Working out had become part of his routine now. He'd wake up early, work out, go to class, study, work out again, and go to sleep. It kept him busy, and if he was busy, he wasn't thinking about Mark.

Except he was always thinking about Mark.

He'd wake up wondering if Mark had slept well, work out hoping Mark might notice his biceps looked more defined, sit in class thinking about how Mark would make his day more interesting, study wishing Mark was sitting next to him, and he'd go to sleep with Mark on his mind.

He was so fucked.