The Little Things [Book 1]

Chapter Three: Save

"Sam, I wouldn't..." Marigold McGregor called, but she wasn't fast enough to stop the girl from opening the door to Mark's bedroom. Mark immediately pulled away, still on his knees, and looked at Sam annoyed, as William started pulling up his pants.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sam asked, unfazed by the scene before her.

"Blowing Will, what do you think you're doing?" Mark snapped back, wiping his lips.

"Mrs. McGregor!" William exclaimed, just now noticing the woman who stood uncomfortably behind Sam. "I should get going. We'll, um... we'll talk later," he quickly said and ran out of the room, leaving behind an exasperated Mark.

"Great. Mom, why are you home already?" Mark asked, still not bothering to stand up.

"I've been home from the past two hours. I just figured that you were here with William and I didn't come up," the woman explained, pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. As Mark nodded with understanding, she smiled and then turned around to leave.

As soon as she was gone, Sam walked inside and closed the door behind herself. Mark watched as his friend got closer to him, still furious, and lowered until she kneeled opposite to him.

"Why didn't you answer any of my calls?" she asked, softer than he thought she would. Mark decided to lower his gaze and he sat back on his heels.

"Today wasn't a good day," he told her and let out a jaded breath. Her response was immediate.

She pulled him in her arms, ignoring the fact that he smelled like sweat and sex and cigarettes. The lace on the back of her shirt scratched his forearms but he didn't ease up his hold on her. He really needed someone to hold him tight enough to put everything back together.

"How many did you have?" she asked softly.

"Just one, but I couldn't ground myself. It lasted over an hour. Sam, I feel empty," he cried into her shoulder.

"What did your doctor say?"

"That everything considered, it's logical. Fuck, I was fine for a whole week! I thought I was getting better! I... I'm fucked up," Mark whimpered, sobbing violently now. Each sound that escaped him broke her heart and Sam hushed him and started running her hand through his hair.

"We all are fucked up, Mark. We all are. It's only been two weeks since the attack. Even your doctor said it. It's logical. You just need to hold on for a little longer. It will get better. You'll see," she said and after a few moments he let go of her. "You sure you don't want a little more?" she asked with a sly smile. Mark laughed and went in for another hug. "Honestly Mark, we've known each other since forever, you don't bother me with all this. You know this right? This doesn't tire me. I'm here for you. You can talk to me. I won't judge you. And I won't let you down, okay?" she said, pushing a black strand of hair behind her ear.

Reaching up, Mark run a finger over her snake bite piercings. Playfully, Sam swatted away his hand.

"What?" he asked her innocently.

"I know what those hands touched and I don't want them anywhere near my mouth," she replied and stood up, only to go and fall onto Mark's desk chair. She swiveled around, looking through the room.

She had been in his room before. Countless times to be exact. But still, every time she came it felt different. Like seasons, his walls always changed. Covered mostly in photographs he had taken, he regularly switched them up, since about every day he took a new, even more beautiful, picture.

"Seriously, though, why William? I mean, yeah he's got money, yeah he's pretty decent-looking, but he's not boyfriend material".

"When exactly did I say that I was looking for a boyfriend?" Mark asked and finally stood up. Sam shrugged.

"Isn't it time for you to settle down with a nice boy?" Sam muttered with a joking tone and opened Mark's laptop to put on a song.

"Babe, you and I don't do nice boys. Asshole magnets simply don't change," Mark replied and started changing clothes.

"You need any help with that?" she asked once she heard him pant.

Turning away from his laptop, she faced him and almost jumped up from the chair at the sight of him. He was leaning against the wall, with his one hand pressing against it, while his other hand was right over the bandages over his ribcage. His expression was one of pure pain and worry shot down Sam's spine.

"Yes, please," he huffed in between pained breaths.

"I swear to God, next time I see him I will..."

"You won't do anything," Mark cut her off as he pushed his head through the shirt Sam was holding up for him. "Sam, please promise me you won't do anything".

"Yeah, yeah, I promise I won't murder, maim or slightly run over with my car the asshole who treated you like a personal punching bag. I don't get you, you know. Ever since the attack all you have done is plot his murder with every gory detail, but the second I want to get some of his STD-riddled blood on my hands, you turn into Mother Teresa on steroids!" Sam yelled out, annoyed and sat down by his laptop again. "I swear if your parents hadn't been so damn persistent about it, you wouldn't have even pressed charges," she added with a huff.

"You're right, I wouldn't have," Mark said back and sat down on his bed in order to take off his jeans. The fact that he had managed to put on skinny jeans while having three broken ribs still surprised him, but he had learned by now not to underestimate his ability to do stupid shit.

"Are you fucking serious?" Sam snapped.

"Yes, I'm fucking serious. Sam, in case you didn't realize what happened, that lawsuit cost my family money, and he got off with fucking community service. You act as if this fucking country cares about people like me. Even the fucking cops that found me spitting blood and crawling on the road judged me for being gay. Even the first therapist that I went to was homophobic. Dying sucks, but at least martyrdom might have changed something".

"Oh please, you can't actually believe that. You dying wouldn't have changed things for the better. Your parents would have been devastated, Reese would have drunk his liver off and I would have... I would have lost my other half," Sam said and stood up again, in order to wrap her arms around Mark once more. "You mean too much to the people around you, so don't even think that giving up your life would make things better. Death only brings pain".

"I'm sorry," Mark whispered in the crook of her neck.

"Don't worry yourself about it, babe," Sam replied and blew a kiss on his cheek. Mark couldn't help but smirk.

"I love you so goddamn much, Sammy".