The Professor's Son

Back 2 U - Part 30

An open letter :

Dear Reader,

Thank you for your continued support, words of encouragement, amusing comments and love. This year has been a tough one, and I hope that as Christmas approaches, along with the new year, that you have time to unwind and rest from the struggles of life.

When I started this series I remember writing it when I felt at my lowest, it was for me, a 'silly' little fanfic that I would write to mainly entertain myself. I remember getting my first comment earlier on in the year and internally flipping because it was such an awesome new feeling!! People were actually reading my book and they were most importantly, enjoying the story!

Many thanks, once again for nearly 6K reads! I never thought that I would have this many people reading my work. You're the best (amigos/they/them/her/him) - sorry if these aren't your preferred pronouns.

Merry Christmas!

- Cold_Cereal_Water

P.S special shoutout to the song above by SZA and Ty Dolla $ign for inspiring this chapter. Y/N spending time with Mark "Hit's Different" ;)

***

Smoking had been a vice of yours since your early reckless teenage years. Although, at the time the world was collapsing around you after the death of your beloved father, there was always one certainty in life. Inside that little white and burgundy red box, lay friends that you knew and could depend on. They were things you could press against your lips, feel the tips with your finger and smell their earthy aroma, calming you after a particularly bad episode of anxiety or depression.

In the heat of the moment, with Mark finally by your side again and your heart beating at a million miles per minute, you felt yourself craving a cigarette and falling back into your old ways. The addiction had hard-wired your brain to desire these things that would ultimately harm you.

The familiar sound of a lighter flicking made the hair on the nape of your neck stand up.

You held the slender cigarette between your lips and inhaled deeply, the act of inhaling itself more calming than the nicotine rush you received afterwards.

Mark sat beside you on the plush hotel room couch, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you smoked.

After booking the hotel room for two hours from the beady-eyed receptionist in the lobby, you had travelled up the elevator in silence with Mark and entered the room in a similar fashion. There was no need for careless words or pleasantries, but your heart still ached for those three words from Mark. You knew he had loved you since the first day the two of you had met and even though you had rejected him multiple times, and in cruel ways, he was still devoted to you.

"When did you start smoking?" Mark asked, breaking through the stillness of the night.

"When I was about six-teen...Grief is a terrible thing."

Mark watched your lips purse as you took in a drag, and held it deep in your lungs, "Did you lose someone important to you?"

"Yes, he was very important."

"I'm sorry to hear that." you could hear the sincerity in his tone. Mark shifted closer to you and put his arm around your shoulder. His body was warm and easily enveloped yours. You felt safe in his presence, as his muscles tensed and drew you closer beside him.

"So what are we gonna do?" you asked more to yourself than him.

"Whatever you want."

Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you. Is this what you want?