Work Text:
Waking up on school days were honestly the worst. If it weren’t for the cute smile and giggle that greeted you when you opened your eyes, you were sure you would have punched a wall. Instead, you groaned and rolled over.
“(Y/n),” Mark cooed, “We have to go to school. Come on! Time to get up!”
You blinked your eyes wearily before simply grasping the edge of the comforter and pulling it over your head. However, no matter how much you wanted to block out the sunlight and the entirety of the day ahead, there was no denying the brown-haired boy who was no doubt still hovering over the bed. It was weird how you could feel his presence even when he moved over to the closet, returning with your uniform.
Or maybe it was just that you could hear his footsteps and see the bright lights behind your eyelids as he peeled the covers back. You tried to fight him and maintain your hold on the fabric but Mark seemed to have an iron grip.
“(Y/n), I’m serious. It’s time to get up. I don’t want to be late.”
At this you rolled over to glare at him, releasing the comforter in the process. He flung it to the end of the bed and raised an eyebrow at you before breaking out into giggles.
“You look so cute with bedhead.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you jumped out of bed, grabbed the clothes out of his hand and raced to the bathroom before he had time to even say your name. After a few seconds, you could hear the sound of him moving toward you. Putting down the toothbrush you had picked up as you entered, you made a point of locking the door as he neared.
“Really?” he asked from the other side of the door.
You laughed in amusement at his tone and then resumed brushing your teeth. Moving onto changing outfits, you unlocked the door when you finished, calling out “you can come in now.”
It was a minute before the doorknob turned and the door opened a crack. Mark peeked his head in cautiously and then entered fully, turning his back to you as he shut it again. He remained turned away until you spoke again.
“Mark?”
He lowered his head but moved to stand behind you as you watched him in the mirror. Although you couldn’t see his eyes, you could clearly make out the blush sprawled across his face.
“What’s wrong?” you inquired.
“Uh, your shirt…” he mumbled after a second.
You looked back at your reflection to find that the right side of your shirt had slipped down your shoulder. Although nothing more than your collarbone and bra strap showed, you still hastily fixed your shirt, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.
An awkward silence settled over you two. Mark cleared his throat then finally looked at you in the mirror. Pursuing your lips, you tried to come up with something to say but Mark beat you to it.
“Can I brush your hair?”
With permission from your shy nod he took hold of the hairbrush on the counter and began running it gently through your hair. It was quiet aside from his mumbling when there was a knot that wouldn’t come out and your sharp intakes of breath when he tugged too hard. He would apologize and then silence would fall again.
When he finished you were slightly impressed at how well he had managed to tame your bedhead, but then again he had done this before when you had asked on the odd occasion. You thanked him and his reflection smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, all traces of embarrassment gone. The two of you stayed like that for a minute before he planted a kiss on the crown of your head and then pulled away, only to grab your hand and lead you out to the kitchen.
As you entered, Mark looked over at the clock and gasped at the time. He quickly grabbed a bag and gathered various items from the pantry and dragged you out the front door. You had barely had time to put your shoes on and grab your backpack.
Barely making it to the bus stop on time, you boarded, out of breath, and laughed together at how both your hair was now windblown. Mark reached out and attempted to help smooth down your hair before the bus lurched forward and he had to grab onto a rail.
“What’d you bring?”
Mark held the bag up and opened it, smiling sheepishly.
“Well, we could eat cereal or a box of pancake mix.”
“Did you at least bring syrup?” you ask, a smirk growing on your face.
“Unfortunately no.”
You shook your head, not bothering to hide your smile as he laughed. The bus pulled to a stop and you both got off, walking onto the school grounds. Knowing there were still a few minutes until class started, the two of you walked around and sat down on a bench under one of the largest trees on campus. The sun had just risen high enough to see it over the main building so there was a soft glow to the pavement and a comfortable heat that would probably become unbearable later.
Shifting your backpack, you put it on the ground and unzipped the largest pocket and produced a lunch box. You held it out to Mark who was rummaging through his bag again. He looked over at you after you nudged him.
“What’s this?” He took it and opened it up, pulling out the cupcakes in their individual containers.
“Happy birthday!” you exclaim, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He smiled brightly at you and then returned the kiss.
“Thank you, (Y/n). But why are there three?”
“One for you, one for me and one for Donghyuck. Duh. Do you think he would let me live if I didn’t bring him one?” You explain as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
“Good point,” he agreed. “Next question: when did you put these in your backpack?”
“Last night because I knew we would be rushing out the door.”
“How’d you know?”
“Mark, we do this every week,” you said through your giggles.
“Oh.” He was about to say more but the warning bell rang and he hurriedly packed the cupcakes up again. He jumped up off the bench and offered you a hand, which you gladly accepted.
The two of you ran to your classroom. Sitting down at your desks with a minute to spare, Mark pulled out the cupcakes and put them on his desk.
“Are we eating these for breakfast?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.
He looked at them for a moment and then reached down and grabbed the cereal from the bag. He took a handful out and shoved it into your mouth. You glared at him but he smiled.
“No, it’s dessert.”
Chewing and swallowing the food, you shook your head, “You’re lucky I like you.”
He smiled, “I know.”