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There he was.
“Mark…”
Laying in bed with the love of his life.
“Mark.”
And drifting off into space… again.
“Mark!” She yelled his name this time, after trying to get his attention for 30 seconds.
“W-what?” He finally came down from wherever he was.
“You just asked me a question and now you're not listening.” Oh fuck, he did it again, didn't he?
He turned his body to the side, giving her his full attention. “I'm sorry, explain again.” He held her waist, adding reassurance that he'd listen this time. He remembered a bit of what she said, something about her estranged father.
She took a deep breath, getting ready to gather her thoughts again. But just as she was about to speak, she stopped. “Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?” She flipped the script.
What's on his mind?
What was on his mind? He didn't know that himself.
There was a lot on his shoulders and a lot on his mind. Where was he supposed to start?
The fight with Cecil?
The fight with Angstrom?
Conquest?
Hell, that fight with Powerplex had his mind all kinds of fucked up.
Or was it…
Yes, that might be it.
“Why did he leave?” Here come the tears.
He's not entirely here. Half of his mind was clouded with the memories of his father beating him and killing people all for the sake of the Viltrum Empire, and then flying off into the sunset without saying goodbye. Seeing his father still alive and well on Thraxa with a new child made him beyond furious.
But hearing that his father was executed? From none other than Conquest?
He didn't cry at first. But now he wanted to.
And there she was, with her warm arms and words, comforting him. Letting him cry on her shoulders.
With how understanding she is, it's almost easy to forget about the past. Almost.
She's got daddy issues.
And he does too.