Don't own Rent, wish I did, we all do, but we don't. Sucks for us.
Damn, guess who is on one-shot drugs? Me! Huzzah! Two one-shots in an hour. Well, this one really didn't need work. I'm writing a story, with different characters, and I took those characters' names out and replaced them. So it's another Mark/Maureen, told from Maureen, because she is the only one who would do this. Read and Review please! Oh, and it's not sad!
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I rolled over on the couch later that night. Damn, this thing is uncomfortable. I threw the covers off me, and wiped my forehead. I put my feet on the floor, and moved quietly towards the kitchen. Careful not to wake Mark or Roger. Roger was sleeping on his bed, with a beer bottle still in hand, and I couldn't see Mark.
I got into the kitchen, and looked at the clock. 3:48. Damn it. It seems like at three o'clock in the morning, the world is silent and no one moves. It's the only time where everyone is asleep. And if they aren't asleep, they are quiet. It was silent at three, and I liked it.
I grabbed the only box of cereal we had and I poured a bowl of Lucky Charms. I watched as the magic rainbows, pots of gold, and giant red balloons spilled into my bowl. The cereal was me, complex, and yet simple. I tasted and looked sweet on the outside, like the marshmallows, but on the inside, I was bitter tasting, like the oat parts. I grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator, the Soy Milk that I only drank, and I poured it into the bowl. Milk. Mark. Mark was like the milk, mixing the bitter parts of me with the sweet parts.
Without milk, cereal is just dried wheat. It tastes disgusting, but with milk, it was complete. I was the cereal, needing to be complete, and Mark was the milk, completing me.
I took a bit of the cereal, the cold marshmallows and oat in my mouth, and I sighed. Good, that was how it tasted when things are complete. They taste good. Like Lucky Charms with milk. All the sweetness was mixed together, perfect. That was what we were together, perfect. After I swallowed the cereal, I looked down at it, not wanting to eat it anymore. I would disturb the balance of perfection.
I saw the door open, and Mark came in. He looked at me, while I was staring at the cereal bowl.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Watching."
"Why aren't you eating it?" he asked.
"Because it's perfect, and it lives," I said. I wiped my eyes, acting like there were tears in them. He looked at me, confused.
"Cereal lives?"
"Yes, it lives, see, it moves, its breathing," I said. I gestured for Mark to come over to me, and he looked at me like I was insane.
"I'll pass," he said.
"No, come look at it!" I demanded. Mark came around to me, and looked at the cereal.
"It looks like cereal," he said.
"No, watch it for just a moment," I said to him. We stood up silence for a moment. I watched the marshmallows swirl in the soy milk, and the oat bits bump into them.
"Still the same."
"No, sit down where I am," I said to him. I stood up, and shoved him down. We stood there for a moment watching the cereal.
"Don't see it."
"No, watch it. Don't you see? See the marshmallows swirl and how the milk blends the sweetness with the bitterness? It makes it perfect. Without the milk, cereal isn't cereal," I said. Mark looked up at me.
"Sure, I get it," he said quickly. Too quickly, and I knew that he was saying it to make me leave him alone.
"No Mark, look at the cereal," I said. I came around him, my breasts pressed against Mark's back. I grabbed his hand, and pulled his index finger out, mine against his. I dipped our fingers into the milk, and then I placed it near his mouth, to where it touched his lips. A creepy feeling went up my spine, the hairs on the back of neck stood up. I slowly found my finger, I mean, our fingers into his mouth, and pressed them against his tongue. "Lick it," I said. Mark obeyed, and he tasted it. He closed his eyes.
"It lives."
"See, doesn't it live?" I said to him. I looked down at him, and he was staring at the cereal.
"That's really good cereal. What is it called?"
"Lucky Charms," I said. He smiled at me. "See? We are all like cereal. We just need someone to be the milk, to perfect us," I said to him. I realized that I was still holding his hand, and I could tell he noticed it, since he stiffened. I pressed my cheek against his, and nuzzled with him, still holding his hand.
We are all like Lucky Charms though, we just need milk. We need that one person to complete us.
And Mark was that person to me.
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And I owe something to Scarfy. I stole your Lucky Charms when I read it last night. To you, my love (lol, jk jk)