ɴᴄᴛ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛs/ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs | ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ sʜɪᴘs

ᴘᴇᴇᴋ-ᴀ-ʙᴏᴏ

Forgot to post this on here...

MarkHyuck

 —

Mark slumped back in his chair, humming in boredom and he wondered what went wrong in his life (to be honest this life was just wrong), that he ended up working at a pizza place that for some weird reason, had a 24/7 delivery service. Maybe it was when his mum barged into his room on a normal Friday afternoon, holding a bin bag in her hands, and threatening to throw away his manga collection if he didn't find himself a job by the end of the day (she would never, because even she loved those books, but still used Mark’s panic to her advantage).

It had been a good year since Mark had joined, yet half of his memory surrounding the pizza place was gone. He guessed it might've been be sure if 

“Pick up the phone Markie!” Lucas called from across the kitchen, waving his hands around frantically and snapping Mark out of his thoughts, bringing him back into reality (not that he wanted to be back), in which the sound of the phone echoed in the empty pizza shop. Internally groaning, Mark reached forwards, hoping that the who called would offer to come and pick up the pizza, rather than get home delivery, because Mark was exhausted and all he really wanted to do was go home and sleep for the two hours he would get before he would have to go university.

“Hello?” The caller said, their voice was soft and so familiar and Mark couldn't help but stop breathing for a few moments. The caller, obviously confused by the silence, began to question if they called the right place, their tone already turning into one filled with embarrassment.

“No no!”  Mark hurriedly said, finally finding his voice, and although it came out high pitched (to which Lucas let out a loud snort), he continued, “You called the right place. I'm sorry, what would you like to order?”

“Ah, thank goodness.” The boy replied, letting out a sigh of relief, and honestly Mark was already amazed by whoever this was, just because of their soothing voice. He recited his order, and Mark quickly wrote it down on a piece of paper, nodding along and humming a few times when the boy asked if that was alright. “You guys do delivery, right?”

“Yup!” The enthusiasm in Mark’s voice surprised himself, and Lucas, but he didn't pay much attention to it, but instead just quickly noted down the address, a house in an area of town which he never came across, before hurrying to prepare the pizza.

“Should I go?” Lucas offered, raising his head in front of the counter and tilting it to catch a better view of Mark, who ran across the kitchen, mixing the ingredients in a hurry. A panicked ‘no’ escaped Mark's mouth, and Lucas couldn't help but laugh at this. He nodded before turning away, letting the other get on with whatever he was doing.

The pizza was made quite quickly, and Mark stuffed it into the back of his motorbike, ignoring the strange looks Lucas was giving him from through the windows. There was a weird sense of excitement in Mark, something unexplainable, and he hadn't experienced anything like this before. Throwing a leg over the bike, Mark settled down, removing his cap and strapping the helmet around his face. The longer he took, the more the unsettling feeling in his stomach spread. He had to hurry. He just had to.

Wind rushed into his face as Mark drove down the roads, the helmet clearly not doing much to stop the disturbance, but Mark couldn't care less about that, all he could think about was that voice, that person, that address.