What if...? || Markhyuck

-27-

[june - september 2020]

[donghyuck]

Our journey to my home passed in grave silence. Minhyung was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice he hadn't turned on the radio, without which he hardly ever gets in the way. But I didn't pay his attention to it and I didn't change the facts myself as well. If Lee needed silence at the moment, he had the full right to it. The boy's head probably was complete chaos, which he had to sort out himself. I felt that he clearly didn't want my help today, he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to speak.

I saw Zayn's look at Mark. Down and dirty, almost defiantly, as if he expected a wreck of a man to find here. He didn't find the wreck but he was clearly pleased that the black-haired psyche kept a visible trace of their meeting in Edmonton. That he wasn't forgotten.

As soon as he looked at me, I immediately sensed that he was a damn manipulator. A trained sign of false curiosity, sick interest and a raised eyebrow that meant waiting for mimic reciprocity that he didn't see. 

He has met his match. 

Manipulator has met the manipulator. 

With the subtle difference, - I didn't mindlessly hurt people for my own pleasure. I had the impression that to this boy couldn't be shown any emotions that he could interpret in his fashion. The intensity of Zayn's look gave me the illusory impression that he knows me, that he company me and in some way I'm not a stranger to him. It was the look of a man who already had some information about me and now finally got the chance to confront the image created on the basis of heard rumors with the real image. I didn't like this impression because I never felt a victim of surveillance without a reason, my feelings always turned out to have a solid foundation. The probability, however, that Marco gave him any information about us was negligible. So why the thrill of horror associated with a lack of sense of anonymity? These thoughts were in my mind until Mark stopped our exchange of silent interest, covering me up with his body.

We stood at the traffic lights. In the empty street, it seemed even more intense than usual. Minhyung sighed heavily, looking at me uncertainly. He gave me a pale smile, which was supposed to provide us a relative sense of normality and security but in my head it only made things worse. It meant that it wasn't good with Mark. It meant Mark was afraid of something. He sealed my feelings when he put hand lightly on my thigh and clamped his fingers on it, as if to make sure I was still sitting right next to him.

"You missed a turn," I noticed quietly after a few minutes of driving.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he cursed, as if he really cared about it.

"It doesn't matter," I assured him, shrugging.

"We'll go around," he said, as if I was completely unaware of this possibility, although we knew the area just as well. For some reason, however, Minhyung was worried about me and needed assurance that he was in control of the situation and only he knew the correct solution. I decided not to wake him from this illusion.

"Sure," I replied calmly, as if I trusted completely all his decisions. Actually it was often like that, so I didn't fool myself too much. I trusted Minhyung.

"I'll come for you tomorrow morning," he said seriously as we parked outside my house.

"Okay" I nodded, not seeing any point in discussing with him when he was in that mood. The boy gave me an uncertain look, as if he wanted to say something more but he didn't know if he could. "Spit it out," I murmured when, apart from exchanging glances, no words followed. Mark let out the air in his lungs, then leaned forward and put his head on my lap. I frowned in surprise because it wasn't normal behavior on his part. After all, I put my hand on his head and began to lightly brush his black hair. "Whatever bothers you so much, it doesn't matter, Hyungie," I whispered gently, diminutive of his name unconsciously. "Don't get crazy over it, okay?" I asked, resting my forehead on his nape.