Relapse (Markiplier)

16: A Date

"Hey, you want to go on a date? If you're feeling well and are up to it." Mark said as soon as I picked up my phone. I smiled, sipping my tea as I put my phone on speaker and set it on the island.

"Good morning to you, too. And yeah, of course. Today seems to be a good day for me not feeling sick. When were you thinking?" I responded.

"Maybe seven-ish today? I know you said your work schedule for uploading and stuff was lighter today. And yeah, good morning. Also, wear something comfortable." I smiled, knowing we were going to start having about four different conversations at once.

"Yeah, 7:06 exactly, sounds like a plan. My last upload goes up at about four today, if it renders on time, so that should be plenty of time. It's also 12:01 now, so it's actually good afternoon, and what if I wear a dress?" I could practically hear him grinning on the other line.

"Then wear a dress, can't say I didn't warn you. I also can say good morning, because in the words of McCree, it's high... Morning... somewhere in the world. Any particular reason you chose 7:06?" He asked.

"You said seven-ish." I replied. "So I picked an 'ish'. Nice Overwatch reference, you nerd." I said, and we both dissolved into laughter.

"Thanks." He paused for a moment, and then said, "So I'll let you go, and I'll see you at seven-ish?"

"Absolutely not," I countered, smiling, "You'll see me at 7:06." I knew he was rolling his eyes.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"Love you too, Markimoo." I said, intentionally rhyming it. We hung up, and I sat staring contentedly at my phone for a few minutes before going back to my room. Approaching my desk, I worked up the nerve to sit down and make an effort to work, and time flew.

*

I opened the door after he had knocked, in a dress.

"In a dress," He pointed out, smiling as he gave me a hug. I smoothed out the white fabric, twirling a little bit and taking note of how we matched; he was dressed rather nicely himself, in a casual-ish white shirt and black slacks.

"As promised." I returned, slipping my converse on at the door. Mark watched amusedly as I laced up the black shoes that complemented my dress and black clutch well.

"Converse with your dress?" He asked, smiling widely. "Is that a vintage Demi Lovato reference?" I laughed aloud as we stepped out and I locked my door.

"It is, as well as a good comfort choice. If I don't have to sacrifice comfort for style, I won't, so this is as good as it can get."

*

"So, where are we going?" I asked. "You never told me, but you mentioned being comfortable, so I don't know what to expect." I looked over at Mark, the sun shining through the open window of the car and outlining his face in a warm glow. His hair, which was growing at an almost alarming rate, was being whipped around by the wind, the black curly tendrils snapping playfully.

"Remember that berry farm we used to go to back home?" He asked, speaking slightly over the wind. I noticed a fond smile had taken over his face. "I found one just like it, and I thought it would be fun if we can go again..."

"Just like old times," I finished for him. "I like it! It's hard to find a farm to your esteemed standards, but it must be good if you're willing to make a whole day out of it," I mentioned, pulling my hair out of my face against the wind. Mark just shrugged, the nostalgic smile replaced with one of mystery.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see, hm?" He asked. I laughed, stretching my arms up in the car and out of the sunroof at the top.

"Of course you have to be all cryptic about it. Fine, be that way!" I teased, stretching my arms further up. I waved my hands around, bending my fingers and feeling the wind rush around them out the sunroof. Mark turned up the music, and we spent the next hour in the car singing along to our favorite songs, bopping our heads and letting our hair go wherever it wanted.

The minute we stepped out of the truck, it was as if my childhood had unearthed itself and smacked me in the face. Even through the whirlwind of the farm owners greeting us and leading us to the public groves, it all felt familiar. I didn't mention it until the farmer and his wife were trotting away, wishing us happy berry-picking.

"This place feels kind of... Unreal," I commented, and Mark looked over at me with a grin. He was hunkered down next to a short bush, picking strawberries gently and placing them in the wicker basket the farmers gave us.

"Doesn't it?" He agreed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Kind of like a slice of home, I thought."

"It does," I agreed, and my voice was carried away by a gentle, sweet breeze. It ruffled the leaves on the berry bushes, whipped Mark's and my hair around, and snapped the fabric of our clothes. It almost demanded quiet, so Mark and I dropped into a peaceful routine. We chatted back and forth, shooting the breeze about life and work and everything other than that. Somehow, it felt both like a 'real date' and not like a date at all. It felt like one because we were both kind of dressed up, and there was this slight nervousness in the air, as if we were dressed to impress. But the atmosphere between us was so calm and relaxed that it felt far too casual to be a date. It felt more like two best friends hanging out, which made sense... Because that's what we were.

"When did it get so late?" Mark asked around a mouthful of berry. Once we'd filled our berry basket, we took off our shoes and ran down into the grassy hills, lying down on the crest of one to watch the sun go down. The wind had died down but it was still sweet, and we were staring up at the stars peeking out from the twilight, taking turns eating from the basket.

"I don't remember," I answered honestly, "Probably sometime between me asking you about your trip to Korea and you asking me about mine to Japan."

"We should go sometime," He said, "Together."

"Where? To Japan or Korea?"

"Both," He decided, and I chuckled.

"When will we have the time to do that?" I asked. Beside me, Mark sat up. He wrapped his arms around he knees, drawing them into his chest.

"Whenever we want," He promised. "We're busy people, but we have all the time in the world." I sat up too, after a moment, tucking my legs under me and fixing my dress. As I was adjusting it, Mark intercepted my hand, wrapping it gently within his own. I smiled down at the ground before looking over at him, only to find that he was already looking at me.

"It's late," I said after another moment of quiet.

"Yeah, we should probably head back." We got up, opting to swing the basket between us as we took it back to the farmhouse. We rejoined hands once we dropped it off and didn't let go until we had to get in the car. Mark opened my door for me, and waited until I was seated before getting in on the driver's side. Despite knowing it was late (as the sky was dark now and the stars were in full bloom), Mark didn't make a move to leave. He put the key in the ignition and started the car, but left the engine running in the background for noise.

"Are we moving too fast?" He asked, breaking the quiet in the car. Mark looked over at me for a split second, then turned his gaze through the windshield. "I don't mean to offend you. I'm just curious."

"In our relationship? Would it bother you if we were?" I asked, and he turned quickly to me.

"Not at all, actually. But... do you think we are?"

"By regular standards, probably," I said. "Does it bother you?"

"Not at all," He said, and it sounded like he meant it.

"Any particular reason you ask?" I wondered aloud.

"I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend earlier," He said slowly, "When we were still out in the field, eating strawberries. But I didn't want to scare you off, didn't know if it would be too soon."

"Mark." I gently put his hand over his, which was resting on the center console. "You couldn't scare me off even if you tried." He stared down at our hands for a moment, then looked up at me.

"Then can I ask you something?" He said quietly.

"Sure."

"Would you be my girlfriend?" He asked, and even though I'd just assured him that I would stay, I still saw fear in his eyes, like I would run out of the car or say no. But of course, I didn't do that. I smiled brightly and said,

"Of course. It would be nothing short of an honor."