accipe me | Yumark

τρία

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Yuta's sat cross-legged on his sofa, holding his steaming takeaway in one hand, chopsticks in the other, mouth full of noodles, and eyes narrowed suspiciously at the fortune teller.

Mark sat awkwardly on a wooden chair opposite him, a good distance away. His hands were clenched together on his lap, his ankles twisted together and tensing with every tick of a clock somewhere in the flat.

When Yuta swallowed a slow, silent minute later, he said, "Why is your hair brown now?"

"I've dyed it that way."

"And the tattoos?"

"I removed them."

"...And you're telling me, that if I hadn't gotten hungry, you'd be dead?"

Mark nodded.

"I don't believe you."

Of course he didn't. "What is there to not believe?! It's on the news-- dude, we are literally watching the news right now! I was right--" he jumped up from his seat and kneeled in front of the muted television. His finger tapped to an empty spot on the pavement just beside the road. "--there. I was five seconds away from being obliterated, and you're telling me I'm lying?"

Yuta shrugged with a dumb smile on his face. "All I'm saying is that I'm having a hard time believing this whole palm reading bullcrap."

Mark's breathing was still shaky. He tried to calm himself for a few seconds by holding his breath. "So why did you come see me? So I could tell you what you wanted to hear? No, sorry. Not happening. Now let me see your hands again."

Yuta swallowed a prawn. His tongue picked at his teeth whilst he pushed his chin into his neck incredulously. "What the fuck for?!"

"I don't know! To see if my death date is on there or something!"

Yuta gave in after a moment of consideration. What harm could having another look do? Besides, the second he asked for money or anything that hinted towards a scam, he'd shut him down straight away. Mark carefully sat beside him and picked up his hand. His index finger traced the lines as he closed his eyes.

A minute passed, and Mark suddenly said, "Here." His eyes shot open. He pointed to a line and stared up at Yuta intently.

Yuta blanked. "That's from carrying shopping bags."

"Yeah, only you live alone."

His jaw dropped. "Um, fuck you too?"

Realisation set in, and Mark panicked. "No, no, I wasn't being rude! Like, I meant, like, you live alone, so you don't buy much, so your shopping bags haven't been heavy enough to make this groove, so why is that line there? I wasn't being rude, I swear."

"It fucking seemed like it."

Mark scrunched his nose at that. "Well, I'm sorry... This line just confuses me though, because even if you did get this line from holding bags, it wouldn't be so short and curved. It should be longer and straighter, but this? Odd."

Yuta nodded and picked up his phone. He typed in his password, one-handedly with ease, and opened Google. "So let's see what that means."

Mark clicked his tongue, his eyebrow raised. "Online divination? Bullshit. Those Texans don't know what they're on about. They 'read palms' for money, not for helping others." He scoffed. "Anyway, I do it right. They're all like, This line shows how many kids you'll have! This one says how long you live! Oh, what's this? You'll encounter wealth at forty? Are they right? Absolutely not." he mocked, putting on a high voice that was borderline whiny teenage drama queen.