since eighth grade. → markiplier

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Date

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Date Night 

I'm going to skip a week. Is that okay? I hope so. :3 Oh, and, the restaurant in this is made up. I didn't steal it from somewhere or anything, haha. 

Mark 

- One Week Later -

I sit nervously on the couch, a sparking urge to just scoop up Ellie and kiss her everywhere beginning to grow into an untamed inferno. I run a hand through my hair, knowing that I had to take it slow. I should take her on a date first - somewhere fancy. I let out a sigh, turning to her whilst biting my lip. Whenever I did that, she blushed. 

"So, I was wondering..." I began, knitting my eyebrows together. "Would you like to go out somewhere? You know, like, on a date?" I ask her, waiting for her reaction. She almost instantly breaks out into a smile, her eyes sparkling.

"Of course I would, Mark!" She says enthusiastically, nodding her head. I let out a breath, feeling as my body had drained of every wave of panic. If I wasn't as happy as I was at that moment, I feel as if I would have been drained of every feeling. I'd be numb. "But, where would we go?" She asks, and I shrug.

"I know a place. Get dressed - and wear something fancy." I tell her, throwing her a grin. She raises an eyebrow, but obliges by getting up and heading to her bedroom. Not before sharing a kiss with me, though. Her lips against mine never fail to send my heartbeat pounding at an impossible pace, my stomach flipping. I let out a breath, pushing myself up off of the couch as I head towards my own room. I stare across at the bed, feeling memories rush to me. Ellie had slept next to me about a week ago, and, even though I had offered, she hadn't found herself doing it again. Does that mean she didn't want to? 

***

I wear a simple white shirt and black pants, trying to look sophisticated but casual at the same time. I brush my fringe out of the way with my hand, styling it a little before leaving it as it is. It isn't too bad. I sigh a little, walking out of my room, being greeted by Elliot. She stands in a black dress, one that stops about mid-thigh, her hair falling over her shoulders in a waterfall of brown curls. She smiles at me, pushing herself off of the wall that she was leaning upon. 

"Are you ready to go?" She asks, resting her hands on my shoulders. I open my mouth to speak, but find myself at loss for words.

"I - uh, yeah," I say, stumbling on my words. Dammit, Mark, tell her how good she looks! "You look really... beautiful, by the way." I tell Elliot, finding that the words fall smoothly out of my mouth. Good. I wasn't awkward about it. Ellie makes me feel nervous sometimes, causing me to become somewhat.... uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable. Just... I don't know how to describe it. She breaks me down, causing me to feel less of a man than I actually am. Under her powerful, intense gaze, I feel as if I could just collapse onto the floor. 

Ellie 

I feel as if my heart was just replaced by something incredibly warm. I reach out for his hand, clasping it in mine for a moment. He leans in for a kiss, but, feeling as bold as I do, I lean backwards and don't even bother to pin down the grin growing on my face. 

"No kisses till afterwards, Mark," I tell him, watching as he retreats from the kiss. Under my breath, I say something else. "I promise that there will be plenty of them." I mutter, turning to him with a smile. He looks taken aback, and I suddenly realize that he must of heard what I said.

"I did hear that, you know." He points out, only confirming my assumptions. I shrug a little, biting on my bottom lip.

"And now you're just going to have to wait." I say, feeling another wicked grin draw on my lips and cheeks.