A Difference (Markiplier X Reader)

Chapter 5

You stood in shock. Never before have you gotten so much money for a painting, and that painting wasn't even worth $30. You grabbed the $100 bill in your hand and ran out after him.

"Mark, I can't take this," you panted, you were worn out from running out there to him so quickly.

"Why not?" He asked somewhat confused. "You deserve it for all your efforts you put into it."

"It's not even that good of a painting though..."

"Oh be quiet, (f/n)," he laughed a goofy laugh which made you smile.

"Well then, thanks I guess," you started to walk back so that no one would steal anything.

When you got back you saw (bf/n) standing at the entrance staring at you. He looked angry. He never seemed angry, ever. You wonder what has gotten into him. Even in bad situations he wasn't mad.

"(Bf/n), what's wrong?" You asked. He grabbed you by the arm, pressing his fingers into your skin, and dragged you to the storage closet. He closed the door behind him. "Who was that? Was that the guy someone told me about? What do you think you're doing with him?"

"What are you even talking about?" You started to raise your voice slightly, "He just bought my painting and gave me $100 for it. Jesus! That's all he even did. What's gotten into you, (bf/n)? Why not just talk to him and you'll see, he's a pretty nice person."

Then, he did something you thought you'd never see him do. He raised his hand up and smacked you on the jaw. You held your hand up to your face, shock clouding your senses. Why did he do that? He's never done anything like that.

"See what you made me do?" He shook his head and stomped out the door and out of the main entrance.

You went back, somewhat dazed, to helping your customers.

That night, you felt something in the pocket of your jeans. You pulled out the slip of paper Mark gave to you and decided to show him your art, not caring if (bf/n) got mad about it. You got your phone out and typed his number in, then snapped a picture of your Eiffel Tower painting. You'd probably never get rid of it. You loved it too much.

Hey, Mark, it's (f/n). I'm just sending you some pictures of my art, like you asked me to.

He responded pretty quickly. You didn't read it yet; you were going to send him some more pictures of your paintings. When you decided enough was enough, you read it.

Mark- No way, you did not paint that Eiffel Tower. That is the best so far.

You- Haha, yes I did actually. And thank you, it's my favorite painting. I'd love to go to Paris one day and see it.

After you sent that, you fell asleep on the couch, not realizing how sleepy you were.