Renjun drags Chenle to art with him on a grey Thursday morning. The younger's complaints are easily silenced by the promise of bought cookies at the weekend, and he lounges around on his phone, but Renjun knows he's paying attention to his rants from the way he hums in places, even as his fingers blur across the keyboard. Having someone to talk to above why love even exists and what the best colours are to represent it releases the tension from Renjun's temples.

When Mark slips into the room, Renjun keeps his head ducked, and the tension resurfaces as he sucks in a breath.

They've been here before, sliding back together after the elder's disappearances, yet Renjun swallows his heart down and tightens his grip on the pencil that's seconds from snapping. This time, Mark loiters on the other side of the room. He fiddles with the zip on his jacket and bites his lip, adding to the cracks until the crimson is deep enough for his skin to be horrifyingly pale in comparison. It could just be the harsh lights, but Renjun knows it's not. A few tufts of hair poke out from under Mark's navy-blue beanie, one landing across his eye, and it would be cute if it weren't for the rest of his erratic appearance.

"If you have coursework to be getting on with, you can leave," Renjun mutters to his Chinese friend. "You don't have to stay."

Chenle pockets his phone and stretches. His back is to the door so he hasn't seen Mark, and Renjun tries to be subtle with his glances. "It's fine. I'm up to date with work."

"Must be nice." Renjun pairs his short reply with a glance past Chenle, and he meets Mark's eyes.

Mark scratches the back of his neck and then his chin. They're on opposite sides of a room that's full of chattering art students, but Renjun swears he hears the sniff and cough when Mark pretends he hasn't seen him.

"Who are you looking- oh! Mark! Nice to see you!" Chenle waves Mark over and Renjun drops the pencil. It clinks to the floor, forgotten as soon as Mark approaches.

Renjun watches Mark drag a stool over from a nearby table, and he hates the pang of jealousy when the girls smile and tell him of course it's okay to borrow a chair. Renjun observes Mark sit down opposite him, despite all the space to his side. He can also sense Chenle's eyes on him, but they're a mere pinprick in comparison to the heat that sears his skin. He doesn't want to be awkward; he doesn't know how to start the conversation. The thread from their previous conversation is left untied, frayed by such an abrupt end, and Renjun struggles to slip it back onto the needle to keep stitching their relationship together.

"Come here," Renjun says. His voice barely reaches a whisper, so he pats the desk to get Mark to finally sit closer.

The proximity plays the strings of his heart, and reveals the terrible shadows under his soulmate's eyes and the extent of the damage to his lips from too much agitation. Renjun wants to kiss them better. He knows he shouldn't. Mark's lidded, scared eyes tell him he shouldn't.

"I'll get going." Chenle grabs his bag and leaves before either has a chance to bid goodbye, although a plead for him to stay sits lodged in Renjun's throat for the subsequent minutes.

Renjun picks up his pencil and continues to draw. Half the lines irritate him, but he's too proud to erase any, instead crossing the room to rummage through the box of watercolour palettes. The five minutes it takes to find a decent one stretch long enough to work out what he's going to say. When he sits back down, however, all plans flee and his thoughts are indecipherable. Mark's silence is loud. Renjun paints to the rhythm of his heart. The staccato, erratic drum stains his work with too much pigment in all the wrong places and the brush is too big, too clunky for such fine details, but he gets on with it. He adds too much water and the colours bleed. He doesn't blot them, instead letting the tree dissolve into the sky, swallowed by the black abyss.

The painting doesn't turn out at all like his plans and Renjun worries the professor will scold him for changing concepts again. He uses a dying biro for line art until the ink gives up on him, like the weeks that are so quickly lost to anxiety and stress. The deadline for the project lurks just around the corner. Two months seems like plenty of time, but from experience Renjun knows it isn't. Not when he hasn't filled his sketchbook and primed his canvases like his classmates have.

He caps the lid on the pen with a louder sigh than intended.

"Shall I leave?"

Renjun doesn't even register the scratchy mumble as Mark's voice. Only when the elder clears his throat does he turn to face him, leaning on his elbow as he shoves his sketchbook across the table for some space.

"Shall I leave?" Mark asks again, and this time Renjun's eyebrows furrow in response.

The words are scratched and beaten and they sound painful, then Mark winces when he tries to speak again until Renjun holds up a hand.

"Stay." Renjun is sure he wants Mark to stay.

Mark nods and buries his hands in his pockets. Renjun still notices how they tremble in unison with his bouncing knee. He'd reach out to place a gentle palm on it if he didn't remember what had happened last time they were together.

"It's only me," Renjun says. "You can talk to me. Or not. You don't have to, but I just want to make sure you're okay. We don't have to do anything. Sitting together is nice."

He hopes his face doesn't show it, but it takes painful amounts of energy to remain composed, to not jump all over Mark and hold him tight to never let him go again. He digs his heels into the floor and his fingers into the hem of the jumper that itches his skin. Insecurity feeds on what little breakfast he ate, spurred on by the crackle of silence that muffles the surrounding chatter. Once again, Renjun can only focus on Mark.

"Could we maybe, um, go somewhere else?" Mark asks.

It only takes Renjun a second to nod his head and start packing up his things. It's a vague request, but Renjun would go anywhere with Mark, would do anything for Mark, so he would be out of his mind to deny his soulmate of something so simple as a change of scenery.

"It's reminding me of the hospital games room for some reason," Mark adds, pulling his coat tight across his frame as he glances around.

"You didn't come to draw, then?"

"No." Mark shakes his head. "Just to see you." He admits it quietly, yet it's the same shrinking voice that knocks on Renjun's heart.

His entire body is so in tune with Mark that they walk in step without thinking about it. Renjun follows the elder outside, all the way to a secluded courtyard he didn't even know existed, without thinking about it, simply following the invisible strings of attraction that tug him after his soulmate.

They sit on a bench. The wood is worn, aged by years of weather and years of students coming and going, and Renjun leans back to tilt his head to the sky, taking in the distant birdsong and ignoring the rumble of traffic. A million variations of the same question bounce around his mind, so he just lets one roll off his tongue before he backs out of it altogether.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Huh?" Mark lets out a grunt of surprise that only surprises him again, and Renjun turns to face him with a smile and a chuckle. "Oh." Mark blinks, eyes to the ground. "Um. Yeah?"

Renjun turns back to the sky and the grey cloud he was watching before has ambled on a bit further and the wisps have changed to resemble a lumpy cat. He points this out to Mark, who squints in frustration until his face lights up when he finds it.

"God, I love the clouds so much." Mark grins.

"But your 'yeah' wasn't very convincing," Renjun quips back. It wipes the smile off the elder's face so fast that he nearly feels guilty.

"I feel better than I did when I was collapsed on the sofa. I feel miles better. But... I don't know... I don't want to... worry you." Mark mumbles the last bit. The wind catches his words, yet Renjun can still snatch them and dissect them with paranoia.

"Is it bad?" His response is just as hesitant.

The pause drags on. Mark swallows hard enough for Renjun to hear it, and a knuckle cracks as he twists his fingers together. "I'm not doing too great. It took a lot of energy out of me. They weren't even going to discharge me. And..." Mark stops to think. Renjun naturally leans in closer, but the elder shifts away to maintain the distance, although the wince says he's just as reluctant. "I just have to be careful."

Their eyes meet. Renjun's throat tightens when he tries to swallow. Emotions tangle in his throat and thoughts tangle in his brain as concern and regret and other undecipherable emotions flood his chest.

Mark's eyes widen; a silent plead.

So Renjun relents. His shoulders slump and he crosses his ankles, fingers deep in his pockets as he nods slowly.

"Okay. Please be careful."

"I promise." Mark doesn't hesitate over that one. "It's just frustrating, I guess. It's hard to not get angry. I want to reciprocate everything that you give me, but when I'm weak... I'm sorry, Renjun. It's not always possible. Straining my heart can be dangerous and it hurts so bad. But the distance hurts, too. I hate it." Mark buries his head in his hands, elbows digging into his bouncing knees. "I want to kiss you so, so much. I want to be that disgusting couple that make out in the park and in the back of lectures and in the corridors. I want to take you on dates. I want you to see my soulmate dust for real. Not just this ugly grey that makes me cry."

Renjun clings onto Mark's every word until his thoughts stutter at the mention of kisses, of being a couple, of going on dates. His chest twinges. The elder notices him hiss in discomfort. When he widens his eyes – a sign Renjun has learnt to associate with an incoming apology – the younger shakes his head to stop him, breathing deep to calm the swarm of desperate butterflies in his stomach. His cheeks feel suspiciously hot. Mark stares, which worsens the ordeal, but Renjun doesn't shy away. It's when he stares back that Mark seems to realise his own words. As he purses his lips into an embarrassed pout, Renjun can almost see the cogs whirring in his head.

The next few minutes are quiet but fly past as Renjun's heart stings with hope. He doesn't want to ask the question he so wants to ask; he feels it has to come from Mark, when Mark is comfortable and ready. He still hangs onto each of the elder's breaths in anticipation. Rationality scolds him for assuming such a question would even come, but he brushes it away to keep watching his soulmate. Pink dusts Mark's own cheeks.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

It's what Renjun's been waiting for, yet it trips him up, makes him stumble and stutter and fumble with his words as he tries to formulate a response.

"Maybe I can't give you everything right now, but I will. In the future. As soon as I can, I will." Mark's eyes search the younger's expression, pooling with earnest, and Renjun's legs turn numb when a cold breeze circles them and snatches his breath.

A group of students passes by, shouting and shoving each other with curses on their lips, but they barely scathe the atmosphere between the soulmates. Renjun doesn't need to look down to know his soulmate dust is burning bright, and he doesn't need to notice the bouncing of Mark's knee to know the elder is anxious. He wishes he didn't have to, but Renjun weighs up the situation. He imagines himself dating Mark. He imagines himself staying as friends, or close friends, or as whatever they are already. Either way, the distance will be painful.

"Yes."

Renjun says it anyway. Mark stops mid-sentence, although his rambles had been tuned out by the debate in the younger's head, and blinks.

"Yes. I'll be your boyfriend, and you'll be mine," Renjun says. Mark blinks again, and this time it pushes a tear from the corner of his eye. "Shit, don't cry. Don't cry. It's alright."

Mark wipes the tear away with a fierce thumb, then purses his lips in determination to keep himself from crying any more. "It's just... I never thought I would find you. I never thought I could have this." He hugs himself and rocks from side to side, then back and forth, and Renjun fiddles with the cuffs of his jacket sleeves.

"Mark..." Renjun doesn't know what to say. He fears the right words don't even exist. "You'll always have me. I'll stay by your side, no matter what. And that's a promise."

Lips tight, Mark nods fiercely. For Renjun, the sight of his boyfriend curled in on himself like a child urges him to do something, but he doesn't know what so he just keeps talking. Mark's eyes shut but there's no tension in his face, so Renjun keeps talking to try to soothe him. He tells him he's grateful they met, that Mark has brightened his life too, that he'll always be honest and is prepared to let go for another week if it means having him back and healthy.

"I'd rather not see you for a week than ever again."

"Thank you." The whisper is tiny, scarcely more than a trepid exhale, but it pricks Renjun's heart.

Mark slides a hand across the bench until he pokes Renjun's side with his pinky. The younger looks down then up at the elder in confusion, but he understands when Mark curls his fist, keeping his pinky extended.

So they lock fingers, and the promise is enough.

𓆩♡𓆪

Markren boyfriends ♥ What are your thoughts??

Have a wonderful weekend ^^