Supernerd! MARK

22 | a way with words

"But Mark, you heard him. You should lay low for now," I argue, making sure to keep my voice soft despite the lack of customers in the shop. "Plus, you're not even fully healed."

It's true. Almost a week had passed since the incident, but Mark's battle wounds are still apparent on his face. Sure, he does look more attractive with them, but that is a secret I'm taking to my grave.

"It's just weird, don't you think? Two different versions of the same tattoo? Maybe it's a unit, of some sorts?"

I pause at his words as I recall a memory from last week, to which he notices.

"Yena?"

"I think you're right," I murmur. "The day I almost got kidnapped, the guy said something about him getting into trouble with his boss. Do you think the tattoos have something to do with this? Like a hierarchy, maybe?"

Mark's eyes are wide as he takes in my words. "Maybe. We don't know for sure, but it's likely."

I nod, feeling slightly better that this investigation we're holding is at least going somewhere. I eye Mark who has been weirdly quiet, and I know from his face that he's deep in thought. "Mark. You're not gonna do anything stupid, are you?"

"Naah..." he trailed off, stretching his back slightly as he fiddles with his pen, and I know that he's lying.

"Mark," I say again, and he finally meets my eyes before sighing.

"Yena, I need to do this." He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "I can't just go home and do nothing. I'll go insane."

I look away, knowing I would probably crumble under his stare. "What are you planning to do, then?"

"You gave us a lead," Mark explains. "I'm just gonna go find out who else has that tattoo."

"Fine." I pick up my pencil nonchalantly, flipping my psychology textbook open. "So, what is it you don't understand?" I ask, skimming through the paragraph from today's lecture.

"Wait." Mark stares at me. "That's it? You're not gonna say anything else? Wait- are you mad?"

I hold back a sigh before looking back at him, Mark's eyes as wide as saucers as he awaits my reaction. I tilt my head. "I'm not mad. Why would I? I'll be seeing you later tonight."

His lips part as it finally dawns upon him what I meant, and Mark clenches his jaw. "You're not coming with me, Yena," he says sternly.

"I don't want you to go, yet you still are anyways. We can't all get what we want," I say mindlessly, jotting down some bullet points in the margin of my textbook.

My hand stops writing when Mark puts his hand over mine, and I glance up at him.

"I mean it. Don't."

I dare to return his gaze, but it seems like he too doesn't have any plans to look away as he continues to stare at me, his face now all void of the softness that I've gotten used to.

It's clear that Mark is mad, but so am I. Two can play at that game.

The bell at the door chimes, and I'm the first to look away when a customer enters the store. I make my way to stand behind the cash register, ignoring Mark's lingering gaze on the side of my face as I tend to my customer.

He eventually gives up, and I catch a frustrated sigh escaping his lips when he returns his attention back to his notes, though I know that he is far from focused on studying.

The tension between us continues to hang in the air even after my one customer leaves, and I don't bother to say anything until Mark does.

"You can't possibly be mad at me. I still need you to tutor me."

I bite my lip, knowing that it wouldn't take long for me to give in. Curse Mark Lee and his way with words.

He sighs. "Yena, c'mon," he pleads, almost whining, and I shut my eyes momentarily.

"Let's compromise," I say finally, and Mark looks almost thrilled that I'm speaking to him again. "Instead of going out in the field, let's pay Mr. Seo a visit tonight."

"Dude, what good is that gonna do? Without my suit, I'm defenceless," he groans. "Plus, I know you just wanna go there to see his hologram. I saw your face."

"A compromise is a compromise," I say, ignoring his latter comment.

"Hardly a compromise if I don't get a say in it," Mark mutters under his breath as he turns to his worksheets, but I catch it loud and clear.

I throw an eraser at him. "Do you want me to tutor you or not?"

"Fine," he mumbles begrudgingly. With his eyes trained on his notes, Mark raises his left hand to caress my cheek lazily with his thumb, signalling that he understood.

Even with his head facing down, I don't miss the slight pout on his lips, letting me know that he's unhappy with the decision. Despite my skin burning in the wake of his touch, I almost scoff in annoyance at his behaviour.

What a child.