#mark andrew

The injury bug had certainly gotten around recently, and even though Morgan Webster had felt its bitter sting, there was no feeling quite like seeing his partner get hurt. It hurt Morgan knowing that Mark was alone in his flat struggling with a shoulder injury more than the fact that he was struggling with an ankle injury of his own. So, despite the crutch that he found himself leaning on, Morgan had decided to pick up a nice dinner for the two to surprise his tag and romantic partner with.

Holding the bag of Thai food on one arm while he leaned against his crutch, Morgan knocked on the door of the flat. It was entirely too quiet for his partner's floor, no tell tale sound of 2000's pop punk echoing from within. Morgan had been ready to cut his loss and leave when the door opened up, revealing Mark whose arm was in a sling. His soft blue eyes lit up when he saw Morgan, that bright smile that had lifted Morgan's spirits so many times crossing his lips, "Flash! Whattya doing here, mate?"

"Figured ya could use the company cause I could use the company," Morgan beamed as he hobbled into the living room, placing the bag of food down on the coffee table lined with different magazines, all about music. Morgan wondered if Mark was able to play guitar with his wrist in the state it was in, "How's your wrist holding up?"

"Bout as good as your leg," Mark moved one of the throw pillows off of the couch, patting it for Morgan to sit down, "C'mon. I'll see if ya brought anything worth eating."

Morgan propped his crutch against the back of the wall before sitting on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. The two sat together in a comfortable silence as they dug into their meal. Morgan had once read a quote about the silence between two friends never being an uncomfortable one and he had to agree. Silence between himself and Mark was never a bad silence. "I missed this," he grinned gently, "I missed ya, Mark."

Mark pushed a fork around his plate of pad thai, the look on his normally jovial face undecipherable for once, "Ya know, Morgan...I been thinkin'..."

"That's what I smell," Morgan leaned back on the couch, crunching into a piece of gyoza, "your brain is burnin'."

"Hardy har har," Mark rolled his eyes, "but...uh...ya got one good leg and I got one good arm right now. What if...uh..."

Morgan 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 what Mark was trying to get at, there was no other reason he would be bringing it up. And yet, he wanted to hear it. He 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 to hear it, "Go on, Mark."

"It's hard to miss someone when ya live with them," Mark chewed his lower lip nervously, "so I guess what I'm askin' is...move in with me?"