Disclaimers and summary on first chapter
Notes: I'm really sorry for the long absence but there is very good news. No more disappearances after this, I had my compy fixed (which was why I was gone) and now my internet works all good again. I typed these two chapters up real quick once I got it back, I'll try to get some more done over the weekend. Once again I'm sorry, but I promise I'll be back to my usual spastic updates in no time.
Chapter 12 -We Can Still Be Friends-
+Mark's POV+
I look up at my house as Roger turns the car off. He looks over at me and smiles.
"I don't think you should come in."
His eyes narrow slightly, but he's still smiling, though with less enthusiasm.
"Why not?"
It'll be impossible to argue with him. I shake my head and start to get out of the car.
"Nevermind. What am I getting?"
"Clothes, anything else you need on a daily basis."
I open the door cautiously. There's no noise coming from anywhere in the house. Is it possible no one's home? I couldn't be that lucky. I go into the kitchen, my mother's favorite room, but it's empty.
"Is anyone here?"
"I don't think so." I tell him. I point toward the stairs. "My room is up there."
He nods and follows me when I start to climb them. I pause outside my door for a moment, then sigh and push it open. He follows me in. I watch him look around, then he sits on my bed. He's looking at his shoes, his mood a little more somber.
"What's wrong?" I ask him as I open my closet. He's quiet for a moment and then he answers.
"Does your family have a lot of money?"
I turn to face him.
"Does it matter?"
He shrugs. "Not really, it's just weird." He looks around my room again, then up at me. "Your rooms so clean."
I smile. "Yeah, it's kind of a rule. You should see my sister's, it's even worse."
He laughs and lies back on my bed.
"Is your sister a bitch?"
"She can be. She doesn't understand what it's like to not be perfect."
He makes a face.
"I hate people like that."
I laugh. "You are a person like that."
He sits up. "Why do you think that?"
I turn away. "Nevermind."
He comes over to me and grabs my arm. "No. Why do you think that?"
I push him off. "What don't you have going for you? You're a great musician, you have so much talent. People love you once you start talking to them, you're handsome, I bet you've had more girlfriends than you even remember, I bet. . ."
He cuts me off, touching my arm gently.
"You think I'm handsome?"
I back up into the wall. The way he's looking at me is different than usual. There's something in his eyes that makes me uncomfortable. He looks almost hopeful.
"I, uh, I guess. . ."
"I really haven't had many girlfriends. . ."
Why is he telling me this?
His face is getting dangerously close to mine.
"Roger. . ."
"What?" His voice is soft, his other hand moving up to touch my face.
"I'm, I'm not gay." I try to gently push him away from me. He relents and backs up, he looks horrified.
"I had, I had hoped when you said you weren't interested in Maureen. . ."
Yes, Maureen. She's pretty, she's very pretty. Straight. You can recognize that. Straight.
"I mean, not that I thought you were. . . I'm not, I just. . ." He starts to move back more, lowering his head.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, his eyes on the ground. He's turning around, heading for my door. I can't let him go now. I remember the pleasant, contented feeling I get when he smiles at me, how he doesn't seem to notice the fact that I hate anyone and anything around me. I stop him before he leaves.
"Wait." I cautiously grab his shoulder and he slowly turns around.
"It's alright, I mean, we can still be friends, right?" My voice is high and embarrassingly needy. He smiles, his demeanor taking on one of relief.
"Yeah. Yeah we can."
"C'mon, it's fine." I pull him back into my room and he goes back to my bed and I go to my closet.
"So what are we doing in the city?" I look back at him when he doesn't answer.
He shrugs. "That's the fun, we don't know."
I roll my eyes and grab a couple of shirts. I open a drawer and take out a pair of jeans. That'll be fine for a day or two or whatever.
I dump my backpack out onto the floor and shove the contents under the bed. I throw the clothes in it and I hear Roger laugh.
"You're just a mess like me. Forced into anal retentiveness."
I grin at him. "I'm better than you."
"Few people aren't."
I laugh and go to the bathroom to get toothpaste. He follows me.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting toothpaste."
He raises an eyebrow, and grins mockingly. I punch him in the arm.
"Well with that attitude no one's gonna wanna kiss you."
His eyebrows go up in shock for a moment, then he laughs. It's loud and genuine and the best sound I've heard in a long time. His power over me is frightening. I go back to my room and throw the paste and the brush in my bag.
On our way out I leave a note on the table saying I'm staying with a friend and would call later. I know they'll be furious but at the moment I don't particularly care.
Notes: I'm really sorry for the long absence but there is very good news. No more disappearances after this, I had my compy fixed (which was why I was gone) and now my internet works all good again. I typed these two chapters up real quick once I got it back, I'll try to get some more done over the weekend. Once again I'm sorry, but I promise I'll be back to my usual spastic updates in no time.
Chapter 12 -We Can Still Be Friends-
+Mark's POV+
I look up at my house as Roger turns the car off. He looks over at me and smiles.
"I don't think you should come in."
His eyes narrow slightly, but he's still smiling, though with less enthusiasm.
"Why not?"
It'll be impossible to argue with him. I shake my head and start to get out of the car.
"Nevermind. What am I getting?"
"Clothes, anything else you need on a daily basis."
I open the door cautiously. There's no noise coming from anywhere in the house. Is it possible no one's home? I couldn't be that lucky. I go into the kitchen, my mother's favorite room, but it's empty.
"Is anyone here?"
"I don't think so." I tell him. I point toward the stairs. "My room is up there."
He nods and follows me when I start to climb them. I pause outside my door for a moment, then sigh and push it open. He follows me in. I watch him look around, then he sits on my bed. He's looking at his shoes, his mood a little more somber.
"What's wrong?" I ask him as I open my closet. He's quiet for a moment and then he answers.
"Does your family have a lot of money?"
I turn to face him.
"Does it matter?"
He shrugs. "Not really, it's just weird." He looks around my room again, then up at me. "Your rooms so clean."
I smile. "Yeah, it's kind of a rule. You should see my sister's, it's even worse."
He laughs and lies back on my bed.
"Is your sister a bitch?"
"She can be. She doesn't understand what it's like to not be perfect."
He makes a face.
"I hate people like that."
I laugh. "You are a person like that."
He sits up. "Why do you think that?"
I turn away. "Nevermind."
He comes over to me and grabs my arm. "No. Why do you think that?"
I push him off. "What don't you have going for you? You're a great musician, you have so much talent. People love you once you start talking to them, you're handsome, I bet you've had more girlfriends than you even remember, I bet. . ."
He cuts me off, touching my arm gently.
"You think I'm handsome?"
I back up into the wall. The way he's looking at me is different than usual. There's something in his eyes that makes me uncomfortable. He looks almost hopeful.
"I, uh, I guess. . ."
"I really haven't had many girlfriends. . ."
Why is he telling me this?
His face is getting dangerously close to mine.
"Roger. . ."
"What?" His voice is soft, his other hand moving up to touch my face.
"I'm, I'm not gay." I try to gently push him away from me. He relents and backs up, he looks horrified.
"I had, I had hoped when you said you weren't interested in Maureen. . ."
Yes, Maureen. She's pretty, she's very pretty. Straight. You can recognize that. Straight.
"I mean, not that I thought you were. . . I'm not, I just. . ." He starts to move back more, lowering his head.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, his eyes on the ground. He's turning around, heading for my door. I can't let him go now. I remember the pleasant, contented feeling I get when he smiles at me, how he doesn't seem to notice the fact that I hate anyone and anything around me. I stop him before he leaves.
"Wait." I cautiously grab his shoulder and he slowly turns around.
"It's alright, I mean, we can still be friends, right?" My voice is high and embarrassingly needy. He smiles, his demeanor taking on one of relief.
"Yeah. Yeah we can."
"C'mon, it's fine." I pull him back into my room and he goes back to my bed and I go to my closet.
"So what are we doing in the city?" I look back at him when he doesn't answer.
He shrugs. "That's the fun, we don't know."
I roll my eyes and grab a couple of shirts. I open a drawer and take out a pair of jeans. That'll be fine for a day or two or whatever.
I dump my backpack out onto the floor and shove the contents under the bed. I throw the clothes in it and I hear Roger laugh.
"You're just a mess like me. Forced into anal retentiveness."
I grin at him. "I'm better than you."
"Few people aren't."
I laugh and go to the bathroom to get toothpaste. He follows me.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting toothpaste."
He raises an eyebrow, and grins mockingly. I punch him in the arm.
"Well with that attitude no one's gonna wanna kiss you."
His eyebrows go up in shock for a moment, then he laughs. It's loud and genuine and the best sound I've heard in a long time. His power over me is frightening. I go back to my room and throw the paste and the brush in my bag.
On our way out I leave a note on the table saying I'm staying with a friend and would call later. I know they'll be furious but at the moment I don't particularly care.