The Bond

Ch 21

"Bold."/"Bold italic" : animatronic is talking/animatronic is talking in mind

"Normal."/"Normal italic." : human is talking/human is talking in mind

=o^o=

In the end Michael told Mark that he would fix the rest of the ceiling holes in his house himself.

Thanks to Ennard.

The animatronic was starting to get more annoying than ever and Michael had no idea what was Ennard's reason. Michael guessed that Ennard was just bored and wanted to annoy him, also because he didn't like Mark. Maybe. Because Ennard often forced him to leave Mark's place as soon as possible, but he decided to move after getting a new job.

There's nothing weird about Mark anyway, the guy is quite nice as usual.

"What makes an unemployed person like you look so grumpy?"

Michael turned his head, Mark chuckled as he approached him. "Do I look grumpy?" Michael asked back with a frown.

"Kinda," Mark answered casually, then placed a box of juice beside Michael. "I bought it."

"Why, do you feel pity?"

"Yes."

Michael let out a rough snort and dropped the juice box on purpose. "No thanks," he said, annoyed with Mark.

"So childish."

"Don't be childish."

Why are they both so annoying now?

"... Terrance."

Michael's shoulders tensed, his eyes glanced slowly at Mark. "You ... just called me what?" his voice was low, as if in a whisper.

"Michael," Mark replied casually, but a moment later he shuddered when Michael immediately grabbed him by the collar. "Geez—sorry, sorry!" Mark said a little bit panicked, he didn't expect this reaction from his old friend. "I didn't know you could be that upset if someone called your old name."

"You think?!" Michael reproached angrily.

"Choke him to dead."

"Forget it!" The eldest Afton let go of his grip on Mark's collar and snorted, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

Mark grabbed his collar which was messed up by Michael, before giving a small snort. Michael heard the snort and glanced up sharply, before growling as Mark tugged at his cheek. "Sweet child, don't sulk," Mark teased. "I already apologized."

"You're annoying."

"Deserves a hit."

"Stop teasing me," Michael said as he brushed Mark's hand away, he frowned. "You have a girlfriend."

"So?"

Michael gaped. "'So?', you said?" he said in disbelief. "Quit cheating! You want your girlfriend to break up with you the same way I did?" Michael really can't understand Mark's way of thinking. "And I think you've changed for the better."

"I did change," Mark replied with a shrug.

"I take my words back." Michael knit his brows together and pursed his lips together. This was probably the only thing he didn't like about Mark; Mark is loyal to his friends, but not to his partner. "Don't even try," he threatened then to the man, making Mark chuckle.

"Why? You like someone else right now, hm?" Mark asked curiously, moving closer to Michael.

"No."

"You like me though."

"I fucking hate you."

"Or do you actually have a secret lover?"

Michael groaned loudly. "Of course not, idiot. I don't have time to think about a partner right now," he said.

Mark made a sound in his throat. "Does that mean you still like me?"

"Why are you so confident like that?" Michael looked at Mark confusedly, not understanding where Mark got his confidence from. "I'll never be able to trust you completely like I used to after you left me like that," he said, it felt like today he was feeling his anger peaking.

"You didn't tell me the reason for the eyepatch because you didn't trust me just because of that?"

"It's not just a petty reason, Mark," Michael said quietly, he slowly lowered his gaze. "Don't make it sound like it's easy. For you maybe yes, but for me no. I don't like it when you play with my feelings."

"So there's a chance you still like me?"

"Look how stubborn he is."

"For the second time, how come you can be so confident like that?" Michael snorted, his forehead furrowed at Mark and Michael pursed his lips. Mark just smirked to answer the question. "You're irritating me. Just get lost."

A low chuckle was heard from Mark, Michael didn't even care that Mark ruffled his brown hair. "Sorry," Mark said, more seriously this time, but Michael didn't care. "I'll buy you some bread."

Michael suddenly choked. "Bread?" he said, now his annoyance was replaced by panic.

"Bread. Sounds good."

"Can't you just shut your mouth for a bit?"

"No."

Mark nodded. "Your favourite sandwich," he said casually, leaning his back against the headboard of the wooden chair as he looked at Michael. "We might be able to buy it at Simon's, I heard he has continued his family bakery business."

"That's ... good," Michael said, and then he shook his head quickly. "But no."

"Why? You want some other food? We haven't had lunch yet." Mark tilted his head to the side, he looked confused. "We can order pasta."

"Anything but pasta."

Michael wanted to laugh at Ennard's response this time, but he held it in until it sounded like a small cough. "I don't think so, Mark," Michael replied. "I'm not hungry. If you're hungry just eat without me. I'm full."

"How can you be full ... you haven't eaten anything since last night, Mike."

Mark glared at him, causing Michael to panic again—he was agitated and didn't know what to say. "My diet is a mess." Michael was still trying to avoid Mark's gaze.

"We can go to the doctor to fix that."

"No!"

Michael quickly covered his mouth, he cursed because Mark must be suspecting him now. "No need to," Michael continued hastily. "Buy me a soda, that's enough. Please."

For a minute Mark didn't answer.

"Fine."

"Good," Michael replied and gave a small nod before thanking him.

"Soda?"

"For me, not for you."

"Soda?"

"Next time."

"Soda."

"I said next time."

Ignoring Mark who was still staring at him intensely, Michael felt himself taking care a small child who needed attention on the other side.