#ic. mark

Mark walked into the bakery fifteen minutes late on his first day, which definitely wouldn’t give his coworker a great first impression. He hoped his baking skills would make up for that as he walked towards the door leading into the baking room, already wrapping his apron around his waist. The bakery had no customers yet, and the original baker must be making the first dough of the day, which explained the absence at the front counter.

Mark put on a polite smile when he saw his coworker indeed was busy kneading. Good thing Mark worked mornings, or the place wouldn’t be this empty when he was late. He still felt bad for leaving the other man to open and start up on his own, though.

“Elysia! Elysia?! Elysia!” 

“Your Highness!”

Voice upon anxious voice called as lanterns dotted the dark shore. Several boats have already sailed into the night in an attempt to find any survivors from the shipwreck earlier this evening-- but most importantly, Princess Elysia. All men searching the shore for her would scream her title except once: Her betrothed, Adonis, who seemed the most panicked of all. Some would say he looked near to tears, others would claim it was just the reflection of their handheld lights. Nevertheless, nobody could deny the tremor and worry in his voice as he called her name.

The collective shouts of the searchers weren’t hard to miss. Mark, who had pulled a woman out of the depths, could hear them getting closer and closer. Humans were a looming threat, and any sign of their proximity should sent a merman scurrying into the waters, but Mark couldn’t just-- leave her lying there. He had to make sure she was alive, at least! Make sure she could breathe. He lowered his head to press his ear against her chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was there, but faint, slow. Mark knew that was a bad thing, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Human hearts worked differently.

Echoes of ‘Your highness!’ were far enough to give him time to think. However, barely a second after that chorus, a much closer ‘ELYSIA!’ sounded from right around the corner of the bulky rocks holding back the shore. Mark panicked, lifting himself up with his arms, painfully contemplating on whether to jump back in the water or to figure out how to help the woman. But before he could decide--

“Elys-- ELYSIA!” Adonis had rounded the corner, but his vision was too obstructed by the rocks to notice that the man sitting near his fiancée had a scaly tail. Making his way past the obstructions, Adonis loudly asked, “Is she alive?! Is she breathing?!”

I don’t know. Mark’s guilt contorted his face as he quickly dragged himself away from the woman -- Elysia -- and towards the ocean. This man would know what to do. He would know better how to save her.

It wasn’t often that customers looked straight up angry or upset while looking about. Usually, Mark preferred to avoid those -- ESPECIALLY when he was off his shift -- but this time, the customer in question (a beyond beautiful woman scanning every shelf with savage eyes while walking across the aisles like a parchment of silk across skin) made eye contact with him. He instantly forgot that he was no longer in his uniform, his back subconsciously straightening as his body came to attention, ready to serve.

“What are you looking for?” he asked politely. Mark had no guesses, but perhaps it should have been obvious that the woman was looking for the alcohol. The second she answered, Mark nodded and said, “Of course. Right this way.”

She was already almost there, but Mark walked her across two aisles until they were faced with rows and rows of bottles of all shapes and sizes. The store’s collection wasn’t elite by any means (at least half of it was different flavours of beer), but she should be able to find something she fancied in here.

They were in the library, studying for upcoming exam time. Elysia was buried deep in her AP coursework, university application deadlines coming up. She was flipping papers, her pen flying across her notebook as she solved advanced calculus problems, leg bouncing impatiently underneath the desk. Half of her wanted to flip the table over, really.

She was with Mark, who calmed her presence somewhat. He was seated across from her and to Elysia, looked nowhere near as stressed as she was. This was largely because they were not taking the same courses whatsoever. They had different life paths it seemed - though that was something she didn’t want to think about. The thought of not being able to see Mark everyday had a weird feeling unfurling in her chest; suddenly feeling all the more NAUSEOUS over the whole university application process coming up. The calculus problem suddenly seemed to go over her head and she couldn’t damn remember the FORMULA she was supposed to be using –

Letting out a quiet sigh, she glanced up from her notebook and saw Mark making the most RIDICULOUS face she’d ever seen at her. His cheeks were sucked in, eyes crossed, tilting his head slightly, looking like he was possessed. A laugh burst out of her before she could help it.

Teeth flashed in a grin as tension melted off her shoulders - tension she hadn’t been aware she was carrying until it left. “What are you doing?”

Mark had already made his decision and told his dad he didn’t want to go to college. It was less about the intimidating amount of work university life presented and more about the fact that they couldn’t afford it. Mark was more afraid of having to pay off loans for the rest of his life than he was afraid of a minimum wage job. Plus, Ben had mentioned a few times -- over the course of Mark’s life -- that he was saving up to do a master’s degree. Mark couldn’t bring himself to get in the way of that. He thought that, at the end of the day, college was overrated.

However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t impressed by Elysia’s focus and resolve. Watching her hovering over her notes like her life depended on it was...interesting. Mark was supposed to be finishing his own homework (Just because he wasn’t applying for college didn’t mean he would be slacking.) but he found himself pausing to admire her very often. At some point, however, his admiration turned into secondhand stress. The lines between her eyebrows and the tense set of her jaw unsettled him. He wanted to make her laugh.

So he kept looking at her, waiting. When he got the feeling she was about to look up, he made the most elaborate funny face he could think of. Mark didn’t think she would actually laugh out loud in the middle of the library, but she did. The sound turned a few heads, but it made him more happy than regretful.

“Your name is Forrest?”

The question comes out before Mark can suppress it. It wasn’t uncommon to make small talk with customers, but this young man seemed very shy. He didn’t look at Mark once as he scanned his groceries. Even as he handed over his credit card, his eyes were averted. It was while processing the credit card payment that Mark noticed the young man’s name and couldn’t keep his mouth shut about it.

It was a unique name. A lovely name.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be intrusive, sir, but it’s a really wonderful name,” Mark elaborated, hoping the compliment would patch the awkwardness. Forrest Greene. Did he get bullied for that name in high school? That would have been preposterous. Mark thought his name was beautiful.