chapter 3.3

*this chapter contains a scene of the beginnings of borderline harrassment (but nothing actually happens). reader discretion is advised*

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the 'Sheep' lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables turn as you approach the rickety front porch on purpose. You cling to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolts through your bones.

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna's arm tightens as unfamiliar faces surround you. The crowded room stinks of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol are visible from where you stand. Heads turn to stare at Yuna while the two of you enter.

What am I doing here again?

"Hey, you made it!," an unfamiliar voice shouts from over the ruckus. Your eyes fall nervously on the voice's owner. He has dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent is strange and you can't quite put your finger on it.

"Hey!". Yuna brings the stranger in for a loose hug. "Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as 'the sheep'. He's from Germany".

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug.

"Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark's told me all about you," Yangyang smirks, "please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong".

"Woo! Let's get wasted!" Yuna yells while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stand awkwardly at her side as she pours both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

"Hey," a deep voice right next to your ear wrecks your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes are met with the middle of a chest as you turn around to see its owner. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair peers back down at you. You wince at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looks young, maybe even younger than you, but he is clearly very drunk. "Where have you been all my life?".

"Excuse me?," you exclaim over the booming music. The boy places his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people.

"I'm Sungchan," the boy unwelcomingly introduces, "what's your name, beautiful?".

"I-uh I'm y/n," you stutter. Sungchan's face is way too close for comfort and his breath stinks of cheap alcohol. You feel his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fight not to gag.

"Y/n. You come here with anyone?". You press your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there is little room to go. Fear begins to set in as you realize you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

"I-I..."

"She came here with me". A firm hand grips Sungchan's left arm and yanks it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what is happening, you look up to see that it's Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down.

"C-captain"

"What's a freshman doing with my girl?" Mark presses. His eyes cut into the younger boy.

Your heart trembles at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushes a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this.

"I didn't know, I-"

"Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?," Mark interrupts, eyebrows raised in annoyance. Sungchan's eyes go wide. He holds both hands up innocently.

"Y-yes I-"

"Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I'll be senior captain next year so I'll have a say in who makes it into varsity".

"I'm sorry, captain, I really didn't-"

"Fuck off". Mark gestures his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looks around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers dance and drink on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they will be going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy's head clears enough to make a decision. Sungchan bows slightly in apology and stumbles towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzes in your shaking hands.

"Are you okay?". Mark faces you with a concerned look.

You clench your grip tighter around your drink as you fight back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

"Do you want to get out of here?".

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste- all of Yuna's hard work down the drain. Mark nudges you forward and guides you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greets his friends with a "hey" or a simple nod. You can feel a few girls eye you discontentedly from the sight of Mark's hand ghosting over the small of your back. Others remain too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomes you as Mark urges you outside. You rush to escape the cramped house. He shuts the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn't see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure.

"Thanks for that". You manage to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice is slightly hoarse and you can't quite meet his eyes, but he waits patiently by your side.

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks you're a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake.

"I think I'll go. Sorry I can't stay". You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

"Wait-". Mark's voice halts your departure. "Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don't want you going out alone after what just happened...".

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glows behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shine with worry as he scans over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier begins to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounds like what you really need. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing takes over as the two of you walk farther away from the booming music of the party. You aren't sure where you're headed, but you also don't know if there's anywhere you want to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark follows you patiently as he waits for you to be ready to talk. Before you know it, your feet bring you to the lake and you stand watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminates silver each ebb and flow.

"I'm sorry you're missing the party". You quietly break the silence. You feel bad for making him leave. All of his friends are there and he probably really looked forward to it.

"Don't be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways"

You stare at him in surprise. Mark's eyes remain glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

"How many girls have you told that to?," you scoff playfully. Internally, you scream.

"Couldn't name another one"

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirm that he's following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It's cool despite the summer season. A breeze rolls by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top is, it doesn't do anything to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

"Here, take this". Mark unzips his jacket to give to you.

"Oh it's ok-". You couldn't finish your protest before the warm fabric is draped across your shoulders. Your face grows pink once more. If you didn't know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you've been blushing recently. "Thanks," you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile.

"Is that Frankie's?". Mark's voice cuts through the silence.

"What?"

"Is that Frankie's?," Mark repeats, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looks as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a lone, tired waitress scrubs away at a table. Only one car, probably her's, remains in the parking lot.

"Oh, yeah. That's where I work part time," you confirm. "I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think".

"I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too"

Mark's sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it shows on your face.

"What, you don't believe me?" Mark feigns hurt, putting a hand on his chest. "Do you think hockey guys can't have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven's sake!".

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry.

"And that's a bad thing? Don't you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls". You raise an eyebrow, teasing him.

"As if," Mark runs a stressed hand through his hair, "they're all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention".

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you'd hate being the subject of their affections too.

"But how about you," Mark continues, "I haven't seen you much at parties".

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "if you couldn't tell from tonight, I'm not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party". You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan's intoxicated face.

"Hey" Mark's hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. "I'll never let him bother you again".

While you were unsure of how your makeup is holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features are all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you're sitting, knees almost brushing against each other's and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you are in possession of his jacket, leaving with only a tee shirt, you are sure you aren't imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest.

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you feel undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would've been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him is familiar to you now and you trust in his words. He's someone... safe.

"Really?," you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips.

"Really". His confirmation is too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips and you understand.

Before you know it, you're leaning in, just enough so you know you aren't imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you're okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. "Can I kiss you?".

You can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounds rapidly as you give an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket causes your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark lets go of you in surprise. Your phone keeps buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burns red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

"Hello?". You make sure your tone is laced with annoyance.

"Y/n! Where aare youu?," Yuna slurs. Trap music blares in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You can hear Ten asking if Mark is with you over the ruckus.

"I left. And yeah, Mark is here". You put the phone on speaker and hold it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago.

"Hey guys," Mark says sheepishly. Yuna squeals in delight.

"That's my boy!". Ten's booming voice took over the call.

"Stop it man," Mark warns, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

"Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun, well, actually-". Yuna giggles into the microphone.

"I'm hanging up," you say quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you aren't sure you can resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensues, both parties unsure of what to do next. Is there anything you could do to save the moment after that?

"I uh...," you start.

"Yeah umm...," Mark agrees. Silence again.

"Uhh...". Your steady tone wavers as you start to giggle. The awkwardness dissipates because before you knew it, both of you laugh wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation.

"Yuna tends to have great timing," you explain.

"Mm. Ten does too," Mark relates, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply.

"She said she wouldn't leave me at the party but lo and behold". You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

"That sucks," Mark agrees, "you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually".

"I was going to," you pick at the zipper of his jacket, "but we had just gotten there when... you know".

"Yeah. You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready. I don't want to pressure you at all, but I'm always willing to listen"

"You're," you look for the right words, "you're so amazing".

"Yeah?"

You keep your gaze in your lap, "Yeah. And you know, I wish we'd met earlier, Mark. Because it's really nice talking to you and you're a really great guy". You check for his reaction.

"Yeah, I wish we met sooner too". His expression is that of... adoration.

Being with Mark is so darn easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada.

The night rushed by and the two of you relished in stories until the golden peaks of sunrise paint the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight casts a warm glow over Mark's face. He looks like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

"Um so, I guess it's Sunday now". Mark rests his chin into the crook of his elbow. You can sense the tired in his voice, but you mutually understand that neither of you want to leave.

"Do you have to go?". You pick at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you are still wearing. The disappointment comes evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it feels like you've just barely scratched the surface. There's still so much more you want to talk about.

Checking his watch, Mark contemplates for a bit.

"It's 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30," Mark explains.

"So early?"

"Yeah it's... you could come with me if you want?". His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tint gold with the rising sun. As fatigued as you feel, everything in you wants to accept his invitation. Not so deep down, you know you have to. You crack a small smile and get up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

"Lead the way"

...

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you..."

Mark's expression is worried as the two of you stand at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets are starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spots you, jogging out to give his greetings.

"Mark!," the man calls out as he pulls the tired boy in for a warm hug, "good morning!".

The stranger turns towards you and Mark moves to do introductions.

"Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless before service," Mark discloses.

"Nice to meet you, Daniel". You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn't even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark's oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff.

"Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a... friend here". Daniel's eyes dart between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

"Yeah," Mark coughs, turning to you, "do you want me to take you home? This probably isn't what you expected I don't know why I-"

"No," you interrupt quickly, "I'd like to stay and help, if that's okay". Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you are being serious.

"Great! Mark can show you around and get you started," Daniel claps before heading inside.

"You're kind of awesome, you know that?". Mark's question catches you off guard. He slips his hand into yours to lead you into the building. The simple action sends your heart into a complete frenzy.

"Awesome how?"

"Just... awesome," Mark clarifies cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

"Alright, I'll take the compliment," you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

"You keep it. I like it a lot better on you"

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I'm going to catch on fire.

You desperately put out the internal flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you are already wearing.

"So anyways," Mark continues as if he didn't just say the most romantic thing you've heard in your life, "the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them".

"Got it"

"Here, let me get this for you". His hand guides your waist to spin you around. He pulls an apron swiftly over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he'd kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He's leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

"I swear to God, I'm throwing away my phone". Mark runs a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. "Hello?". You sigh.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panics through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words "car" and "hospital". Mark paces back and forth.

"Alright, I got it. Yeah, she's with me. I'll tell her. We'll come right now. Don't worry, Ten, she's going to be fine"

"What is it?," you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

"It's Yuna...," Mark trails off, shocked by the news. Your heart drops down to your feet.

"What about Yuna?" Your voice shakes with panic.

"She-she was in a car accident. She's at the hospital right now"