heart fell at that, was he laughing at me? But, the smile that lingered was kind, and I sighed. "I'm sorry, Nate," I mumbled, only for him to cup my face in his hands and bring our lips back together. When we parted, he spoke after another moment. "I don't believe it."

"What?" I croaked nervously. He smiled so sweetly, it felt like pure sugar, and all I wanted to do was curl up in his arms. His response sent my heart into flutters, which felt much nicer than it hammering against my ribs. "I can't believe I waited until now to kiss you."