MARK IS SO >!<q>!<@?>~? - Tumblr Posts

20:24 // ❥ new alert! // mark, the sweetest boy alive

“look, i told you,” jeno says, shoving his phone in your face as he points aggressively at the picture he had taken a few hours ago. “there are eighteen of them, look!” he repeats, finger shifting about the screen in an attempt to point out all eighteen statues he was referring to.

“you missed four out,” you sigh, putting your chopsticks down. “i think i got a picture,” you mumble, entering your gallery, scrolling through the photos in search of the one that would prove jeno wrong. he inhales another spoonful of rice, commenting, “you can’t find it, right? because it doesn’t exist?”

you roll your eyes, trying your best to recall when it was that you had taken the photo. you jump in excitement when it hits you - you had taken it on your boyfriend’s phone.

“babe?” you call out, reaching out for mark’s phone and unlocking it swiftly. “is it okay if i scroll through your gallery? i need to find the photo of the statues we took last fall,” you continue, peeping over at mark who was still busy doing the dishes.

“sure,” he replies, giving you the green light. you enter his gallery, scrolling in a hurry, deadset on proving jeno wrong.

jeno waits for a few moments, but instead of a retort, he notices your halted thumb, and your quirked brow. he doesn’t want to intrude mark’s privacy, so instead of just looking over at whatever that is on the screen that has caught your attention, he asks, “what’s wrong?”

in your hurry, you had accidentally scrolled way past last fall. instead, you have entered (probably) summer of two years ago. you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen, shifting your gaze to return jeno’s, with, “what are these?”

you turn the screen to face jeno. he takes a glance, before stuffing down another spoonful of rice, with a nonchalant, “mark’s aglio olio.”

you already knew that. mark’s aglio olio. mark’s signature aglio olio that you have engraved in the deep depths of your heart. it was the first dish he made for you, seven months into your relationship after the one time you had casually remarked that it’s sweet to be surprised with a homecooked meal. you’d never even imagined mark would surprise you with one, given the known fact that he isn’t the most talented in the kitchen.

but he proved you wrong.

the real question is, why are there more than twenty pictures of the same aglio olio that you had only had once?

“why are there so many pictures of it? with so many different plating styles?” you question, clicking into the first photo, then swiping left to look through the rest of them. looking through the pictures this way makes it look like they’re a bunch of progression photos. as though every new picture, was an improved dish or plating style from the last.

“oh,” renjun exclaims, taking a sip of water. “we ate that for a whole month,” he states, faking a shiver. “yeah, we swore off italian for the longest time after that,” jeno adds on, making a disgusted face.

you can’t help the smile that brightens your features when the realisation dawns upon you.

mark had been practising to make sure it was the perfect aglio olio.

you get up, making your way to the kitchen. as you approach the familiar back view of your boyfriend, your smile only tugs wider. you snake your arms around his waist, pulling him close as you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade.

you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks gently with, “why? bored of the guys?”

you take in his scent, shaking your head. “no, i just wanted to tell you i love you,” you gush, pressing your lips against his shoulder.

he turns off the tap, wipes his hands down with a dry towel, then turns around and rests his arms around your waist. “suddenly?” he says, raising a brow.

“i love you,” you repeat, your heart oozing with nothing but love and affection for the boy in front of you.

“i love you too,” he reciprocates, pressing a kiss to your forehead.