Author's note: Hello all! it's been a really long time since I last Posted chapter fics, and this one is actually a work-in progress, so chapters may come out slow than I like. I'll try to get a new chapter up at least once every week, a lot of parts have been already written out, like the ending, a few parts of the middle, and other scenes. It's tying it all together that has me kind of stuck.

I'm really trying to get to writing again, and what better way to do it than dedicating myself to putting out new material often? I have the first few eleven chapters written out, so I need to finish revisions, and hopefully keep up. I'm not making any serious promises, my hands are going to be full at the moment. My show for crew is seven days, snippets are in six. Im gonna be at rehearsal until almost six pretty much every night, and im gonna have even busier weekends, so please bear with me.

NYPD marker, and a found footage chapter story will be coming up after this one :) please read, and review! your support means a lot!

Sidenote: The title is French. I saw a post once, that displayed the French words "I miss you" looking through more translations, I discover "You are missing FROM me" meaning you're a part of me, and you're gone, and lost, and I don't know what to do. Let those feels sink in.

Mark Pov:

"Rog? come on, it's almost noon!" I cried, while scurrying around, trying unsuccessfully to tidy up the loft before I was to leave. This place is always a mess anyway, no matter how many times I try to make it presentable, it will just slip back to it's normally disheveled state.

For the first time in what seemed like years, I had gotten a job interview at a place I wouldn't mind working. They had seen some of my work, and offered me a position on one of their main reporting teams. It was a lot less sleazier than buzzline, and even though Roger would miss having me home all day, pretty soon he realized how happy it made me, so he instead gave me his full support.

Life seemed to be going fairly well for us. With me about to land this job, and Roger picking up late shifts at the life, we finally had enough money to stock our fridge, and pay Benny occasionally. He hadn't been banging on our door for months, and he even had the human decency to leave on our power, and as an unexpected blessing, our heat.

Hot water was a beautiful thing I had almost forgotten about. I still remember the morning we discovered we had it, for hearing Roger scream with happiness when he took his shower brought bouts of laughter from my throat.

"Mmm…" I heard Roger respond, and I watched him bury his face back into his.. /Our/ bed. We had been together for almost three years, and sharing a sleeping space was a normal practice nowadays, even though half the time I either ended up without covers, or on the floor when my wonderful boyfriend decided to sprawl out in his sleep.

"Do I look okay? where's my scarf? Roger Michael Davis, get! up!" I yelled, becoming even more panicked as I ran into our room. I stopped once I was inside, and I soon noticed how sleepily he was nestled into the covers. My heart melted a little, my current frustration dissipating. Of course I couldn't stay mad at him when he pulled shit like this, it was the reason I had fallen for him in the first place.

"Few more minutes…" he grumbled. I rolled my eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. He was always this way. I still remember all of the days of school he missed, just because he couldn't be bothered to leave the comfort of his blanket. I smirked, stalking slowly over, before I let out an exaggerated groan, and collapsed on top of him. I giggled to myself as I felt him jump, and heard him growl angrily.

"Come on, it's time to wake up… you need to take your AZT and eat… I need you ready by the time I get home.. you didnt forget about our date tonight, did you?" Of course he did, but that didn't really phase me. Roger was kind of scatterbrained sometimes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and leaned down, kissing his cheek.

"Course not…" he lied, rubbing his eyes drowsily, and flashing his famous smirk my way. I nuzzled against him affectionately. A squeak escaped me as he sat up out of nowhere, and tugged me into his grasp. Suddenly, I was the one pinned.

"Rog, no, I have to get read-" I was cut off as his warm lips pressed roughly against my own, sending shivers down my spine. I let out a noise halfway between a grunt, and a moan as he kissed deeper. Once he broke away, I was panting, and dizzy.

"You we're saying?" he asked, giving me an innocent look that was trying to hide his sarcastic smile. I snorted, shoving him off, and attempting to walk away. I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist, and tug me back down. I was about to protest when I felt his hands traveling up and down my ribs, and I screeched with laughter.

"R-o-G!" I gasped, feeling tears well up in my eyes as my noises echoed through the loft. I tried to hold his wrists back, but it was useless. "S-top! I ca-nt breathe!" I yelled, my face red from all my giggling. Finally he stopped, laying on me, and holding tight. Appreciating the air in my lungs once more, I let out a long breath, and kissed his head, my glasses askew.

"Nervous?" he asked, getting up, and giving my hand a squeeze. I nodded, leaning against him. "Don't be…" he traced my jawline. "You'll do just fine… and when you land this job, we'll celebrate tonight.." he leaned forward, kissing me once more.

"I sure hope so…" I blinked, glancing over at the alarm clock above the bed. It read 7:42. Realization hit me like a train, and I jumped, screaming. "FUCK!" Roger was startled, and shot me a questioning look as I tore into the living room, gathering my camera, scarf, and jacket.

"Mark? why-"

I cut him off. "My interview is at eight, and this place is across town!" I grabbed my bike from the wall, and moved towards the door, sliding it open.

"Good luck! I love-" was all I could hear from Roger as the metallic bang cut off our communication. I felt bad, not being able to return the expression, but he would be waiting for me when I got home. Roger loved to do two things when he was bored: Play guitar, and annoy me. With option two out the window, he'd be playing musetta's waltz for awhile.

I managed, somehow, to speed across town in less than ten minutes, and out of breath, I stood in front of the massive building. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I chained up my bike, and took a deep breath, opening the doors, and walking inside.