You open your eyes and look over to the clock, reading off three in the afternoon. You yawn and stretch, assuming you took a quick cat nap. You get up, noticing how quiet it was, and make your way to Marks room. You knock on the door and wait a couple moments before opening the door. You scan the room, not seeing any sign of him.

"Mark?" You ask, waiting for a reply, but none comes.

You go to the kitchen, seeing a bowl of fruit and a note. Sitting down at the table, you pluck a few blueberries out and pop them into your mouth as you read over the note.

'Went out for a bit to grab something for my videos. Enjoy the fruit, I should be back soon. Mark.'

There's a few scribbled-out areas above where he wrote down his name, you raise your eyebrow to this but shrug, returning your attention to the fruit, seeing it's a whole medley of: kiwi, banana, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and slices of mango.

'I don't remember all of this being in the fridge,' you think as you start making sandwiches of fruit. 

(A/N I really recommend doing this XD put a blueberry inside of a raspberry and then put a peice of mango on top and bottom of it. It's tastes magical.)

As you're washing out the bowl, you hear the door unlock and open. You turn off the faucet and walk out to the living room, drying your hands off.

"Hey," you say, noticing a bag from a party store, "thanks for the breakfast. What's in the bag?"

He smiles, a rising redness to his cheeks, "Mornin' sleepy head," he lifts the bag up, reaching into it and pulling out a Santa hat-beard combo, "I'm gonna be doing an Omegle video soon."

You give a small giggle, thinking of how he'd look dressed as Santa, and doing his voice. As you return the towel to the kitchen, you also think about how you never tried to find him on Omegle, just because you didn't want to be bombarded by dicks, personality wise and literal.

You sigh and walk back out, running into something. Ending up ultimately grabbing the nearest thing and toppling backwards, you grip your eyes close.

You feel something catch the back of your head as your body connects with the floor, yelping out a bit as your feel pain shoot up from your still tender leg.

"Sorry," you hear Mark say.

You could feel his breath on your face as you open your eyes, seeing you had pulled him down with you, and that he had placed his hand behind your head to prevent you from hitting it.

Marks POV

I set the bag down on the couch, hearing the clinking of bottles. I had to decided to drink a little for the Christmas videos, as well as restock for later drunken videos. I roll my eyes and continue on to my room to check on the rendering videos, getting lost in a moment from earlier.

I came out, seeing (f/n) asleep. I purse my lips, playfully upset that she couldn't handle my hilarious genius. I scoff to myself, then noticing that she was drooling, felt a devious smile creep on my lips. I walked over, pulled out my phone, and took a picture. I fumbled with the phone as the shutter noise sounded and she groaned, readjusting herself. I quietly laughed, patting her on the head as I grabbed my keys and left.

Being lost in my thoughts, I ended up running into (f/n) as she exited the kitchen. I go to grab for her as she tumbles back, but instead she clenches her eyes shut and grabs my shirt.

'Crap,' I think as I move my hand to the back of her head, seeing the tile floor it would hit. She cries out as we land, adjusting her still healing leg.

"Sorry," I say, and look back to the cause of her pain, making sure it didn't open back up.

I look back to her, her eyes wide and face flush, still clutching my shirt. I could feel my face heat up, and my breath go a bit ragged as I look down at her. I adjust myself and move my hand to caress her face, accidentally running my fingers against her neck. She shivers, fluttering her eyes close again. I gulp as I lower my face down to hers.

'Ya know...' a voice peeks out from the back of my mind, 'she's still a virgin.'

I freeze, feeling my face get ever hotter. I try to shake the thought away, but can't. Pulling away to stand up, I offer my hand out to her.