You Can Trust Me - A Markiplier Fanfic

        I've never been happier to be sweaty.

        So it was hot.  Too hot for a sweater.  Portland and Seattle's summers could never have prepared me for L.A. in the Fall.  But in a way, it was refreshing.  I was sure I'd miss the rain, but maybe I'd get a good tan for once.  Being so pale made it difficult to buy makeup.  And wearing a swimsuit would basically blind passersby, as my best friend James so kindly put it.

        Oh, well.  I'll just have to sunbathe a few times on my days off. I'll fit in with the locals in no time.  Lying in the sun with a good book actually sounded like a dream.  The stress of travelling so suddenly left a certain uneasy feeling in my gut, but it was overwhelmed by the excitement of a fresh start.  The taxi from the airport slowly wormed its way through traffic to bring me to my new apartment complex.  After a quick visit with the front office, I was on my way to my new life.  With the preparation I'd done in advance, I managed to land this decent dwelling and hide away enough money to pay the first years rent.  It's amazing what you can do putting away a few twenties with every paycheck when you're looking for a way out.  And my way out took over two years... But that's over now.

        I took my purse and suitcase up the stairs to the third floor, where few people were living.  Noise complaints, they said. Apparently there was a man who did a lot of shouting, and an old woman near the stairs in the room farthest from his. Which in a way was a relief.  Meeting new people made me nervous.  And honestly, I was worried that I would be the noisy one, with all the music and video games I play.  I guess I'll at least have one friend here.

        When I finally made it to my door, I awkwardly shuffled luggage and keys until it was unlocked and I tumbled inside.  There were a few boxes of things that I had shipped off by James that all seemed to be here and in tact.  Thank God.  I wouldn't want to have to buy everything all over again.  At least I would have a decent start.

        The apartment was entirely too stuffy, so I opened all the windows and left the door half closed, so that it could bring in a draft.  I dashed into my new bedroom and quickly changed into a tank top and shorts and put on mascara.  Comfortable, but presentable.  It was only ten, so I decided to get going on my new home.  I actually caught myself smiling in the mirror before I jumped up and began unpacking.  I'd never felt so happy to put away all my crap.

        I put on some music, but not too loud as I still had the door mostly open and I wasn't sure who all was home on this floor or how thin the walls could be.  The six or seven boxes soon dispersed about the rooms and I realized just how much I have left to buy.  Damn, I thought. Well, better than nothing.

        Just as I had finished putting up the artwork I had--a few original canvases and some interesting posters--a deep voice called into the living room from the door.

        "Helloo?  Anybody hooome?"

        I scattered to turn down my music all the way and make my way to the waiting visitor.  When I opened the door the rest of the way, I was greeted by six feet of smiles and charm.  This man had dark hair and rich, brown eyes that scrunched at the edges when he smiled.  I didn't let my eyes linger anywhere, but I couldn't help but look him up and down, taking in all the defined muscle.  Then the dreamboat stuck out his hand.

        "Hi, I'm Mark!  Mark Fischbach."  I shook his hand, a smile breaking across my own face.

        "Harleen Harte.  But please, call me Ellie."

        "Ellie?"  Mark tilted his head curiously, like a puppy.

        "My middle name is Elizabeth.  All my friends call me Ellie, it's a nickname that just stuck," I explained.  He smiled at me and nodded.

        "Okay, cool.  Ellie it is."  He smiled warmly, and a few butterflies sparked as he said my name.  I mentally kicked myself for the sensation and tried to guide the conversation elsewhere.

        "So, I guess we're neighbors, huh?"  He nodded again, remembering the fact.  Mark gestured to a door across the hall.

        "Oh, yeah, I'm actually right there.  So if you ever need to borrow any sugar or anything, you know where I'm at."  I swear, the longer he stood there the more attractive he got.  My face was getting red, I was sure of it.  Seriously, Elle, stop it.

        "So," I covered for my lost train of thought, "are you the one everybody warned me about? The noisy one?"  He looked down at his shoes and chuckled, guilty.

        "That's me," he sighed.  "I uh, I play video games.  Sometimes it gets.. interesting."  He looked up at me and offered a charming smirk and gestured toward the stack of boxes in the foyer.  "So, you need any help with anything? Any boxes in need of carrying or..?"

        I glanced into the half furnished apartment and considered this man for a moment.  He was practically a stranger, and yet I felt so comfortable talking with him.  Even though he made me nervous.  But in a good way.  He put off this aura of safety. Like nothing bad could happen with him around.  Not to mention, he was unreasonably attractive.  Honestly, it was ridiculous.  But making a friend in this place would be the best thing to do for a good start.  And if anyhting got crazy, I could protect myself just fine, so...  I decided to give it a shot.

        I turned back to Mark with a sheepish grin.  "Uhm..  Actually, I need to get a few things from the store, and I have no idea where anything is at, and, I- I'm without a car for now, and I feel terrible for asking, but if you aren't busy or anything, if I'm not imposing..."  I was stumbling over my words and he just smiled at me, patient.  "I could really use the help..  And, if you're hungry, I'll buy us lunch," I offered.  He laughed warmly and leaned back on his heels, in mock contemplation.

        "Hmm...  Show a pretty lady around town and get a free meal out of it all.  Well, with an offer like that, how could I refuse?"  He flashed me another one of those sweet smiles and stepped back toward his door.  "Let me just get my keys, I'll be right over."

        "Okay," I breathed.  I stepped into my own apartment and smiled in disbelief.  As I made my way to my room, a mirror reminded me of the ticking time-bomb of awkward conversation that was my shoulder.  I put a loose crop top on over my tank top and grabbed my purse, ckecking for my wallet and keys before facing the mirror again to check for any other visible damage.  Damn it. Too hot for sleeves. This was going to be an interesting day, indeed.