happiness / m.f. x a.n.

• epilogue •

Hi beautiful people! This is the official last chapter of this book, and I am proud to say that I enjoyed writing this.

As much as I don't really like it, it was basically my baby. But I think that if I don't end it here, it'll be even worse. I am very sorry for breaking your hearts with this, warning beforehand.

This is probably the bad ending, which y'all will kill me for but oops!

Anyway, enjoy lovelies. 💝

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Third person P.O.V.

In Korea, 9:57 pm. Thursday.

Mark had finally landed, feeling exhausted. He had cried for two days straight, and even on the plane.

He looked at a polaroid picture of Amy and him, clutching it tightly. He had not forgotten her, at all. In fact, she was the only thing on his mind. He couldn't have stayed with her, though. He knew that it was better this way. She'd be happier. She'd move on and find someone new.

Mark shook his head, she'd move on but he'd think about her. Every single day.

He sighed, rubbing his face to get rid of the tiredness. He called his mother, telling her that he had arrived.

He then grabbed a taxi, telling the driver where he wanted to go.

"That's a long way from here, kid." The taxi driver said, Korean accent very thick.

"I have the money."

The driver nodded, beginning to drive.

Mark was looking outside, rethinking everything. Was he supposed to be born? No, he was an accident. His mother had told him that, multiple times.

But, why did he get to live this life while 999.999 other sperms couldn't? They obviously deserved to live more than him. Hell, anyone did.

He didn't notice the tear rolling down his cheek until the taxi driver asked him if he was okay. He wanted to scream, cry, yell, anything, telling him "no". But he didn't.

"I'm okay, just-"

He was cut off by the taxi driver screaming, and his world stopped.

His breathing hitched, slowly becoming erratic.

He watched as the taxi tumbled, almost falling off a cliff. He felt blood trickle down his leg, but his main concern was Amy all this time.

He hoped she was okay, and happy. Because he couldn't be.

He probably never would be.

Because that was his last breath. He just whispered "I love you Amy" and closed his eyes for good.

At Mark's apartment, 12:46 am. Friday.

Amy hadn't stopped wearing Mark's sweater, nor did she move much. She stayed in his bed all day, crying and smelling his scent.

He was wrong, but he had no idea.

Amy needed him, more than ever. No one could reach Amy. She had turned off her phone, just laying in his bed.

God, she missed him so much.

Why did he just leave her? Why couldn't they have talked about it?

Was she not enough? That was it, wasn't it? That must've been it.

Amy sniffed, sitting up. She walked downstairs and hugged Mark's pillow on the way down. She sat down on the couch in the living room and kept the pillow in her arms. She turned on the TV.