NEIGHBOR: MARK LEE

04 | ordered food

SOHEE

"thank you, have a nice night." mark politely waved his hand at the pizza delivery, before closing the door and turning around.

he walked towards the living room, where i was and placed the pizza box on the small table that was in front of the couches. he sat beside me, and let out a small sigh.

"sorry i couldn't make you proper food." he apologized, avoiding eye contact with me by scratching his hair, and letting his head hang down.

"it's fine, it's totally fine. pizza is okay for me, i like them." i giggled, opening the box, and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza.

"r-really?" he stuttered, a small smile started forming on his lips. i chewed on my food, and hummed while nodding my head.

he smiled, turning on the tv and a movie called; hunger games was played. "we can talk, while eating, while watching." he said.

"okay then mark." i said, looking at him. "why'd you move here? i mean like it is quite a small town you chose to move in." i asked curiously.

"oh...um." he gulped. "back where i lived before, i had a lot of problems and regrets i wanted to started over." he said, and his answer sounded pretty private and deep, so i sat there chewed while nodding my head. nervous that he might didn't like the fact that i asked him.

"oh, well in this town you could start a new one. i am sure you will get away with those problems, and regret." i said, unsurely placing a hand on his shoulder.

"t-thanks." he stuttered, looked at my hand that was placed on him. i blushed and thought of that he might got a bit uncomfortable with it, so i quickly pulled my hand away from him and continued to eat pizza.

we silently watched hunger games, and chewed on our food, there was silence but then broke it with a question.

"if you were in hunger games, do you think you would survive or easily die?" he randomly asked, without looking away from the screen.

i chuckled. "i would probably easily die, because i am not a good fighter and i dumb." i laughed at my own words, and heard his laughs mixed with mine.

"what about you?"

"me?" he asked nervously. "well, i wouldn't say i am the winner, but i am okay with surviving. im a good fighter." he said, blushed and got shy after he said the words good fighter.

good fighter. mark lee, a good fighter?

i stared at his unhealed wound, on his lips, and cheeks. a good fighter, maybe he is a fighter. like a fighter. you never know which one he is, the good one, or the bad one? i am dying to know, but we just met so i wouldn't just attack him with a question about his wound.

note; skkrt skirt.