《Flower Crown》6
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tysm for 100+ reads :,) this chapter is longer bc of you guys
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"Jack?"
The pastel quickly set down the journal, the picture of Mark securely tucked inside. He watched the punk stomp over to him, an angry look on his face.
A pair of hands wrapped around the collar of Jack's sweatshirt, and he was lifted up in to the air.
"What the fuck were you doing with that? Why were you going through my stuff?" Mark growled, his eyes cold and empty. Jack stuttered to get something out, but nothing came. Mark threw him down on the bed, making sure to not hurt his precious little flower.
"Mark I-I-I," Jack tried again, but still nothing. He watched the punk grab the journal and threw it aside. His right knee rested between Jack's leg, and his other on the left side. Mark's hands came down on either side of Jack's face, and he looked down at the frightened boy.
"Did you read anything in there?" Mark asked, his breath tickling Jack's ear. The pastel swallowed harshly, his whole body hot from embarrassment and nervousness.
"N-no?" Jack said, the tone of his voice stating it more as a question than anything else. Mark looked at Jack straight in the eyes, their noses barely touching and their lips, only a mere inch from eachother.
Mark wanted to kiss Jack so badly. He wanted to feel what it was like to kiss another male. He wanted to see if his lips were as soft as his heart. Mark wanted to feel Jack kiss him back with the same passion he had.
"Mark," Jack whispered, his eyes half lidded, looking back and forth from Mark's eyes to his lips. He could feel the sparks bewtween them, the energy they had now was enough to power Tokyo, or so it seemed.
"What?" Mark replied, his voice a lot softer than usual. He too, felt himself start to close his eyes. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he was sure Jack could hear it.
"Kiss me."
-Time Skip-
Mark walked into class, his mind clogged and groggy. He wasn't in the mood for anyone's bullshit, he just wanted to sleep. But, since it was a math class, and it was the hardest class he had, he payed attention.
The teacher talked about useless equations and definitions for things Mark wouldn't need later on in life. He mentally groaned, checking the clock every minute, his leg bouncing up and down to the point where it could cause an earthquake.
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"Mark?" the teacher asked, her voice having to be a little louder than usual since the punk sat in the very back. "Are you alright? You seem out of it today. Every question I've asked you, it's like you weren't paying attention."
To even her comment, Mark wasn't listening. He was too focused on the events that happened earlier that morning. Too focused on what did happen, and what could have happened.
"I'm sorry... my uh... grandmother passed away yesterday, so I guess I'm still a little saddened about it," Mark lied. His grandmother passed years ago, but she didn't need to know that.
"Well, why don't you go back to your dorm and rest? I'll email you the assignment for next Monday. Have a great weekend, and don't forget, finals are next Friday!"
Mark looked around, the whole class staring at him as if he had killed somebody and forgot to clean himself off. He packed his things, and walked out of the room, silently thanking the teacher.
His first stop was the dorms, so he could drop his stuff off and refresh himself. The walk from classes to the dorms was only about ten minutes, and Mark was thankful it wasn't raining like it had been the past four days.
He made it, eventually, and opened the door to his room. There sat Jack, his back faced towards the door, hunched over what seemed to be his sketch book. His ears were blocked from his headphone blaring music, which sounded like a Chase Atlantic song
Mark set his stuff down gently, and scanned over the boy before walking into the bathroom. He shut the door, and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes had bags under them, and they were bloodshot. He could tell in his stomach was gaining weight, seeing as he had been doing a lot more drinking than training.
He sighed heavily, and splashed his face with cold water. His body felt like it could collapse at any second, so he exited the bathroom and flopped onto his bed.
Jack noticed Mark was home, and looked over at him. Sympathy and hurt pained his chest, and he winced at the feeling. He took out his earbuds and paused his music. Mark was, well sounded like, crying. Jack clenched his jaws together, and stood up.
He sat on the edge of Mark's bed, and rest a hand on his back. Mark looked up at him, his cheeks wet from the tears, his eyes red and puffy as well.
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"Mark..." Jack sighed, clicking his tongue and looking away. "Why're you crying?"
Mark turned fully around, and sat up next to Jack. He looked at him dead in the eyes, and smiled softly.
"I'm a fucking jerk," Mark replied, looked down at his hands.
"Yeah you are," Jack mumbled, scooting away from Mark a bit seeing as it was too close for his comfort. "Why the fuck would you say that to me? I knew what you were thinking, and I you were going to do it. But instead, you called me a fucking faggot and slapped me in the face."
Mark cringed as he remembered his actions clearly.
"Kiss me."
Mark frowned and pulled away. He readied his hand for a slap, and saw Jack's face turn from love to fear.
"You're a fucking faggot flower boy. Why would I ever want to kiss you?" Mark sneered, and proceeded to slap Jack across the cheek.
Jack had a tear in his eye, threatening to escape and crash in his lap. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a choked inhale.
"I'm so sor-"
"I know you like me Mark," Jack croaked, the tears now coming out one by one. "I lied about reading your journal. I know you have feelings for me, you're just too fucking chicken to admit it."
Mark bit his tongue, holding back from a snarky reply. Instead, he stood up and looked down at Jack. The cute flowr boy ripped Mark's ego into pieces, and he fell hard all over again.
"Maybe I was too chicken to admit it. You can't blame me though. I was always raised that boys should love girls, and vice versa. The feelings I had--have are new. I don't know how to go about them, and what I'm supposed to say."
"You could've fucking kissed me!" Jack yelled, standing up now too. His fists were balled up, the once sad tears now replaced with angry ones. "You could've just admitted to your feelings and told me! You could've asked how to deal with your sexuality! You could've fucking kissed me! But instead, you call me a faggot and proceed to slap me in the face."
Mark grew angry now too, taking a daring step towards Jack. His body towered the Irishman, and it scared Jack. Mark's eyes were hurt filled and saddened. The veins popped out of his arms, like they usually do when he's upset or he's working out.
"Well maybe I did those things because that was my way of coping with these new feelings!" Mark fought back, taking another step foward. Their chests were only about six inches away, enough for either of them to end the anger wars with a kiss.
Jack cried harder, and punched Mark in the chest. It didn't hurt the punk, and he understood why Jack did it. Then he threw another one, and another one, and another one, until Jack was crying and yelling and screaming so hard, Mark couldn't hear himself think.
"Jack, Jack, JACK!" Mark yelled, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, trying to calm him down.
"Don't you 'J...Jack' me! You caused this! You!!! You!" Jack struggled against Mark's grip, trying to break free so he could continue to throw a fit.
They stood there for five more minutes, and Jack had calmed down enough to where Mark could think. He put his forehead against Jack's, and looked him in the eyes. Their breathing was heavy, but that didn't stop them from giving eachother a much needed kiss.
Mark was the first to move, then Jack. Their lips smashed into one another's, the feeling they both longtime felt finally coming true.
It was exactly how Mark thought it would be. It felt right. It felt like he was supposed to be kissing Jack at this moment, and it was always supposed to be him. His soft lips against Mark's rough ones. That's how it was supposed to be from the beginning.
They pulled away, Mark and Jack's breathing heavier than it was before. Mark's hands had somehow found their way on Jack's hips, and Jack's hands, around Mark's neck.
"I'm so sorry Jack. I'm so sorry for not-"
Jack kissed him again, not wanting to talk at the moment, but to finally be in eachothers presence. To be in eachothers arms, holding one another until the end of eternity, or until their arms fell off. To be connected by the lips, and by the hearts, forever and always.
To be not two, but one.
SIKE! You thought it was the end!! Oh nonono this emotional roller coaster has only begun!
When I started this chapter, this book was at 100 reads, and now it's at 125 :,) Omega oof, thank you all so much for your love and support. It really means a lot to me, and I hope you guys are enjoying this book as I am writing it!
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8 203you don't deserve a hate
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