Pastel Boy

Downhill

(Mark's POV) 

Jack got me the following for Christmas: a mint flower crown, some gold bangles (bracelets), a mint and pink pastel sweater, a new pair of white Vans, a pair of Jordans, some rose gold Beats, a cuddly green blanket, a bottle necklace with a green and pink gem in it, and matching hoodies. The hoodies were these:  

His was the "He's My Prince" one, and I got "I'm his Prince". I loved it. But apparently, he had a secret gift. He made sure his mom was recording. I felt my cheeks heat up as he got on one knee. 

"Mark?" 
"Oh God..." I squealed. 
"Would you," he started, getting a box out. "...promise tuh' be wit' me and make me happy for the years tuh' come?" 
"Oh my God," I smiled, crying. "Of course I will, you Irish doof!" 

I jumped into his arms as he stood up. He hugged me tightly. I pulled back a little and kissed him in front of his entire family. His siblings and older cousins whistled and cheered for us. I could see his dad was pissed off. 
After we stopped, Jack took me upstairs. I told him about how I felt about his dad, and he understood why I was scared. Just then, I heard angry footsteps coming our way. I immediately pushed him behind me, protecting him. Then, his dad burst in. 

"Mark, what're ya-" 
"Move!" his dad yelled at me. 
"Over my dead body," I growled. 

He suddenly hit the shit out of me, knocking me to the floor. I heard Jack's outcry as he was hit several times by his dad. 

"You are a fookin' disappointment," he growled at Jack. "I knew you'd never amount tuh' nothin'!" 

I gathered my strength and pushed him off. That only got me into worse trouble. I was slammed into the wall, feeling my glasses break. Then, his dad pinned my arm behind my back and sent me out into the hall, landing face first. The door was then shut and locked. 

"JACK!!" I shouted, getting his family's attention. 

They raced up the stairs and helped me try and bust open the door. We finally got it opened, but Jack was hurt by then. He had a bunch of bruises.
Once inside the room, I kicked the hell out of his dad, getting him off of Jack. The rest of his family got him out of the room and called the police. I checked on Jack. 

"Jack, are you alright," I asked frantically.
"I'm fine," he began. "Mark, after a while of goin' through it, I don't feel it anymore. But are YOU alright?!" 
"I'll be fine. Just need new glasses now..." 
"I'm sorry..." 
"Don't be. You had no idea that this was gonna happen." 

After his dad was arrested, he told me he felt a large weight get lifted off his back. I felt better, knowing he would be. The rest of our day went fine, thank goodness.
Once I got home, I played my guitar for Jack to hear. He asked me, so... 

"Ya sound really good," he complemented me. 
"Thanks. I started playing guitar back in the fifth grade. So, about when I turned eleven. I've been playing ever since." 
"Who taught ya?" 
"...My dad... That's how he still lives through me... is through my music." 

Jack smiled and pulled me over to him. He kissed me on the head. 

"Merry Christmas, angel," he smiled. 
"You too, Jackaboy," I smiled. 
"What do ya want tuh' do tomorrow?"
"I dunno." 
"Hm... how about a date? You can wear the sweater I got ya." 
"Or our matching hoodies." 
"Yeah, but you look cuter in sweaters, tuh' be honest." 
"Aww..." 

So, we did. I dressed in the mint and pink sweater he got me, my white jeans, mint Vans, the mint flower crown I got from him, and the necklace he got me as well. I also wore a single bangle, then we left. 
He was wearing his usual attire; the jacket I got him, black jeans, his new snapback, and his new My Chemical Romance shirt. 
He took me to this little dessert shop downtown. He got us this box of chocolates, which had this saying on it: "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." Inside, there were several, not saying what they were. Good thing I'm not allergic to anything... 
Jack and I each got one, and they were really good. He told me his was strawberry, and mine was fudge. 

"Hold still," he began, smiling. "Ya have a little on yer face..." 

He got close to my face, making me blush. Suddenly, he licked it off. I squealed, but quiet enough to not disrupt other tables. 

"Jack!" I gasped quietly. 
"Mm... Sweet," he smiled deviously. 
"You sly, Irish bastard." 
"I know..." 

I swear, I love him. He may be a pain in the ass to deal with, but he's MY pain in the ass. I felt so lucky to be his...