Mark And Me Novels & Stories

Which is exactly what Mark did, flashing me that killer smile that had spread more legs than a gynecologist. "Same here Meg, it's been awhile." As he spoke using the name that only he could get away with I looked Mark over thinking that he really was beautiful. Mark and I shared the same thick black hair and high cheek bones, but where I was fair with blue eyes, he was a bit darker and his eyes were a gorgeous shade of golden brown with flecks of green overall his features were a bit on the delicate side and he had been called "Pretty Boy" on more than one occasion. The beauty certainly did not stop at his face. Mark was slightly taller than I and was a hundred and ninety pounds of rock soli

Even as the pain made me convulse, I welcomed the feeling of my soul being stripped free and reborn. When it was finally over, I let out a long breath. My body felt unbelievably light. Far away, Marcus was shopping with Clara and the kids, laughing together. Suddenly, his chest tightened, and the suffocating sensation nearly made him collapse. But it passed in an instant. Confused, he brushed it off when Clara called his name, and he soon forgot about it altogether. They went to Firefly Woods. They took family photos and walked along the beach together. They had no idea that somewhere in the city, I had already left the pack behind, dragging my suitcase into an airport terminal.

Mark loves me. I have been visiting Mark every afternoon after school. I didn’t see Kate at school all week and Sierra was asking about her too. But like I said, I needed some time. Mark has been home for a few days now and I was hoping to spend the whole day with him, since it’s Saturday. But he told me he’s feeling too tired and weak. So I decided to help out dad. At least it gives me something to do. Cleaning often clears my mind and I love those damn animals.

I said. A wide grin appeared on his face as he scooped me up like I was a child. “When?” I asked. “Soon.” I nodded once, setting the paper back down. Then turned toward the window, staring out at the city that had given me something I didn’t even know I was allowed to have. Choice. Love. Power. My reflection stared back at me through the glass while my fingers brushed lightly against my chest, where the mark remained hidden.

Even if I wanted to hide my anger right now, I wouldn’t be able to in front of him. “Another voicemail from Sasha,” I tell him, settling down on the bench on the lawn to compose myself. Mark takes a seat next to me, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair. As a couple of freshmen girls strut past us, Mark winks at them, drawing giggles from the girls as they continue down the pathway. I roll my eyes. Out of the three of us, Mark is the most charismatic. On the outside, he’s perfect. Handsome, charming, street smart, and intuitive, not to mention an incredible dancer. But only those that really know him understand the secrets he holds within. We all have similar secrets.

I thought I didn't need anyone else except my brother. I thought he would think the same. But I was wrong. One evening, Mark was at his small desk, flipping through a notebook. "Hey," he said tentatively, turning around in his swivel chair. "I know it’s fast. And I know you just want to rest. But... there's someone you should meet." A sharp, defensive spike shot through my chest. My muscles tensed instantly. "Who?"

Mark had a moment of guilt, and he slowly walked in, standing in front of Uma's hospital bed. "Are you okay?" he asked. Uma turned her head and looked at him with confusion. But his eyebrows, his eyes, for some reason, gave Uma a strange feeling. "Who are you?" "My name is Mark," said Mark. Uma was surprised, "Your last name is Li?" "Yeah, same last name as you, Li." Uma's expression hardened. "What did you come here for?" Mark gave a bitter smile and said, "Don't you ask me about our relationship?"

Mark begs with a clenched fist, his head lowered as he grinds his teeth tightly. "I just need some time to collect my thoughts," Mark tells him, "I'm tired of being the one left behind, I need your help, I want my revenge and I want to get out of this place, but… I just don't know what to do," Mark says, tears streaming down his eyes for the first time in two years.

Why didn't you come to look for me all these years? “Uncle…? Are you crying?” Sophie's sad voice demands, calling my attention. I shake my head, quickly wiping the moisture away. There’s a knock. I look up, and Mark stands outside holding his helmet and a briefcase. “Come in.” He walks in, and the first thing he says is, “I just met my soulmate in the lobby.” “Congratulations, now get to work.” He scoffs and moves, placing everything on my desk, opening the briefcase, and slipping on gloves as he prepares equipment.

That made it worse. “No.” I replied immediately. “It's okay.” I followed him into the living room. Mark stood near the fireplace, tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair dusted with snow. He turned when he heard us, his face breaking into a smile that was warm and unmistakably fond. “There she is.” He said, eyes moving over me with open curiosity. “You must be MIA.” I stiffened. “There she is.” Like I was a story he'd already heard.