“Omo, Mark! Why are you back so late? You didn’t pick up my calls and your father’s company called for an urgent meeting so I couldn’t fetch you from school! But you really should pick up my calls. Aish, Mark, I was so worried!” Mr Park hastily walked to the main door of the mansion, towards Mark, his well-practised hands slipping the hoodie off Mark’s body like he does everyday when the boy reaches home.

Raising an eyebrow, he scrutinised the unfamiliar piece of outerwear and looked questioningly at Mark. “New hoodie?”

Mark immediately snatched the hoodie from Mr Park’s grasp, a little too aggressively. He lowered his eyes as he nodded his head guiltily, his face flushing as red as beetroot.

“Vintage? Not your style, Mark.” Mr Park commented, referring to the hoodie’s colour, a faded blue, which probably used to be a deeper shade. It was also not like Mark to shop for clothes, as Mr Park knew that the only thing the boy had interest in for the longest time was the cello.

“Whatever, Mr Park.” Mark walked away hurriedly, pretending that nothing had happened. He ignored the shouts from his guardian to have dinner and bolted up the stairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

As he shuffled to his bed, the floor length mirror captured his worn out figure. Mark turned his head slightly to survey his appearance. He was drained of energy, as though he was leaking electricity, his watery eyes droopy, and lips pale. Tugging at his collar, he stared at his plastered bruise in awe. What was red and raw now looked like an ugly, dark purple blotch.

Ouch. He winced in pain when his hand reached out to touch the wound. Thank goodness Mr Park didn’t notice this, or he’ll nag at me until the world ends.

Mark ruffled his messy hair, pulled his arms back as he stretched and let out a huge sigh, before falling limply onto his bed, his head hitting the pillow. He pulled out his mobile phone from his pocket and looked at the text message sent to him a while ago. His soft lips stretched into a smile. His fingers busily tapped on the screen as he saved Jinyoung’s number into his contacts, before going back to his text messages to reread the text.

Mark could read these words repeatedly and not get bored or sick of them for years.

Somehow, the assault he experienced a few hours ago had almost completely faded in his memory. It was painful and frightening, but that little glowing light in the darkness crept closer to Mark and shone through the pitch blackness, letting Mark’s world bathe in a warm rosy glow. That light was Jinyoung.

“I’m home, omma!”

“Ah Jinyoungie! Come here, dear.”

Jinyoung rushed into his mother’s embrace, his soft hands framing her face to assure her of his presence. He grinned as he saw the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled her toothy grin; they were so similar in many ways.

“Did you have a good day, son?”

“Yes, in fact I did! I met a new friend, he’s called Mark and he’s really nice.” Jinyoung boasted to his mother, excitedly.

His mother reached out to trace her thumb over Jinyoung’s lips, laughing softly as she nodded thoughtfully. “You’re really happy, Jinyoungie. Is he someone special?” Jinyoung’s mother was blind, but she knew her son inside out. The boy had never dated with and showed interest in girls; rather, he showed greater comfort when with the boys, and even a liking towards them.

“Of course he’s special! It’s such a coincidence but I think he was one of my audiences when I busked on the streets that day! I’d never thought he would become my classmate.” Jinyoung said very sincerely, recalling the first day he had met Mark. He had yet to clarify that encounter with the red head; so many things had happened that they never had a chance to sit down for a good conversation. Besides, he was unsure if Mark had remembered him and would rather not risk their budding friendship with awkwardness now.

Jinyoung’s mum simply nodded her head. He obviously did not get her underlying question, but she decided to let him discover himself at his own pace, on his own.

Just then, Jinyoung’s phone beeped. He reached for it and bit his lip in sheer enthusiasm as he saw the sender of the text message.

“I’ll be right back for dinner, omma!”

Jinyoung skipped to his room and whipped out his mobile phone before putting down his backpack first like he usually does, smiling as he replied, mouthing the words he wanted to say as he typed.

With that, he headed to the cosy dining room for to have dinner with his mother, taking note to bring his phone along with him, which he placed right beside his plate.

~~~~~

Jinyoung rolled on his bed restlessly. As he lied on the small, creaky bed on his back, he held out his phone up high, staring at it until his arms turned sore, until the colours of the ceiling and his phone blend each other out.

Is Mark sleeping? He glanced at the time on his phone screen: 9.00pm. Nah, who sleeps that early?

9.05pm. Then why isn’t he replying?

Jerking up to a sitting position, Jinyoung frantically typed another text.

9.10pm.

Mark .

Jinyoung pouted and hid under his covers. He is an affectionate person, and he could not wait to bond with Mark, especially since he felt a special connection with him, like a premonition that they would become very close friends. Furthermore, that day’s events troubled him; it drove him crazy to think that Mark might still be tormented with his awful encounter with that disgusting ert. It certainly did not help that he had not replied.

~~~~~

Mark stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed. Drying his dripping wet hair with a towel, he instinctively checked his phone. To his surprise, the screen flashed three unread messages. Mark never had people texting him, apart from Mr Park of course, and he never thought he could anticipate three texts in less an hour.

Mark bit his lower lip to stifle a huge smile as he continued reading.

He let out a cute chuckle and scrolled further.

Mark stopped breathing for a second. His cheeks flushed a soft pink.

Markie? Jinyoung called me… Markie?

He was speechless and suddenly felt nervous, as though Jinyoung was standing right in front of him then. While in a futile attempt to contain the heat from spreading to the rest of his face and to control his palpitating heart, Mark dived into his duvet and replied Jinyoung with the most normal tone he could conjure, before waiting anxiously for his reply.

~~~~~

Drowsy and weary, Jinyoung began to drift off to sleep with the phone in his hands. At the moment when his eyelids finally drop, his phone beeped. He jerked up, startled by the sudden sound, hitting his head on the headboard in the process. Wincing, he rubbed the back of his head as he turned his attention back to his blinking phone screen.

Okay, Mark doesn’t hate me. He was… just showering. The vision of Mark in the showers fleeted into Jinyoung’s mind. He could feel his ears turning red as he imagined the sound of the water falling onto the tiles, water drenching the alluring red hair, droplets trickling down the pale, smooth back…

, Jinyoung. What are you thinking about?

Jinyoung shook his head in denial, slapping himself lightly. Without dwelling much on his previous thought, he promptly replied Mark’s text.

What a lame attempt to continue to conversation. Good job, Jinyoung.

The boy tossed and turned so many times, his bed sheet crumpled and his pillow fell to the floor. When the familiar beep sounded, he broke into a smile and fumbled for his phone.

White? Jinyoung made a mental note to remember Mark’s favourite colour, then giving a cheeky grin as his fingers danced on his phone screen.

This time, the reply was almost instantaneous.

Jinyoung laughed out loud, his bright voice echoing in his tiny room. He could imagine Mark blushing furiously while reading the text message, and his heart swelled in joy with the image in mind. Sitting up, he swiftly went back to typing a reply to Mark.

The sounds of night traffic faded away gradually, and the crickets took over the symphony of the night. As the very last street lights flicker into the inky darkness, the stars made their appearance, twinkling aside the smiling moon. Jinyoung knew he would be falling asleep with his phone in his hands tonight.

♥♥♥

Hi everyone! It's a short and uneventful update, I know... But I tried to make it cute ^~^ I haven't really focused on Jinyoung's perspective so here's a chapter for it. I hope you all are enjoying it so far! I like to take things slow and dwell into the details before their relationship goes to the next level, hopefully you guys don't mind that! Thank you for the support! Over 1000 views and almost 100 subscribers (it may not be a lot but it's overwhelming for a first-time author like me)!! 

Keep the comments coming please. :) More comments = more motivation to write hehe.