Mars

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊

everything reminded francis of you.

from the smell of flowers on the side of the road to the feeling of a comfortable blanket, he was always thinking about you.

while he was away at marlin academy, he missed you dearly. almost every song that came on the radio reminded him of you.

he would keep note of the songs he liked the most—songs that he would later burn onto cds to give to you.

before he came home one weekend in october, he gave you a call.

he asked you to do him a favor: write down four songs that either made you think of him or were your favorite songs, and he would make one collective mixtape for the two of you. 

you eagerly gathered a list of songs that fit his criteria, and when francis finally came home, you gave it to him. 

“thanks, babe,” he said with a smile before kissing you on the cheek. he handed the list back to you. “but i want it to be a secret, we’re doing this together.”

you rolled your eyes. 

“then why even ask me to make a list?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“to streamline the process. if i asked you to pick on the spot, it’ll never get finished,” he answered, leading you to the computer. 

he was right—you were indecisive when it came to music. if it were up to you, you would add every song under the sun. 

the next few hours were spent in each other's arms as you two worked to burn the songs onto the blank cds that francis had lying around.

you two alternated between your songs and his. francis closed his eyes when it was your turn to add songs and vice versa. 

you sat atop his lap, and he kept one arm around you to keep you secure as you both worked. he absentmindedly placed kisses on your neck at random intervals. 

when the mixtape was finally finished, he was quick to steal malcolm’s cd player and earbuds. you two rushed out before any of his brothers could catch you and ask to tag along, and francis drove you to the park on the edge of town. 

of course, you both sat on one of the benches, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. you had one earbud in your left ear and francis had the other one in his right ear.

his hand intertwined gently with yours, the other one setting up the cd player. 

“okay, let's see how this sounds,” he said nervously. he wasn’t entirely sure if he did it right, and he was anxious that this whole thing was going to blow up in his face. 

again, everything reminded francis of you. he kept a piece of you with him always. whether that was a picture of you in his wallet or a bracelet you made him around his wrist—he took any opportunity he could to talk about you. 

he realized he had so many parts of you with him, but not your music. francis wanted that to change. he wanted to brag to the other cadets about the songs that made you think of him. 

the soothing voice of fiona apple started playing through the earbuds. you gasped. 

“i love this song,” you exclaimed. francis laughed softly. 

“of course you do, i asked you to add songs you liked,” he replied. you sang along softly, ignoring francis’ comment. 

“i know i’m a mess that he don’t wanna clean up," you hummed along. francis squeezed your hand. 

“i’ll clean up whatever mess, as long as it’s you,” he said. you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully.

“this isn’t one of the songs that reminds me of you by the way,” you said. “i just like it.”

just as the song ended, the sharp contrast of all the small things rushed through your ears. 

“see,” francis said. “this song makes me think of you.”

your cheeks flushed red. 

“i like this song too,” you argued. “you just got to it first.”

in all honesty, francis was the one who introduced you to blink-182. he laughed at your attempts to hijack his song. again, your songs contrasted with francis’ like black and white. the calm but sultry ballad from mariah carey played through the earbuds. 

you smirked and bit your lip, eyes lighting up with mischief. 

“this song is dedicated to you,” you teased, rubbing soft circles on francis’ hand. now, his cheeks were red.

“don’t do this to me,” he groaned softly. 

“i’d risk my life to feel your body next to mine,” you sang along dramatically, your laughter almost interrupting your performance. 

“stop,” francis laughed. “how am i supposed to brag to the other cadets about this?”

“tell them you treat me oh so well,” you said. he shook his head gently, a smirk on his face. 

“what am i gonna do with you,” he joked. the song came to a close, and the opening riff to everlong started playing. 

“i love this song,” you both said at the same time. you both turned, meeting the other’s gaze. 

“jinx!” you exclaimed. francis was too slow to say it. he was completely distracted by your eyes. 

he rolled his eyes and planted a quick peck on your lips. you both bopped your heads to the grunge love song, singing along without a care in the world. 

sure, there were other people at the park, and they definitely gave you and francis weird looks, but you both didn’t even notice.

none of that mattered because you were the only two people in the world—at least in your minds.

when the soft strum of iris rang through your ears, you both continued your own little karaoke session. 

“you’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be,” you both sang, smiles adorning your faces.

you made sure that you added this song, it was yours and francis’ song after all. it was the song that played quietly over the radio when he kissed you for the first time. 

and just like that first time, during the final chorus, francis leaned in and kissed you gently.

you melted into the kiss. his hands rested on both sides of your face, and yours were placed on the back of his head, playing with the curls at his nape. 

you were interrupted by an angry mom—or just some grumpy lady with a toddler in a stroller—yelling at you for being inappropriate in front of children. you started to apologize, but francis cut you off. 

“maybe you wouldn’t be so upset if your husband, if you even have one, kissed you the same way i kiss my girlfriend,” he argued back to her. you grimaced, cheeks turning red from embarrassment. the lady gave you two some unpleasant words before storming away. 

just as she left, the beginning of wonderwall started playing. 

“oh my god, francis,” you winced, placing your face in your hands. his mood instantly shifted as he laughed at your groans. you used to love this song, then francis learned how to play it on his guitar. 

it was all he played for months. 

“hey! i love this song!” he exclaimed through snickers.

just as you did earlier with my all, francis theatrically sang along to the lyrics. he pretended to hold a microphone and pointed to you at various moments throughout the song. 

you couldn’t help but smile at the way francis pointedly sang the chorus to you. as the song closed out, he sighed. 

“i should’ve brought home my guitar,” he hummed. you playfully pushed at his chest. 

“i’m glad you didn’t,” you joked. you liked when francis played, he just loved to annoy you.

the familiar sound of tonight, tonight played through your ears as francis pulled you into a hug. you both listened in a calm silence as you watched the kids play around on the playground in front of you. 

the chill of the autumn wind blew over you both, and you shivered. francis, without saying a word, shrugged off his hoodie and placed it over you. he rested his arm on the back of the bench behind you, and you scooted a little bit closer to him. 

the end of tonight, tonight dwindled into the soft guitar strums of fade into you, and you looked up at francis. 

“francis,” you called softly. he hummed, looking down to meet your gaze. 

“did you add this song?” you asked, already knowing the answer. he nodded. 

“well, yeah? it’s not like you added it, silly,” he answered. you nuzzled your head into his shoulder, and he moved his arm to hold you closer. he rubbed his hand calmly up and down your arm. 

you sat in a comfortable silence, mazzy star’s delicate voice giving you a real life soundtrack. you both watched a small family—a mom, a dad, and a son—play in the sandpit. the parents looked incredibly happy, clapping whenever the small child did anything. 

“i think that’ll be us one day,” francis said absentmindedly, nodding towards the family. your cheeks went red. of course, you and francis were in it for the long run, but he never really mentioned what he envisioned for your future. 

“not when you’re arguing with random moms about their husbands or lack thereof,” you teased. he chuckled before kissing the top of your head. 

“i love you,” he said quietly. the song fittingly came to a slow end just as the sun was starting to set. you smiled, detaching yourself from his side and standing up. 

“i love you too,” you grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “let’s get out of here. i’m sure malcolm’s pissed that you stole his player.”

francis laughed as he stood, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before leading you back to the car. 

the ride home was filled with random conversations, and as expected, francis’ three brothers bombarded you both when you walked into the house. 

dewey clung to francis’ leg, reese tried pulling dewey off of francis, and malcolm was going on and on about how francis can’t just steal his stuff. 

it was truly chaotic, a complete contradiction from the serenity of the park.

but you wouldn’t have it any other way.