Yeah. This was written in about twenty minutes at around six-thirty in the morning a few nights ago, when I was just heading to bed. :
I don't own RENT, no I don't. Nor do I own the line from the play at the end.
Sixteen year old Mark Cohen sat on a swing in the empty park. It was eleven o'clock, Wednesday night, and as far as his parents knew, he was safe at Roger Davis's house. Kicking his feet lightly, he stared at the ground.
He didn't notice anyone coming, and didn't notice anyone sitting down next to him. Until they spoke up.
"Always come to the park at this hour?"
Mark jumped and looked up to see Maureen Johnson, smiling at him. He smiled back, metallic braces sparkling, and shook his head.
"Just needed to clear my head," he said softly, looking down at his Converse-clad feet.
"I know how that is," she murmured, running her hand through her soft brown curls. "Your parents let you out of the house at this hour?" She blinked, rembering that Mark's parents were actually rather scrict about his curfew on school nights.
"They think I'm at Roger's," he said softly, still kicking his feet back and forth.
"Ahh, Marky's gettin' a little sneaky," she teased him, nudging him gently.
He shrugged a little. "Not usually. I just needed to get out of the house.."
They sat in silence for a while, an occasional squeak coming from one of the swings. Mark was the first to break the silence, looking up at Maureen shyly.
"Maureen..?"
"Yeah, Mark?" She blinked, looking at the ground.
"Do you.. ever think about.." A light blush crossed his face, and he put his head back down. "Love?"
"Of course, Mark," she answered, as though it were obvious. "Why?"
"Just curious." He shook his head. "Do you ever.. just, wonder if anyone likes you?"
Maureen looked up at Mark, seeing his head down, and gently placed her hand on his arm.
"Mark?"
Nervously, he looked up at her, blue eyes shy behind his glasses.
"Is there something you're trying to tell me?"
Mark bit his lip and looked down, then back up at Maureen. "Is it that obvious?"
She smiled. "Just a bit."
He blushed, looking back down again. "I'm sorry.. I meant to say something about it earlier, but I didn't know how you'd react."
Moving off the swing, she kneeled in front of Mark and cupped his face in her hands gently, tilting it so they could see eye-to-eye.
"Relax, it's okay," she smiled warmly. "I like you, too."
A smile came to his face. "Really?"
She leaned in and kissed him softly. "Really."
He moved his hands to gently hold her wrists. "So.. does this mean we're.. a thing?"
"Marky," she smiled. "We're everything."
Written in about twenty minutes. I like it better than my last one.