The Professor's Son

"Those three little words." - Part 29

"What will the lady have to drink?"

"A glass of sparkling water please."

Mark raised his eyebrow in response to your order.

"And for the gentleman?"

"Whiskey on the rocks, actually no. Make it neat." Mark's said in a demanding tone.

"Certainly sir." replied the bartender.

While the bartender opened the bottle of chilled San Pellegrino with a cotton cloth, you watched, fascinated by his swift hand movements, making the simple act of pouring water into a pristine glass cup look like performative art.

You smiled as he laid the drink before you. Thanking him for the drink, you then took a sip and decided sparkling water wasn't for you. It tasted like TV static on the tip of your tongue, tap water was by far the superior option.

By the time you had finished eyeing up the peculiar sparkling water, Mark had already begun drinking his whiskey. The aroma of malt, wood and alcohol swirled forth from the brim of his half-full cup and lingered in the air. The beverage felt mature, far from the type of drink you associated with Mark and his laid-back personality. It felt like he was putting on some kind of act, but at the same time, as you observed Mark downing the whiskey you noticed how natural he looked. You wondered if this was the 'true' Mark you had previously overlooked.

"When did you start drinking whiskey?" you inquired.

"After I returned to Canada."

"Do you normally have it like that?"

"Like what?" Mark replied nonchalantly.

You watched him take a sip and pondered the aftermath; lips, seductively glistening after having been dampened by the whiskey. Mark sucked harshly on his teeth and cleared his throat. You imagined the translucent caramel liquid must have burnt.

"Well, without the water I mean...Isn't it a bit strong on its own?"

"You can taste the broad range of flavours better this way, plus whiskey helps me to think. I can empty my head after taking a sip, it helps me to refocus."

"When has whiskey ever helped anyone to think straight?"

"You would be surprised," Mark smirked. Up until now his eyes had not met yours. You felt a blaze in your heart at the sudden eye-contact, "Drunk confessions are usually everyday secrets people are too afraid to say sober."

You huffed, beguiled by his comment "That may be so, but for me at least, alcohol has never led to anything successful."

Mark took another sip of his whiskey, you weren't sure if the pungent-smell or his gaze over the rim of the cup was making your head spin. While you tried to ignore his piercing gaze by occupying your attention with the overpriced sparkling water, Mark scrutinized your being. He hung on to your every moment, every reaction was a hidden message that he effortlessly decoded. Mark wondered whether you would retaliate or let him read you like he always did.

"What are you thinking about?" you shifted in your seat and finally mustered up the courage to speak, breaking the impregnable silence.

"That the most beautiful woman in the world is sitting right in front of me."

You gasped and suddenly felt your face reddening, "Mark you can't say that."

"But I just did. Liquid courage is an amazing thing." he replied confidently, raising a corner of his mouth into a captivating smirk.

"You've changed, ever since coming back to the city. What happened to you?" you quickly decided to change the topic, feeling Mark's gaze was too intent for your liking.

You hadn't expected Mark to be so forthcoming with his emotions.

He sighed and rubbed his temple with the tips of fingers, you sighed quietly to yourself as he averted his gaze away from your frame and back to the whiskey glass. Relieved that the attention had been drawn away from yourself.

Although you were wearing a thick outer jacket shielding you against the frigid winter weather, you felt naked infront of him, like all your secrets had been laid bare and there was nothing left to reveal. He understood you better than Jaehyun did, because Mark had seen the imperfect side of you, something Jaehyun couldn't fathom. Even after you had rejected him he still remained unwaveringly devoted to you.

Maybe this was Mark's failing?

"My father is bedridden and I've had to take over as the CEO of his entertainment company."

"W-what do you mean?"

"On paper my father is still the CEO, but I'm running everything behind the scenes. He's ill and I'm his only son, he has no one else to care for him. So I had to step in and with the help of his advisors I'm running the business now."

"No wonder you seem so stressed out."

Mark huffed, "You've noticed?"

You responded by nodding your head up and down, giving him a compassionate smile, "Sometimes when I look at you I wonder what happened to the boy that left me all those months ago." you felt your stomach sink as you thought of that fateful night, filled with sorrowful goodbyes that were laced with guilt and shame.

Mark gulped down a hard lump in his throat. His eyes became gloomy and dark with a sense of remorse, "You know I never wanted to leave you." Mark licked his lips, feeling parched despite having already drunk, "If I had it my way, I would never have left. But I had a duty, a responsibility to fulfill my father's wishes. I wanted to be with you and be just like you, studying to my heart's content." he motioned to the bartender, raising the empty glass with a leisurely grip.

The bartender refilled the glass and the young man took another sip before continuing, "Like you said, I have changed a lot. I've had to, the entertainment industry is cut-throat. My feelings are no longer those of a careless university freshman. I had to change my mindset, otherwise the business wouldn't have survived."

"And what are your feelings?"

Mark snapped his head round to focus solely on your face, he stared, unblinking with a stone cold expression. There was no softness, no warmth in his visage, but instead a kind of calculating behind his eyes that you had never witnessed before.

"After all this time, I still..." Mark trailed off, eyes locked on you. He took a sip of the whiskey and swirled it around his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed, he was contemplating the risks and the pros of telling you how he actually felt.

"Just say it. Those three little words." you whispered.

"You already know what I want to say."

"I need to hear it one more time." you felt as if you were dancing with the Devil, unsure if the path you had chosen would lead to reward or catastrophe.

"I think we should book a suite now. Before we both change our minds." Mark suggested.

Persuaded by his words, you paid for the bill in full for the two of you and stood to leave the bar area of the hotel lobby, thus departing for the hotel suite.