Life Support (Septiplier)

Life In A Suitcase

Mark's Point of View

A week had passed and I could feel Jack start to fill with energy once again. Just this morning, I had woken up and stared at him, sleeping soundly with a grin on his face. It felt like everything was going better. When Jack had woken up hours later I had kissed his forehead and slid out from underneath both him and the covers to stand, walking to the closet and grabbing clothes and shower supplies. I heard him jump out of bed behind me and shoot into the closet right as I had shut the door to the bathroom.

Once I had gotten ready for the day, I followed the aroma of coffee down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good morning, honey," he said, turning to face me as I took in the sight of the kitchen and dining room. He had set up plates and silverware and glasses full of orange juice with a rose centerpiece on the dining table, which looked perfectly neat and tidy. When I looked into the kitchen, however, I noticed that there were several dirty dishes from failed attempts at cooking and wrappers from bacon and sausage packages strewn across the counter. There was some spilled milk and a few drops of coffee splattered on the floor and something that I hoped was jelly has somehow made its way to the ceiling.

"Okay, so um......I tried to make breakfast. And it might look like chaos in here, but just.....I mean I got a centerpiece for the table and everything so just.....ignore the kitchen. Focus on the pretty flowers. And uh.....ignore the burned food smell.....I'm pretty sure food just hates me...," Jack rambled on and I started to giggle at the way he avoided eye contact with me because he thought he had messed up my morning by showing so much effort.

"Honey, slow down. It's the thought that counts....really. Did at least some food survive your cooking?," I asked, laughing a little more.

".....we have cereal," Jack says.

"Cereal it is then, babe. I have no problem with that at all," I reassured, hugging him around the waist and kissing his forehead, giggling a little as I did.

"I really just wanted to have a nice breakfast....I mean you've done so much for me....I.....," Jack trailed off, starting to sob a little.

"Alright, that's it," I said, picking Jack up and hoisting him over my shoulder. Jack hadn't combed through his tangle of hair yet, but he was wearing decent clothes and he looked alright, so I checked to make sure the stove was turned off, grabbed our coats along with a blanket and his centerpiece and (despite Jack's protest) I carried him out the door and out onto the street.

People stared at us while we walked along but all I did was smile and nod. When it had gotten a little difficult to continue carrying Jack, I sat him on the ground and handed him his jacket.

"What the hell, Mark?," he asked.

"You said you wanted to have a nice breakfast, so we're gonna go have a nice breakfast," I answered. Jack crossed his arms and pouted. I ran into a restaurant and ordered mine and Jack's favorites to go, overpaying them and telling them to keep the change. Jack dragged his feet behind me as I made my way to the park, spreading the blanket out and setting our breakfast food and Jack's centerpiece down on it. I sat and so did Jack, running his fingers clumsily through his disheveled hair.

"Care for some bacon, my good sir?," I asked. Jack seemed to snap to attention after gazing around the park, seeing just how many people were staring at us. Ireland had to be new to gay people or something, because the looks we got were plentiful. I thought I saw it getting to Jack, but he picked up some bacon and started chewing on it. We ate and conversed about the beauty of the sky, seeing as it was sunny out for once.

"Mark?," Jack asked, still looking up at the white clouds floating across the semi-grey sky.

"Yeah?," I asked, curiously, staring at Jack.