His Bright Eyes (Septiplier)

The Pain Inside ?

-Mark's POV-

"Excuse me," I said softly. The woman at the counter raised up a painted red fingernailed index finger in the classic "one moment" gesture, her dark blue eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her.

I sighed, and nodded. I glanced at my phone very aware of the fact that I had been standing here and waiting for over five minutes.

"Sorry about the wait," she said finally looking up and smiling at me, her English accent made my heart skip a beat. It reminded me that I was really that much closer to Jack. "How may I help you?"

"I need to get to this address," I said, handing her a piece of paper. She looked at it quickly, and smiling again handed it back to me.

"From the airport you can either take the tram or the Underground, love. Unless you are in a hurry?"

I nodded that I was. I had called Jack last night to tell him when I would be landing, and something seemed wrong.

"Then the best way would be by taxi," she said brightly. "You are able to get a taxi by heading straight down this corridor and then making a left through the sliding doors."

I thanked her, and grabbing my rolling suitcase and carry on bags, I headed down the corridor. People zipped along on both sides of me, some looking haggard checking their phones and watches. Others, I assumed who were tourists, stopping every few feet to look around and point here and there.

Making the turn to the left, I saw the taxi stand, and hopped into the first one in line. The driver nodded politely, and after giving him the address, we were on the way.

The day was sunny and bright, which the driver, named David, said was "bloody amazing" considering the time of year. We chatted about some sites that were good to visit on my first time here. I texted Jack a few times, letting him know that I was in town and when I should be at his house.

When we got to the house, Dave helped me get my bags out of the trunk, and gave me a hearty handshake after I paid him. I walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. The door opened after a few moments, and he was there.

His face looked almost relieved to see me. He was wearing a dark grey shirt and dark blue jeans. His glasses on top of his head, and his hair...

"You colored your hair back!" I said, slightly startled.

He grinned, and placing his glasses back on his nose, ran his pale and slender fingers through his newly dark brown locks. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "Thought that a change was needed. I'm a coffee bean again."

"I like it," I said finally, "I'll miss the green, but your natural color really brings out the color of your eyes."

He smiled again, and opened the door wider to let me in, helping me with my bags and placing them in the living room area.

He was being so quiet.

"Your house is really nice," I said trying to make some sort of conversation. He nodded and said thank you.

Silence again.

It was odd. Like we hadn't seen each other for two years, not two weeks. He usually was so chatty and affectionate. Not a hug or kiss at all. We barely were even talking at all.

"I'll take your bags to the bedroom, then?" he asked.

"Uh, yes. Ok."

He grabbed my rolling bag and I picked up the rest, and we silently down the hallway to his bedroom. He placed my bags near the closet, and my body lurched slightly at the the way his jeans wrapped around his hips so tightly when he had bent down with my luggage.