in time.

“Today, I will pick a few poems posted on our class forum and we’ll invite the poet to read it out to the class for workshopping! Yea? Okay, let’s start,” your creative writing professor, Dr. Sung excitedly announced. 

Every other week, Dr. Sung gives a certain theme or genre of Literature and everyone is expected to post their work onto the class forum. In class, he would select as many works as the three hour seminar allowed. 

The chosen work would be read out loud to the class by the writer and then here’s the scariest part. 

Death of the author. 

The chosen student was not allowed to speak, agree or rebut with any feedback for about fifteen minutes. Sometimes it goes on for slightly longer. Only towards the end, the student would share a bit about their piece before Dr. Sung moves onto someone else. 

Of course, ground rules were set from day one. Constructive feedback only. And no hard feelings, this was what a real writer goes through. Every published work would have its fans and people who simply prefer other works. Some feedback are harder to accept than others, but everyone in this class was really professional and nice so it wasn’t as intimidating as you expected it to be. 

This week’s focus was on poetry. To be honest, you struggled with it. Sure, rhyme might be seen as old-fashion now unless you’re writing rap. But poems should still have some rhyme, no? You tried to squeeze something out that had some kind of well-known poetry style. Maybe a Sonnet? Maybe even a Haiku, or the toughest of all (in my humble opinion – tmi i actually died attempting to write one for class LOL), a Sestina. You ended up just going with a free verse, since it flowed out of you the best.

“Let’s see… who wrote “Oath”?” Dr. Sung started and that sent the ball rolling. 

“Oath” was a wonderful poem, it was written by a girl that sat two rows in front of you. You always thought she wrote really beautifully. In the three weeks of class, she got picked all three times and every one of them were good. Even the ones that she didn’t get to workshop in class were good. 

You had a habit of just reading everything on the forum after class each week. Sometimes for some inspiration when you’re stuck or just because you found it so interesting. What someone writes can give you so much more insight to their mind than what they choose to tell you. Not that you spoke to many of your classmates anyways, but you sure enjoy reading their works. It amused you how they were all so good at what they do. 

“Oh this one looks interesting! “My Enemy”, by… y/n is it?” 

You hear your name being called out by Dr. Sung and you freeze for a bit. You were hoping you weren’t going to be picked this week. Your palms immediately turned clammy. 

You timidly raised your hands when Dr. Sung started looking out for your face in the classroom. Upon spotting you, he nods and smiles. “Go on, read for us.” 

You gulp and stare at your laptop screen, taking a deep breath before you start. 

“My Enemy by y/n

everything feels fine

and i grow increasingly uncomfortable 

sadness is my safety net and loneliness

a blanket that provides comfort 

i seem to seek solace and find peace in everything that hurts me

i have an appetite for melancholy 

i am the only person who doesn’t want me to be happy

will anyone help me fight off my own enemy?” 

You dare not look up from your laptop screen, the lump in your throat seemingly getting more uncomfortable. So you take a sip of water and spend your own sweet time closing your water bottle. 

Dr. Sung thanked you for reading and opened the floor for feedback that got your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. This is the part of your creative writing class that you loved and also feared. What would people say? Will they like it? 

And you’re literally silenced because again, “Death of the author”. 

A timid hand popped up and Dr. Sung nodded in the student’s direction. 

“Um… first of all, I like it,” he stops to chuckle and looks towards you, seemingly thinking about how to phrase his thoughts properly. 

When your eyes met, you recognised him as the guitar boy, Mark. You offer him a smile of appreciation for his mini confession. 

“I really like the… third line? ‘sadness is a safety net and loneliness a blanket’, technically, these aren’t very comfortable emotions to have right? So I think your choice to compare them to items or things that provide a sense of security and comfort… yea. I really like the oxymoron nature of this stanza. Oh! And I really like using questions in my poems too, so I just thought that was cool,” Mark stops and gives you a few assuring nods. You nod back at him, acknowledging his feedback as you type some of what he said down. 

Dr. Sung was about to thank Mark before moving on when he chips in again. “Right, one more thing. Sorry prof… I know y/n can’t reply right now because, ‘death of the author’ but I just wanted to ask because this sounds like such a sad poem, um… are you okay?” 

His question causes a couple of hushed chuckles and laughter from a few students, yourself included. Dr. Sung thanks him and moves onto the next student who has his hand raised. The fifteen minutes run by rather quickly for you this time and you’re busy typing away the feedback that stood out to you. 

“Okay y/n, take us away. Talk about your poem a little bit,” Dr. Sung said as he walked closer to where you’re seated. 

You cleared your throat before you started. 

“Well, I wrote this a while ago. You know, it was just one of those nights where my thoughts were a little heavy. But I would say it’s a little exaggerated. I wasn’t that sad. But of course, there were times in my life where it does feel like my mind is my biggest enemy. And I think I’m not the only one who feels this way.” You said and looked at Dr. Sung who nodded. 

“So the question at the end? Was it a deliberate choice? I mean you chose to include a question right?” Dr. Sung probed. 

You smacked your lips together in thought, “Yea, I guess it’s rather rhetorical? When you’re in a battle with your own mind. Aren’t you the only one who can save yourself? Even if people come to your rescue, it’s still your choice to step out of this hard place.” 

“Wonderful. Okay, now you can answer Mark’s question. Are you okay? He wants to know,” Dr. Sung reiterated Mark’s prior question, eliciting laughter from the class again. 

You chuckle before nodding, “Yes, I’m okay. Things aren’t terrible, so I’m grateful, really.” 

You and Mark lock eyes for the third time that day and his smile seems to awaken a butterfly or two in your tummy. So you quickly look away, trying to tame the butterflies that fluttered deep within you. 

“Thank y/n for sharing such a raw piece with us! Mark, let’s hear from you next,” Dr. Sung said as he went to his desktop in front of class to pull up Mark’s poem on the class forum to display it. 

Mark flips open his notebook, one with tabs and scribbles on almost every page. He pushes his glasses up before he begins reading. 

“Late night scribbling by Mark Lee

Good night 

To me, these two words feel like the vast sky

Darkness, but not hollow 

Black but not bitter 

Far but close enough to wonder 

Is it reachable?

Can feelings get so real, that they become tangible? 

A spacious bed for me and my thoughts to sleep in 

Head above pillow and a question above my head 

Insomnia feel like drought because all I do is look up, thinking 

Will it ever, ever come?” 

“Okay, anyone! Anyone at all, GO!” Dr. Sung exclaimed excitedly as he urged for feedback. Dr. Sung is quite an eccentric professor. He always has so much energy and is literally bouncing around for the three hours you’re in class with him. 

Someone starts by mentioning his title and the way it’s striked through. Others commented on his effective use of questions. That despite them being rhetorical questions, it invites readers to ponder about those questions. 

“I like it but thanks to you, I might be thinking about these questions instead of sleeping tonight. So thanks Mark,” one of your classmates, Renjun, said and caused the class to laugh. Mark and Dr. Sung included. 

Dr. Sung asks the class for any last feedback and you bite your tongue. Instead, you busy yourself with typing something to comment under Mark’s poem on the class forum. 

With no one else giving any more feedback, Dr. Sung invites Mark to talk about his poem. 

“I just couldn’t sleep and instead of trying to calm my mind so that I could possibly sleep, I started thinking about all these questions that I didn’t have the answers to. So um… I got up and started writing,” he said, waving his little notebook in his hand. 

“Right, so do you actually have a hard time sleeping? Or…” Dr. Sung asks, trying to pull more meaning out of Mark. 

“Sometimes, yea. This poem isn’t actually completed I–” 

“You fell asleep midway?” Dr. Sung interrupted, causing Mark to laugh. 

You think Mark has a really contagious laugh because that was such a dad joke and yet, you found yourself laughing along with him.

“I– I just couldn’t find a way to wrap it up nicely? But I think it works well on its own now too. Maybe I’ll complete it in time for the poetry assignment. But, uh, yea. I think I really like using questions because it’s like a reader-response thing you know? I don’t want to just tell and show you how to feel. I want you to think about how you feel, when you read what I write. Do you agree? Do you not? That’s up to you,” Mark ends and slowly closes his notebook.

Mark was back in his apartment. 

A small, cosy two-room flat that’s  slightly off campus. He shares it with Haechan, his childhood friend, who he honestly hated for a while. But they’re as close as brothers now, so all is good and well. 

He was scrolling through the creative writing class forum, just looking at all the poems Dr. Sung missed out during class. That was when he noticed that someone had commented under his post for this week. 

- y/ntruly: seems like you have trouble sleeping. are YOU okay? - 

Mark can’t help but smile at his screen, his interest towards you peaking more than it did in class today. Not only because he liked your poem and appreciated how vulnerable your poetic voice is. Mark also thought you were really pretty. 

He noticed you on the first day of class. He remembers packing his things to leave as he draped his guitar over his shoulder. He got up to leave when he laid his eyes on you, talking to the professor after class. Your eyes trained on your laptop screen as you tugged a few strays of hair behind your ear, preventing them from blocking your vision. 

Mark almost tripped but that wasn’t the point. He wondered how you could look so cute even with confusion plastered all over your face. He remembers holding back a chuckle before he walked out of the lecture hall, just glad that he would be able to see you again next week. 

He quickly types a response and presses enter. 

- onyourm__ark: @y/ntruly I’m okay. Insomnia isn’t terrible now, so i’m grateful, really :p -

European Literature class finally comes to an end and you rush to pack your things so you can catch your professor before she leaves for her next lecture. 

Mark’s packing his laptop into his bag when he notices you scurrying up to the professor again. With your face, scrunched slightly in concentration, his heart can’t help but flutter a bit. He wonders if he should go up to you after you’re done talking to the professor. He wonders if the two of you can get to be friends, especially after that short interaction online the other day. 

He snaps back to reality when he hears your laughter. Your laptop is now closed and you’re just chatting with your professor. Just as Mark’s done packing his belongings, you greet your professor goodbye and begin walking towards the exit. 

Mark has no idea what he’s doing, it’s as if his body has a mind of its own. He rushes to sling his bag onto his shoulder before he’s trailing behind you. You’re nice enough to hold the door open for him and he manages to say a quick ‘thank you’ before he opens his mouth to speak again. 

“Y– you’re y/n, right?” Mark hesitantly asks, even though he knows he wouldn’t ever mistake you for someone else and he curses himself in the head for stuttering. 

You nod excitedly, your sparkling eyes looking up at him. “And you’re Mark, you’re in creative writing too right?” 

Mark can’t help but smile at you, nodding in reply. He initially feared that things would be awkward if he ever came up to say hi. Seeing your reaction now eases him but it doesn’t do anything to tame the rapid beating of his heart. 

He swears he has never been this courageous. Mark was just planning to say a quick ‘Hi’ and ‘See you around’. But it seems like his subconscious had other plans, perhaps he couldn’t help it. He was just so drawn to you since day one. 

“Are you heading off for another class?” Mark asks you and you tell him European Lit is your last class for today. He feels a wave of relief wash over him and he tugs at the drawstrings of his hoodie before he speaks again. 

“Would you like to grab dinner with me?”

The room is dim with only your laptop screens illuminating the small space. Mark stretches his arms upwards from beside you, yawning in the process. His eyelids are heavy and he can’t even be bothered to push his glasses up from the tip of his nose. 

“Dude, I can’t do this anymore,” He mumbles as he leans his head, flat on the table. 

It’s currently 2AM and the two of you have been working on essays for the past few hours. The two of you have multiple essay assignments to submit for midterms and have decided to stay up all night at his place to complete your essays for European Lit together.

After having dinner together that fateful day after class, a beautiful friendship started to blossom between the two of you. In a couple of weeks, the two of you were almost inseparable. You would meet every other day for all kinds of reasons. To eat together before classes. To eat after classes. To study the night away together. Or simply to just get a midnight snack. 

It was easy to always be around each other since the two of you found out you only lived a couple blocks away from Mark. He was sweet enough to walk you home every time you two would study or stay out till late at night. Even if the streets are empty, Mark always says that he simply doesn’t like the idea of you walking down the street alone at night. 

You lean closer to Mark to peek at his laptop screen. He was about done with his essay, only one more paragraph and the conclusion was left. You look down at Mark who was still resting his head on his table. 

“Come on, Mark. You’re almost done,” you said in a cheery tone in hopes of encouraging him. 

You were tired too but you knew it would only benefit the both of you if you guys finished the essay soon. Mark groaned as he lifted his head up and turned to look at you. He lets out a sigh and gets back to typing for barely two seconds before he’s sighing again. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you reach up to ruffle his hair, something you started doing in the moments where you found Mark irresistibly endearing. And Mark would never admit out loud but whatever you just did gave him more energy than any cup of tea ever would. 

It’s a little past 3AM now and you’re both finally done with your European Lit essays. You’re still on your laptop, sorting out the secondary sources you were going to use for another essay that you’ll start on the next day. While Mark has already escaped to his bed, strumming lightly on his guitar. 

The soft melody starts to get to you. Your tiredness suddenly becomes all the more present as you shake your head slightly to keep yourself awake. 

Suddenly, Mark’s strumming comes to a shrieking halt. You hear him fumble out of his relaxed position on his bed and walk back towards his study table where you were seated. He pulls out his black notebook that you know too well by now out from his bag and flipped to a half filled page.

“Got inspired?” You asked with a light-hearted laugh. And Mark only hums in response as he scribbles away in his notebook. 

Aside from essays, the two of you had to submit a poetry assignment for creative writing class. There were three main assignments for this class. A fictional prose, poetry and multimedia assignment. The two of you have been writing and proofreading each other’s work for the past few weeks. In your opinion, this was really the core of your friendship with Mark. 

No two poets write the same way. And even though the both of you have your own writing styles, you seem to hover around really similar themes. Your poems spoke more about yourselves than you two would like to show. But that’s the beauty of poetry. You can’t help but be sentimental and vulnerable. Showing someone your poetry is letting them into places of your mind that isn’t freely accessible by anyone else. 

It is laying your heart out to someone and allowing them to really see you. 

It surprised you really how naturally it played out with Mark. How instead of shying away from sharing your works with him, you wanted to know what he thought about them. For Mark too, poetry was cathartic for him. An outlet for the many thoughts that drowned him at night. And here he is laying them down for you to see. 

This vulnerability you had with one another only seems to strengthen the connection you have with Mark. You would never say this out loud but you feel like Mark was the only person in the world who truly knows you. 

“I’m done. I think it’s complete.” Mark tells you in confidence as he puts his pen down, pushing his notebook towards you. 

“Child by Mark Lee

I pull at the strings when I'm pissed

Only a few know that I'm 

Twisted, but the fittest to a point 

My mind is the Earth

That resolves around my dream –

Who's the sun – all day 

I'm alert, it's a curse and it hurts

I don't know my own strength

There's a lot that I don't know

But you learn when you don’t know 

Red on my Valentino

I'll break away from all my responsibilities

Until I'm free 

I don't want to look back 

Can I be a stranger to this society?

How'd I get so bitter? Brother liquor

I don't feel the same

Once it's all done won't you

Tell me later

I'm a child

Can't mould into how you want me 

Have a good night

There's no need for lullabies

It's my own questions, many questions

How do others see me?

Who am I? Who will I be? 

Many different nights with the same nightmares

Would there be anyone who can relate?

Even for a bit, can anyone understand this troubled kid?”

“So, um. W– what do you think?” Mark asks hesitantly. 

“I think it’s great… but I know you and I don’t think you’re twisted though,” you tell him earnestly. 

He chuckles and slowly closes his notebook, “You’ve read my stuff, you know I am.”

“Mark, how do you think others see you?” You ask timidly. Mark ponders about for a bit before he leans back in his chair.

“I think like you, many people think I’m a nice guy. But more importantly, to me… I’m not a nice guy.” He tells you sincerely, looking at you with glossy eyes. A heavy silence plagues the room, you look at him and your heart aches for the boy in front of you.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” you tell him wholeheartedly. In this moment, warmth spreads through Mark’s heart and he has never yearned for you more. There’s a quiet understanding between the two of you and Mark gently pats your head as a ‘thank you’. 

Mark quickly breaks the silence as he gets up from his chair and goes, “It’s getting late, I’ll walk you home.”

It’s week 10. And you want to rip your hair out. 

Midterms were over and done. Both you and Mark did pretty well for the modules you took together. But as the weeks draw closer to finals, the stress only continues to build. Some days are better than others, but today was not a good day. 

Nothing has been going well for you. You woke up late for creative writing class and poor Mark waited for you at the bus stop near your apartments until you arrived. If he didn’t call you to check if you were awake, you would have slept through the whole duration of the class with how tired you’ve been. 

“You shouldn’t have waited for me Mark, now you’ll be late too,” you told him when you finally got to the bus stop. Yet all this sweet friend of yours did was smile and passed you your cup of coffee he bought from a cafe nearby while he was waiting for you. 

“We always go to class together, it wouldn’t be nice to just ditch you. Plus, I already got you your coffee.” Mark told you while the two of you scurried into the bus. 

“You’re really the best Mark, what would I do without you?” 

Now it’s after creative writing class and you’re both studying in the library together. In class today, everyone mainly went round to present their proposal for their final multimedia project. The both of you had quite a bit to rethink in regards to your projects, but more so you than Mark. 

And you really mean it, if not for Mark being around to listen to your concerns about your project and giving you sound advice, you wouldn’t know what to do. Maybe you would have really started ripping your hair out. 

“Honestly, Dr. Sung is a really chill professor and he’s really open-minded too. Don’t let the class’ feedback cloud your judgement of your own project. I honestly think it’s a great idea. The only concern I have is whether you have enough time to put everything together? That aside, I’m all for your project and from Dr. Sung’s reaction when you were presenting in class, he seemed to like it too.” 

You listen to Mark with your lower lips protruding out, forming a pout. So many thoughts are running through your mind and it’s getting a little noisy for you to think straight. You know Mark is right and you should listen to yourself before anyone else since it is your project. So you just nod in reply, mind still in overdrive. 

“Okay, that’s enough. Let’s take a break before I have to run to my next class,” Mark said as he stood up from his seat in front of you. He walks to your side of the table and offers his hand. You put your hand in his and allow him to pull you out of your seat. 

The two of you left the depressing part of the library and entered one of the resting pods that were at the east side of your campus library. The resting pods were large enough for two to three people to rest from studying. The pods had bean bag chairs and speakers and a TV that you could connect to to watch movies. 

You’re both leaning on a bean bag chair each, talking about anything else but work. Mark said he wants to get his own mind off his essays and finals. But you know that he was trying to distract you from overthinking about your creative project. Mark could read you like an open book. Not because you were an open book at all. In fact, you would like to think that it usually isn’t easy for people to build a deep connection or friendship with you.

You were just selective. It’s not that you didn’t want to have friends. You just found that having a handful of friends is more than enough. You did most things alone anyways. Which is why you’re so amused by how attached you’ve grown to Mark and vice versa. 

Mark is a bit more outgoing than you were. He was friendly and approachable, overall he was a really nice guy. He’s a good and loyal friend to all his friends and would really try to help with whatever he could. It was as if it was in his nature to love those around him and treat them kindly. And you always thought the most admirable quality a person can have is the ability to love others. 

But like you, he struggled to let people in completely. His personality doesn’t make it come off like he’s shutting people out. It was obvious, however, that not everyone knew him as deeply as they think they do. 

It was a mystery how the two of you, who were so used to guarding your hearts out of instinct, seem to willingly offer it to each other. It was as if Mark already knew how you were feeling before you even spoke about what was bothering you. And you were already always there when he needed a listening ear or simply some silent company. 

As the weeks went by with Mark on your side, you wondered if this was really just a simple friendship between two souls and nothing more. Could it ever be more? 

“Anyways, I’ve decided. I’m going to make a song out of “Child” for my multimedia project. I think I can do more with it anyways,” Mark told you after your previous conversation ended. 

“You really should, you have the talent to do it. I’ll be looking forward to it, Mark Lee, don’t forget me when you get famous okay?” You jokingly teased him, even though you truly meant it when you said you were excited to see how it turns out. 

You’ve heard Mark play multiple instruments, his room alone is decorated with a few instruments and devices that he uses to make music. You haven’t heard Mark play something that was not pleasing to the ears. 

Mark lightly shoved you when you continued to tease him, singing one of his songs that he played for you before, in the privacy of his apartment. But he can’t help the smile that creeped up to his face or the butterflies that are going crazy in the pit of his stomach. He has long given up trying to tame them everytime you flash a smile at him, or when you casually compliment him like you just did. Even upon receiving a text from you would set the butterflies off. 

“I’ll make sure you get the first listen when I’m done with it then,” Mark tells you and you make him pinky promise you, which he did. 

Mark takes a look at his phone and realises he has fifteen minutes left till his next class starts, so the two of you decide to pack up and leave the library. 

The two of you are walking to the building next to the library where Mark’s next class was. The bus stop outside the building also had a bus that goes straight to your apartment building so you would usually walk with Mark class. 

“Anyways, thank you for helping me get my mind off the project for a bit, I think I know what to do with it now,” you tell him honestly just as you’re about to reach the bus stop. 

“It’s nothing, I’m your friend, I’ll always be here to help you. You know that right?” Mark replies as he bumps his shoulder lightly into yours, causing your hands to brush against each other. There he goes again, saying things that make your heart swell. Mark is such a precious friend, a friend. How rare is it to find a friend who knows you through and through and is still kind enough to stick around? You shouldn’t let your feelings get in the way.

So you only nod firmly, “I’ll always be here for you too.” 

Mark mumbles out a soft, “I know” before the rumble of the bus engine can be heard.

“Your bus is here,” Mark tells you as he waves for the bus. You gently push your glasses up and follow him. 

“Text me when you get home safely yea? I’ll see you tomorrow!” Mark says loud enough for you to hear him over the screech of the bus tires as it halts in front of you. 

You bid him goodbye and he stays at the bus stop till he sees you settle on a seat. Mark waves you goodbye with the cutest smile on his face and you hope he can’t see the pink tint that you know is appearing on your cheeks. You wave back at him as the bus engine revives to drive off.

The last creative writing class is tomorrow, which is also the day everyone will showcase their multimedia projects. 

You’re at Mark’s place (again), it’s your third night over in a row this week and Haechan isn’t even shocked anymore when he sees you getting a snack from their shared kitchen. He even cooked dinner for you and Mark yesterday. 

You an Mark have been studying for your European Lit finals together the past two days and tonight, the two of you are rushing to complete your assignments together. You don’t work as well when you’re alone at home, since your apartment is too comfy for you to work productively in. Which is why you’ve been studying with Mark everyday this week. 

It was good to always have a second opinion on essay theses and for someone to proofread your work too. The two of you work really well together and you enjoyed each other’s company so you don’t see a problem. Plus, Haechan really doesn’t mind it, it’s not like the two of you would bother him anyways. 

You’re putting the last of your art zine together for your multimedia project and Mark was rushing to submit his War Literature essay that was due at 12AM. So it was mostly silent, only frantic typing and the sound of flipping paper filled the room. 

“I’m done! I’m done, shit. Finally, I thought I was never going to finish it,” Mark exclaimed as the typing sounds came to a halt. You could only chuckle at his reaction, muttering out “what a champ” while you continue to glue small, detailed decorations on your printed art zine. 

Once he was done submitting it, he turned to you, his face adorning a half smile – the one where he smiles while biting onto his lower lips. He does this often when he has something exciting or funny to say. You can feel his eyes boring holes into your soul as he waits for you to notice his excitement. 

“Yes?” You prompt him as you put the glue stick down on his table and turn to face him. 

He chuckled before he leaned in closer and muttered, “Want to listen to the song?” 

And your eyes wided instantly, your mouth agape. It’s as if Mark’s excitement was transferred to you, you were so busy you almost forgot that he promised to give you the first listen. 

“Are you crazy? Of course I want to listen to it,” you blurt out. Mark can only laugh at your reaction, causing his nose to crunch up and you think he looks so cute like this. 

He connects his speakers to his laptop and pulls up a few tabs.  

“Okay you have to tell me what you think about the song honestly, okay? Like truthfully.” Mark tells you as he swings his right hand to and fro, imitating a chopping action that he does often when he talks about things seriously. 

“Please, have I ever been untruthful with you?” You snapped back as you clicked your tongue. 

Mark finally plays the song and you turn quiet, listening to the song attentively while bobbing your head lightly to the intro. 

Then Mark’s voice fills your ears and you can’t help but feel surprised. It’s not that you’ve never heard him sing before, because you have. But never like that, it’s usually just him singing casually as he strums his guitar to his favourite songs. 

This song was one of his own and it might just be the best one he has ever done. How he turned a simple poem into this, you could not fathom.

It wasn’t a ballad or the kind of emotional song that would make you cry. But knowing Mark and then listening to this song, it evoked a different kind of emotion that you couldn’t quite describe. You could almost feel his own bitterness and pain. And it’s enough to make you want to cry. 

Everything slows down towards the end, he sings the last few questions that were your favourite parts of the poem since you first read it. 

“Would there be anyone who can relate? 

Even for a bit, can anyone understand this troubled kid?”

And then the beat picks up again, as you look at Mark. He had an eyebrow raised expectantly but his expression was morphed with worry. Your eyes are glossed over and you try to put your thoughts together to give Mark something, anything. 

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and nodded. “Dude, it’s so good.” 

Mark’s face relaxed into a genuine smile, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought it was one of his best works, both the poem and the song. But it wouldn’t matter what he thinks if you didn’t like it. 

“Really? Don’t lie to me,” Mark said, trying to hide the smile that he couldn't hold back. 

You put your hand over his hand that was on his mouse, which causes him to freeze. 

“Mark, I love it. If I were Dr. Sung, this would be an A.” 

There it goes, the butterflies are going insane. 

You’re still editing your write up for your presentation tomorrow and Mark was sitting quietly beside you, studying European Literature. You read and reread your write up and then you did a final check of the pdf version of your art zine that you were going to show to the class. 

You sit back in your chair, removing your glasses to rub your tired eyes. After putting your glasses back on, you turn to Mark to ask if he wants to look through your write up with you. 

“Mark, can yo–” you silenced yourself when you took in his figure. Mark has both arms folded on his table, his head resting on them. His mouth slightly opened as his glasses hung at the tip of his nose. He looks so peaceful and you would feel so bad to wake him up right now. So you decided that the proofreading can wait. 

You don’t mean to stare but you couldn’t help yourself. 

It seemed harder and harder to hide your feelings recently. Especially these three days when you’re over at Mark’s place. You didn’t even bring your sweater today because Mark told you that you could just wear one of his hoodies. And he even offered you to stay the night since you’ll be going to the same class the next morning.

Mark treats you really nicely and you feel like you’re over analysing everything that he does at this point. Mark is probably just being a good friend when he does these sweet things, he is always nice to everyone so what makes you special? Then again, people always say that girls and guys can never be just friends. But you know very well that your friendship with Mark is genuine and built on something more than just that fluttering feeling in your chest. 

You sigh quietly to yourself as you stare at your friend’s sleeping figure. How can he look so good even when he’s asleep? You reach out to gently tug his glasses off his face so that he can sleep more comfortably. 

Once you got it off his face, you folded it and placed it on the table beside him. You rarely see Mark without his glasses but even so, you think your heart is being ridiculous with how fast it’s beating. You lean in to admire his features and your hand reaches out to delicately pat his head, he must be so tired from the past weeks of assignments and studying. 

Mark suddenly stirs in his sleep and you stop moving, your hand just resting on the crown of his head. You don’t know why you hold your breath but you do, realising how close your face is to Mark’s at this moment. 

Mark’s eyes fluttered open and was met with your face inches away from his. You freeze, your heart is thumping crazily in your chest but you can’t seem to pull away. He blinks slowly as if he’s trying to register what was going on. He doesn’t move either, Mark simply stares at you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of your face. 

The two of you are staring at each other wordlessly. Your mind is begging you to say something or at least remove your hand from his head. Anything. 

The past few seconds felt like years and when you catch Mark’s eyes gazing down to your lips, you finally snap out of this trance-like state and begin to remove your hand from Mark’s head and move away. 

“Wait, don’t pull away… not yet,” Mark muttered as he began to sit up with you when you started to pull away. 

You halt your movements and Mark catches a hold of your hand that was previously patting his head. You look down at your connected hands before locking eyes with Mark again. 

You’re confused and you’re trying your hardest to bite back the confession that is at the tip of your tongue. This all feels too intimate for two people who are just friends. And Mark’s hand is still holding yours firmly, as if you’ll run away once he lets go. 

Mark can’t get the words out, he knows it has to be now. He likes you so much. Just say it already, why can’t he just say it? So instead of trusting his own words, he lets his body lead him. Mark gently pulls at the temple of your glasses up with his free hand until your glasses are resting on top of your head. He leans forward and he feels like his heart is about to thump out of his chest. 

It’s as if his heart is so drawn towards your own, his eagerness overwhelms the fear that has been preventing him from making a move. Mark continues to lean in and you instinctively close your eyes, you feel him hold the side of your face ever so gently as his lips faintly brushes against your own. 

Mark looks at you one last time, his hesitant lips lingering just a millimetre away from yours before he closes his eyes and kisses you. 

His head was buzzing and he could only focus on how soft your lips were. You tasted sweet against his lips and Mark knew he was fucked, he knows there’s no turning back from here. Your hand that Mark was previously holding comes up to rest against his shoulder as you pull yourself closer to him. 

Mark’s lips move so smoothly against your own and you just take everything he has to give you. His kiss is gentle and heavy with emotions, with everything that he has yet to tell you. And you kiss him back with the same yearning. 

Mark wants to keep kissing you, he doesn’t want this to stop. He wants to hold you forever and spend every waking day with you. But something is screaming at him to pull away and he can no longer focus on the kiss. 

He pulls away first and leans his forehead against yours. His eyes are gazing at your closed one, you’re breathing deeply, your hand still perched on his shoulder. He leans back to sit up and you let go of him. 

You finally open your eyes to meet his own and your heart drops. You hold his hesitant and anxious gaze before you try and open your mouth to say something but Mark beats you to it.

“I’m so sorry… I– I didn’t know why I did that,” Mark utters out into the silent room. And you felt your heart stop.

It’s 1:27AM and you’re walking home alone. 

“I’m so sorry…” 

Mark’s expression is imprinted in your mind and you can feel the tears rising to the surface. Was it just disappointment you’re feeling? It feels heavier than that, you’ve felt disappointment before and this feels a lot worse. Can you call this a heartbreak? Afterall, the two of you were just friends. 

“Mark, w–what do you mean?” You asked, a frown inching onto your face as you fought back tears. 

“I think you should go home tonight,” Mark whispered loud enough for you to hear, his head hanging low. 

That’s mostly all that you remembered from the past ten minutes. After that you just packed your things and practically ran out of Mark’s apartment. 

You’re so stupid. Here you were thinking that you and Mark were about to get your happy ending. That you weren’t the only one who was feeling all these complicated feelings. That maybe, he liked you too. Why else would he kiss you?

But you were wrong. Maybe it was in the heat of the moment, for Mark. The kiss that was significant to you was just Mark testing the waters and realising that he didn’t want to swim in it. You never thought Mark was someone who would do something like that. Maybe you were wrong all along, you really didn’t understand Mark like you believed you did. 

You clutch your laptop pouch close to your chest to try and fill up the empty feeling that overwhelms you. You let the tears fall, there was no one looking at you now. Only the moon and the lonely street lamps that decorated the path to your apartment. 

You lift your arm to wipe your tears away with the end of your sleeve when the scent of Mark’s fabric softener filled your nose. You’re still wearing his hoodie, you let out an embarrassingly loud sob and wipe your tears with his hoodie sleeve anyways. 

All you want to do now is get back into your apartment and sleep. At least when you’re asleep, you don’t have to deal with the ache in your heart or the boy that haunts your thoughts. 

You’re walking briskly to creative writing class, after what happened yesterday you assumed Mark and you wouldn’t be going to class together. 

You were almost late because you woke up so disoriented and what made it worse is that your eyes were puffy from crying so much last night. You actually iced them before leaving the house, you couldn’t even tell if it did anything to help. 

When you finally entered class, your eyes caught sight of Mark immediately. It felt like deja vu. Mark’s seating at where the two of you usually sit, his guitar perched beside him. It was just like the first time you saw him in European Lit class. 

You feel terrible. You felt like you couldn’t approach Mark the same way anymore, was he going to become like a stranger to you now? After everything, is that how things end up between the two of you? 

You snap out of your thoughts and find a seat somewhere else. 

You were setting up your laptop for your own presentation while waiting for Dr. Sung to arrive when someone walks up to your table. You look up to see Mark standing in front of you and he gives you a tight-lipped grin. You don’t smile back, simply looking back to your screen. You hear him sigh softly before he places a cup of coffee on your desk and walks back to his seat. 

“Good morning class! How’s everyone doing?” Dr. Sung exclaims as he bursts into the classroom. 

Only then did you look up to stare at the cup of coffee that sits at the edge of your desk. There’s a post-it pasted on the side of it and you turn the cup slightly to read what it said. 

I’m sorry y/n. Can we talk after class please?

You sigh and take the paste-it off the cup, folding it and throwing it into your laptop pouch. You wished he would stop apologising, it just made it seem like he regretted kissing you and it doesn’t help you feel any better. 

You push this matter aside as much as you can. You had more things to focus on today. 

Dr. Sung began class and started calling students up one by one to present their multimedia projects to the class. Whoever was called upon would go up and present or even perform their work and after that, they could choose to explain what their work is about. Thereafter, Dr. Sung would ask some questions and the floor was open to whoever had questions too. 

Mark was called up to present his project after about an hour into the lesson. He got his guitar out from the bag and pulled his chair along with him to the front of class. 

“So, I turned my poem, “Child” into a song. I’ll be submitting a full audio version to Dr. Sung but I’ll just be performing a part of it for you all today… Um, yea so here it goes,” Mark ended his introduction and after sitting down, he began strumming the guitar. 

A familiar tune filled your ears as you continued staring at your laptop. It was the same song but Mark performed it at a slower pace, enhancing the sense of melancholy that matches the song which doesn’t help the ache in your heart. Mark’s voice filled the room as he started singing and you gave in, looking up from your laptop screen to look at Mark. 

As he performed, he would look down at the neck of his guitar and then up at the class. His eyebrows moved expressively as he sang each word. There were people swaying and bobbing their heads to the song and Dr. Sung was evidently immersed in Mark’s short performance. 

Your eyes were glued onto Mark against your will as the song slowly came to an end. 

“Would there be anyone who can relate? 

Even for a bit, can anyone understand this troubled kid?” 

Mark’s eyes flickered up from his guitar and his gaze was locked on you. It’s as if he was posing the questions to you, as if he was looking at you in search of some sort of answer. You want to look away but you can’t so you hold his gaze and for the first time in a while, you can’t read him. 

Mark was the first to look away, pulling the strap of his guitar over his head and off his shoulder. The class applauded him and Dr. Sung even went up to pat Mark a couple times on the back. Mark mumbled a few ‘thank you’s before he returned to his seat. 

“Amazing, well done Mark! Well done,” Dr. Sung said as he walked over to scan the namelist. 

“Alrighty, next up let’s have y/n, show us what you have!” Dr. Sung called out. 

You inhaled deeply as you began to make your way to the front of the class. After handing the physical art zine to Dr. Sung, you take another deep breath before you set everything down on Dr. Sung’s desk and began to pull up the pdf of your art zine to show the class. 

You explain that your art zine was a play on Ekphrastic poetry – which is defined as poems written about works of art. Instead of writing poems based on different works of art, you did things the other way around. The purpose was to mention how certain emotions like loneliness, guilt, joy, love are universal. And through your art zine, you wanted to show that there were so many different ways people come to express the same type of emotions. 

Dr. Sung was nodding along while you were explaining your project. He flips through page by page as your explanation comes to an end. 

Mark was watching you from his seat and despite the complicated situation you two are in right now, he couldn’t be more proud. He looks down, hiding a smile as he listens to you speak passionately about your project. 

“Wow, ‘Rest Energy’ is included here too. Why don’t you just read this poem out for us y/n? Maybe we can talk more about it too,” Dr. Sung requested after he was done looking through your zine. It was one of the many poems you included in your zine and one of your favourites too. 

“This is love by y/n

We stood facing each other,

merely three feet apart.

I grip the bow handle and you draw the bow,

leaning back. 

Your arrow, aimed directly at my heart.

I silently pray,

Don’t let your fingers slip,

Please take care of my heart.

Our fate lies in your hands. 

You can let the arrow go, set yourself free,

Or tighten your grip and spare me.

This is how love works.

One of you is always the archer, 

And the other, always the prey.”

When you wrote this poem, you were just inspired by a Taylor Swift song. But reading it now in front of the whole class, with what happened between you and Mark just last night, it was daunting on you how cruel love can be. All at the same time, you know that love is so much more than that.

Dr. Sung asks you if you think this is really what love is like and you pondered silently as the class awaited your answer. 

“I do think love can be scary, maybe even cruel. I think it takes a lot to entrust your heart to someone. And even more to trust that they won’t break your heart. But none of this is really in your control, yet there are so many people who are still willing to take the risk and fall in love anyway. Just like Abramovic and Ulay did in ‘Rest Energy’. I do think love can be scary but I don’t think our fear should get in the way of loving each other. If we all just let our fears stop us from loving and being loved, wouldn’t our world be such a sad place?”

After Dr. Sung gave his short goodbye speech and wished all of you the best of luck for your finals, you’re all scurrying to leave. That’s how week 13 classes were like, everyone’s rushing off to get a seat in the library or hurrying to find a place to mug for their finals. 

You were the same, but more than that you were just trying your best to avoid Mark. So you packed your things and quickly got out of the classroom, bidding some of your classmates goodbye as you made your way out.

As you were walking along the corridor towards one of the study rooms, you heard Mark calling for you from behind. 

“Y/n, wait up,” he said as he jogs forward to catch up to you. 

You continued walking, not wishing to talk to him just yet. But you had no choice when Mark places himself in front of you preventing you from reaching your destination. 

“Please, won’t you just talk to me?” Mark pleads as he looks at you, looking helpless like a lost puppy. 

“What is there to talk about?” you mumbled back, unsure of what you were even supposed to say. 

“I’m really sorry. I never meant to upset you, I just want things to go back to how they were,” Mark tells you with a sense of desperation in his voice. He knew he messed up and he just wanted to make things right again. 

A frown found its way to your face and you feel frustration bubbling in your chest. How does he expect you to just pretend like nothing happened and go back to being friends again? After what happened, it was clear that there was no going back. 

“Mark, you can’t just kiss me and pretend like it never happened the next day. You know we’ll never go back to being just friends again. You can’t play with people’s feelings like that... and out of everyone I know I wouldn’t have expected you to treat me like this,” you were blinking back tears as you felt your heart break just a little more and you can see Mark’s expression mirroring your own. 

You try to walk away when Mark doesn’t say anything but he grabs onto your wrist, preventing you from walking past him. 

“I’m not trying to mess with your feelings, t– that was never my intention. I… I really did mean to kiss you.”

You’re staring at Mark like he just told you that the earth was flat. Alarms were going off in your mind, trying to tell you to not fall for what he’s telling you. But you know in your heart that Mark wouldn’t lie to you, he never has. 

“After the kiss, I just got scared. I felt so vulnerable… It terrified me,” Mark’s eyes were glossy and he can’t look at you, so he stares at his hand that is still holding your wrist, shame causing him to slowly let you go. 

“I don’t understand…” 

“You kissed me back… and it felt like a relief that you did. But I– I’m not a good person, and I was afraid that you’re going to see that and decide that you were wrong about how you felt about me. So I panicked and pushed you away. Y/n… I just really didn’t know what to do,” Mark tells you all this and you want to tell him that he’s wrong about himself. That in the short few months that you got to know him, you saw every part of him that he was willing to offer and adored every one of them. 

At the same time, you already know that there is no way you can ever be in a platonic friendship with Mark. The two of you can either become something more or go your separate ways. And it pained you that such a wonderful friendship had to come to this. 

“I already know you, Mark… and I still like you anyway. But if you’re still afraid then I think this is where we have to part ways.” 

Mark looks at you, shock evident on his face but he can’t bring himself to say anything. His heart is pounding against his chest, as if urging him to tell you that he likes you too. That he couldn’t even fall asleep last night because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. To just tell you that he wants to be with you. But his mind remains blank and he lets his cowardice win again. 

Disappointed and heartbroken, you let out a shaky breath and mumble a soft, “I got to go,” before you finally walk past Mark. And this time, he lets you. 

In less than 24 hours, Mark has allowed you to walk away from him twice. And he curses himself mentally, not only did he let you go again. Even after he knows how you feel about him, he still couldn’t bring himself to tell you how much he really likes you.

Mark saw you again today. It’s been three days since the kiss and he only saw you briefly today after your European Literature’s final paper. He pondered over the thought of trying to talk to you again but by the time he made up his mind, he already lost sight of you in the crowd of students. 

He thought that maybe it was better this way, he was done with finals but he knew you had another paper the day after so maybe it was best to leave you be and let you complete your finals in peace. 

Mark entered his room and let out a sigh. He’s done with another semester and usually at this time of the year he would be feeling relieved at the fact that he had completed another thirteen weeks of school. But this time, there was still a lingering heaviness in his heart and he didn't know how he’s supposed to get rid of it. 

He threw his bag onto his study table and allowed himself to collapse face first onto his bed. His soft mattress invites him into its embrace and he can feel sleep catching up to him since he hasn’t been sleeping well the past few days. 

Mark was going to finally let his eyes close when he heard his door creak open. He turned his head to see Haechan, who invited himself into the room with a bag of chips in his hand. 

“You’re done with finals right?” Haechan asked nonchalantly, munching away at his chips as he took a seat at the edge of Mark’s bed. Mark took whatever strength was left in his tired being to pull himself up, sitting up beside his housemate. 

“Yea, I finished my last exam today, you’re done too right?” Mark asked Haechan back, eliciting a hum from his friend. 

“So…? Spill. Something’s clearly wrong with you, finals are over and you still look like you have no will to live.” Haechan and Mark knew each other since they were little. If there was anyone that really did know Mark like the back of their hand, it was Haechan. 

Haechan also happened to be home when you stormed out of their apartment that night. He figured something bad must have happened but knowing Mark, he knew better than to pry when things were still so fresh. Now that finals are over, it felt like a good time to check in with his – very gloomy – best friend. 

“I honestly don’t know where to start, all I know is that I really fucked up. And I have no idea how I’m supposed to unfuck the situation,” Mark began as he brushed his fingers through his hair, his frustration with himself evident on his face. 

He has been thinking about you everyday since he last spoke to you. With each passing day, Mark only missed you more. Just saying that he missed you doesn’t even encapsulate the true extent of how he’s feeling. 

It was more like a yearning, the days without you left too long. The memories of the days spent with you kept him up at night and he questions if he’ll ever get to create such memories again. 

“It’s about y/n right? What happened, did you end on bad terms with her?” Haechan asked before he popped another chip into his mouth. 

“Huh?” That was all Mark could mutter out, confused by what his best friend meant. 

“You two were dating right? So you’re not seeing her anymore, but were you being an ass about it?” Haechan prompted again, trying to make his words more clear after being met with Mark’s confused expression. 

“Haechan… we were never together. We were just friends,” Mark told him and Haechan stopped chewing, his mouth hanging open with this new information. 

Haechan always thought the two of you were dating ever since you first came over to the apartment two months ago. He never asked if you were Mark’s girlfriend because he figured his friend would let him know once the relationship was official. This, however, was not what he expected to hear from his friend. 

“So that’s where you fucked up…” 

Mark spent the next few minutes filling Haechan in on what happened and Haechan only felt bad for the both of you. 

Haechan didn’t get the chance to know you very well but he could tell that you were one of the sweetest girls Mark has ever met. Truthfully, he has never seen Mark bring any girl home. Neither has he seen his best friend smile over a text like the way he does when he’s texting you. Every time you came over and Haechan was at home, you made sure to make small talk with him and apologise for disturbing him even though you were never a bother. So he sincerely felt terrible that Mark did what he did to you. 

However, he also knew Mark. After all these years of knowing and sharing life with Mark, he learnt that Mark was literally the nicest guy, ever. He would help his friends without expecting anything in return. There was no ulterior motive when it came to Mark, he simply helped people because that was his way. Mark has one of the biggest hearts and would never even intend to hurt you like this. 

For all the love that Mark gave, Haechan knew Mark didn’t know how to allow himself to be loved. That was his biggest problem. That’s why it even took Haechan so long to truly get to know him. Mark was just too afraid that people would see past his kindness and find just that small part of him that was a little too dark for the world and decide that he was not worth the love they were giving him. 

But he knows from the way Mark talks about you that his friend has truly fallen for you. Haechan just hopes that Mark can finally take this leap of faith, and to allow himself to be loved by you too. The two boys can’t deal with cheesy shit but Haechan genuinely only wants to see Mark happy. And he has never seen Mark happier around anyone else in a long time. With all these thoughts running through his mind, Haechan decided to pose his best friend one simple question. 

“Can you picture it? You and y/n, being together.”

“MARK, please… she likes you, right? She told you that. And you’ve already prepared all this for her, can you stop being a chicken and just go already.” 

Haechan’s getting pissed off, he can feel himself start to perspire despite the AC being on full blast already. Mark has planned out his whole confession for the past two days ever since he told Haechan about everything. 

He even bought you a bouquet of pink tulips and wrote a letter. But now, Mark’s nerves are getting to him and he can’t bring himself to leave the house. Haechan wants to shove his best friend out the door but at the same time, he promised Mark that he would be nice and help him through this. 

“Dude, I feel like my heart’s about to explode. She hates me, you should have seen her face that day,” Mark utters out as he paces around the living room. 

“Okay, look. Y/n is really upset with you. But you’ll only regret it more if you don’t tell her right? What’s the worst that can happen? If she rejects you, then you just come back and we’ll go to Johnny’s party and drink your feelings away. But if all goes well, you’ll both get your ‘happy ever after’ and I can go to the party alone. So for the love of all the gods in this world, just go already.”

Mark is walking to your apartment now after Haechan completely lost all patience with him and finally shoved him out, making sure to tell him not to come back if he doesn’t confess to you today. 

The path to your apartment is all too familiar. Mark has walked you home too many times, more than you could count on both hands. He would always walk on your left, on the side that’s closer to the road even on the nights where the roads were close to empty. 

He remembers how he would start slowing down once you two were a block away, trying to savour the last few minutes with you. 

Mark has done a lot of thinking the past few days. However, it was only after confiding in Haechan that he realised how much he really wants to be with you. 

In the beginning, Mark thought that he just had a small crush on you. It’s true that he found you attractive. Very attractive. Mark always thought you had the prettiest eyes and the moment you two locked eyes that fateful day in creative writing class, he could already feel himself falling. 

As he got to know you more, Mark honestly believed that his feelings would fade away. That was what happened in the past with his old crushes. But needless to say, things turned out differently with you. 

If it was even possible, you became more beautiful in his eyes as Mark got to know you. He couldn’t get enough of your adorable smile, or the sound of your laughter. He just wanted to keep spending time with you. 

You understood him like no one else did. Sure, he had close friends who he could confide in and talk to. But it wasn’t the same with you. He felt safe enough to expose the parts of him he wanted to keep from everyone else. Mark saw you see him for who he is and saw that you didn’t waver. You didn’t shy away from him or judge him like he thought you would. You were the only person who understood and accepted the sides of himself that even he found difficult to look at.

Mark didn’t want to be afraid anymore. He just wanted to love you and let you love him. But he knows that that isn’t a decision he could make on his own. 

So he planned everything, the flowers, the letter and even down to what he was going to say. Mark knows that you would be done with your final exams today and he didn’t want to drag this out any longer. 

Haechan was right, he would only regret it if he never told you how much he likes you. He has already missed out on this chance twice. But third time’s the charm right? 

Mark would be over the moon if you were to accept his confession and to forgive him for being the coward that he is. But if you choose to walk away again, Mark doesn’t blame you. At least you would know how he truly felt and he could go home knowing that he tried his best. 

Time flies when you’re busy being in your head. 

Mark was already standing in front of your door, he could feel his palms turning clammy as he held the bouquet of tulips in his hand. He lifts up his quivering right hand to knock on your door but he puts it down again, inhaling deeply to try and calm his pounding heart. 

He gulps as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat and lifts up his hand again to knock on your door. Mark’s knuckles tap against your door firmly, just twice as he takes a step back, anticipating the opening of your door. 

But the door remains closed. A pout finds its way to Mark’s confused face, he tries knocking again. 

“Y/n? It’s me… C-can you please open the door?” Mark calls out when you don’t answer the door again. 

He’s about to try knocking again when he hears a soft, “Mark?” coming from beside him. 

And there you were, standing next to him, with shock written all over your face. Mark’s heart swells upon seeing you, he feels like it’s been too long and he knows that now’s the time to finally make things right. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked once you get over the shock of seeing Mark in front of your apartment, holding a bouquet of flowers. 

“I need to tell you something, it’s really important.” Mark said as he turned his body to face you. He looks as handsome as ever, his hair falling just under his eyebrows and his glasses perched on his cute, round nose. 

You can’t deny that you’ve missed him, but you didn’t expect to see Mark anymore after everything that had happened. You thought he decided that the two of you were better off going your separate ways. Now that he’s standing in front of you again, you can’t tame the butterflies from going insane in your stomach. 

Taking your silence as a means to proceed, Mark spoke again. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot since we last spoke and you were right. We can never go back to being just friends again… because all I can think about is being with you. I– I’m sorry for being such a coward, I should have told you this the night we kissed. Y/n, I really like you…” 

You’re gazing into Mark’s doe eyes and you don’t try to hide the tears that are forming in your eyes or the soft smile that appears on your face. Mark’s face slowly mirrors your own as he shyly hands you the bouquet of flowers. 

It all felt like a dream, there’s a tint of pink that rose onto Mark’s cheek as you took the flowers from him. Your eyes are glossy and you simply ask him, “How did you know that tulips were my favourite flowers? I don’t remember ever telling you.”

Mark lets out a chuckle, “I didn’t know, tulips are my favourite flowers too.” 

The two of you can’t look each other in the eye, both trying to repress your own shyness and the crazy racing of your hearts. Mark was so busy being relieved that you didn’t just chase him away that he almost forgot the most important thing he came here to do. 

“Um… I just wanted to tell you how I really felt about you and I would totally understand if you’re still upset with me. But I just wanted to ask you, i– if… what I’m trying to say is… y/n will you be my girlfriend?” 

You don’t know why you were so shocked. Mark literally confessed to you less than five minutes ago. Maybe it’s because you have been trying to accept the (now, false) fact that Mark never felt the same way about you over the past few days. But all you managed to do in response to Mark’s question was to let your mouth hang out as you stared at Mark in pure surprise. 

“I– It’s okay if you need time to think about it, I know I really messed up and I–” 

You know you didn’t need time to think, for the past few weeks leading up to the kiss, all you could fantasise about was this moment. So you cut Mark’s worried rambling short by lifting yourself up on your tiptoes and placing your lips against his. 

Mark lets out a muffled sound of shock but he quickly gets over it when he realised what was happening. He closes his eyes and leans forward to capture your lips in his as his hand lands on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. 

You could feel Mark smile against your lips and you can’t help but let out a giggle when you pull away briefly. Mark doesn’t waste any time as he chases your lips, kissing you again. You place your free hand on his chest to steady yourself as Mark kisses you deeply, as if conveying all that his heart feels for you in this one kiss. 

The kiss slows, becoming only more intimate as your lips move against Mark’s soft ones. There was only yearning and pure adoration that flowed between the two of you. You finally pull away, letting your eyes slowly flutter open to see that Mark was already gazing lovingly at you with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Yes, Mark, I will be your girlfriend.”

Dear y/n, 

You were right when you said that the world would be a really sad place if we were to let our fear prevent us from loving and being loved. When I pushed you away out of fear, my world turned into a really depressing place. I’m sorry I let fear stop me from telling you just how much I like you. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing.” – Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out

I finally understood what Woolf meant when she said this after meeting you. You, who have seen me so completely and still like me anyhow, to me it’s nothing short of a miracle. If you’ll let me, I’ll love every part of you and never let you walk away from me ever again. 

Yours truly, Mark

You were rereading Mark’s first letter to you again today. 

It’s been three really good months since the two of you got together officially. And Mark’s coming to pick you up in a bit for a date. Nothing has really changed, you’re the same people you were when the two of you first met. And it’s still plenty fun when the two of you go out together. The only difference is that you two would hold hands as you walked along the streets, exchange hugs as a ‘hello’ and kiss each other tenderly goodbye when the day ends. 

You won’t lie, sometimes you would still silently wish that the two of you didn’t have to go through such a difficult time before getting together. But maybe it was needed for the two of you to realise just how much you really wanted to be together.

Maybe it was thanks to those few difficult days that helped you two realise that this relationship was a risk worth taking. That the both of you truly deserved to be loved by each other. 

Your phone buzzed beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present. 

You folded Mark’s letter neatly and slid it back into the envelope before placing it back into the drawer of your bedside table. 

- hi babe, i’m downstairs! -

- It’s kind of chilly today, bring a sweater along okay? see u real soon :) -

You smile at your phone as you rush to put on your shoes, stumbling your way to your front door. It’s been a few months and you never fail to get excited with the thought of seeing Mark again. It doesn’t even matter if you saw him just yesterday, the excitement is always the same. 

When you get out of the lift, you see Mark standing right outside with one hand in the pocket of his hoodie. When he hears you call him, his head snaps up to look at you and a wide smile finds its way to his face. 

“Babe, you look so pretty,” Mark tells you as he pulls you into a warm hug, taking in the sweet, comforting smell of your perfume. You lean into the crook of Mark’s neck as you mumble a “thank you”. 

The two of you pull away and Mark slings his arm over your shoulder out of habit as you two walk out of your apartment building. 

“Where are we going today?” You asked as you circle your arm over Mark’s waist, holding him close. 

“Let’s go book shopping, I’m itching for a new read,” Mark told you, anticipating your excitement. And you don’t disappoint, you love going to bookstores, especially with Mark. 

You’re already rambling on about this book series that you think Mark would like and all he can do is stare at you as you go on excitedly. If there was one thing he did right in his life, Mark knew it was taking that leap of faith with you. 

Mark has never been this happy or this at peace with where he is in life. And he knows that he owes it to how well you love him. He didn’t know why he was so afraid in the beginning when you had always taken such good care of his heart. Ever since you were still friends, you held his heart in your hands ever so gently, being careful never to let it break. 

Mark loves you with all his heart and he finally realises that he was worthy of all the love that you were willing to give him too.