Demand
"Leave me alone!" Mark shouted from the rooftop of the building where he and Tom lived. "Do you hear me? I don't want to see you anymore! I don't want to hear you! Leave me alone!"
"Mark?"
Mark jumped back from the edge and almost tripped, startled by Tom's deep baritone. "Yeah?" he squeaked. Tom stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking thoughtful. Mark swallowed hard. He hadn't wanted to have to explain this, but it looked like he had no choice. He opened his mouth to say something. "T-tom, I--"
"Pizza's here," Tom said casually, smiled, and turned to leave. Mark stared after him, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Fist
Maureen traced her fingers over the pale plastered spot on the wall in her and Roger's old room. He'd put his fist through the wall, Mark said, broken one of his fingers. He hadn't told her.
She missed him like hell, but there was nothing she could do. He'd left her. She wasn't going to go begging him to take her back.
But sometimes she really wanted to.
Void
It was burning. Itching. He felt like his blood was going to eat away at his veins and come through his skin, and then he'd be bloodless. He felt like his muscles were being twisted apart, frayed like old rope. And he felt empty. Completely empty, without motive, will, or emotion.
"I just want to die," he whispered hoarsely when Mark came in to check on him.
"I know," Mark said softly, helping him sit up and drink a little water. "But hold on for me, okay?"
"I just want to die," he repeated faintly, before slipping into fever-induced delusions.
Gorgeous
"Okay, I'm ready," Maureen called as she came out of the bathroom. Roger grinned from his seat on the couch.
"It's about time," he said, standing slowly. Maureen wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You look beautiful."
"You can't see me," she reminded him. He kissed her and smiled.
"I don't need to," he said firmly. "You're always beautiful."
"You're such a kiss-ass," Maureen told him, but she smiled happily.