Youngjae drops into Mark's life as easily as he drops onto his pull-out couch, with some heaping baggage and a smile pretty enough to  war over. Being an L.A. native, he breathes in the scents around like him sweet oxygen; it had never occured to him they weren't everyone else's universe. Youngjae is weird. Death is weird. Pikachu isn't meant to an unnatural sky blue.

Things are learned in the process of domesticating sunshine.

A/N: Just a fill I did for 7fics. Some markjae, my old friend. It's kinda weird and random, but yeah. -Mia ❤

*entered in Shoes of a Unicorn*