-Write On Me Fifth Harmony-

Denise could understand why Mark hadn't recognized his old neighborhood. His parents' house was the only home that hadn't been renovated. Considering they owned the house, they had no problems with how it looked and even more so the memories it held.

They had no interest in moving, selling, or renting it out.

Eugene and Audrey planned on living in the house that they raised their children until their last breath.

Denise loved the old-modeled home. Despite it being outdated, they kept the place up nice. It had an old charm to it that was striking to the eye and made you wonder about the memories it held over time.

The house belonged to someone else before it was given to Eugene and Audrey in their mid-twenties.

Adeline and Samantha had cleaned out their old bedrooms long ago, giving their parents two free rooms. One was used for Audrey's sewing hobby, and the other a guest room.

Mark's bedroom, however, hadn't been touched.

An intrigued Denise found herself in his room after brushing her teeth.

The room wasn't would you expected for a young teenage boy. Then again, Mark wasn't an average kid and definitely not the average teen.

He was a good boy, stayed out of trouble.

Clean and evidently had a good head on his shoulders, considering the lack of teenage angst signs.

A typical teenager would have walls plastered with athletes, hip hop, rock bands, and supermodel posters. Mark, however, had photos of his family and his childhood friends - everywhere.

They were the center of his life.

Still was after what she'd seen tonight.

The room was spotless too. Besides Audrey keeping everything dust-free, she never had to make Mark clean his room or do it for him, according to her.

Mark kept tidy all by himself.

He still did too. Denise knew that from traveling with him.

Between the two, she was the slob. It really showed true when they were in a hotel. When returning to the place she was going to sleep for the night, the first thing she did was kick off her shoes and take off her pants.

Usually, she was so exhausted, she'd leave her stuff scattered on the floor. She hadn't noticed until now that Mark always picked up after her. Didn't complain about it either.

Even when they were just friends, he was taking care of her.

She smiled at the thought of him as she kept looking around.

On his desk in the corner was a row of books on a shelf. He had a deep love for the sci-fi genre evidently.

As she ran her fingers across the book binds, she noticed a photo by a cup of pens and pencils.

It was of a young Mark and who she guessed was Brianna. By the way, Mark was looking at her, the love in his eyes - it was definitely her.

Mark was almost recognizable, his younger self shorter, scrawnier, and with short hair.

At the time, he probably never thought he'd ever look like he did now.

Then there was Brianna. She was stunning.

Caramel skin, young brown eyes that seemed to gleam of the pain Mark said she had gone through with her abusive father.

Maybe Denise could see the pain because she knew the story. She didn't know and didn't dwell. But her heart did break a bit - for Brianna.

Gone too early. Killed by her own father. The person who was supposed to protect her but ended being the person she needed protection from.

Denise related all too well, though hers was more metaphorical. Physical means weren't the only to way kill someone - words had the same effect if used correctly.

Thoughtfully, Denise pulled her gaze away.

Was it a coincidence that Mark ended up falling for another girl with major daddy issues?

She cringed at the negative thought, telling her he could have done much better than her.

Denise had come a long way and was still getting better. She was just as much of a Godsend to him as the other way around. Even if she couldn't see it all the time.

It always frustrated her that no matter how better she got, her old ways of thinking still try to push their way back in. It was as if she was being tested to see if she had really changed.

Life was an exhausting, continuous fight that she luckily had no interest in quitting.

Denise's attention lands on a sleek red electric guitar. It stood beautifully on a stand, next to it, an acoustic.

The electric beauty was the last gift he'd received from his parents before he was convicted. He never even got a chance to play it.

Mark was sure he was rusty but had already promised he'd play for her. Denise was looking forward to while also hoping he wouldn't use it to try and get her to sing for him.

Leaving out of his bedroom, she goes two doors down to the guest room they would be staying in.

She pushes open the door to find Mark peacefully snoozing.

Even though he didn't have nightmares anymore, he turned out to be a natural night owl. Maybe the emotional high of reuniting with his family exhausted him.

Either way, he deserved some rest.

Denise tiptoed around the room, putting her toiletry bag away.

Grabbing her charging phone, she quietly lays beside Mark, tapping the UNO app. It became her new addiction in the last month.

Just before she could start a game, Mark suddenly came alive, scaring the hell out of her as he placed kisses in the crook of her neck.

She was fresh out of the shower, coco butter rubbed into her dark skin like heaven to his nostrils.

"Were you playing sleep?" Denise laughed, putting her phone down.

Reluctantly, Mark pulled his face away from her neck, "I wanted to scare you."

"Mission accomplished," she grinned.

Denise couldn't find the urge to be annoyed, considering the way he scared her.

She sat up, "so how does it feel to be home?"

"Oddly," Mark laid on his back. His arm propped behind his head. "Comforting," he smiled. "It wasn't as scary as I imagined it would be. I guess I'm so used to people judging my appearance that I assumed my family would do the same."

"Silly you," Denise poked at his leg. "You're family's great. Like, really great. Like, I don't even want to leave this place great."

"Really?" Mark was less surprised that she liked them and more surprised that she wanted to stick around.

"Cliche family dynamics usually make me want to hurl," she made him laugh. "But you're family, I don't think their cliche at all. I think they're real and sincere. Being there, I couldn't help but think about what my family wasn't but, Addy set me straight. Told the truth that though they were close, they had normal family issues. Bumped head sometimes."

Mark sat up listening.

"I guess it really sobered me up about family. Whether they're close or estranged: family is never perfect. Like everything else in this godforsaken world," she rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Mark lifted her chin, "life's not all bad."

"Trust me, I know," she pulled his hand away, leaning toward him. "'Cause I got you."

She kissed a smiling Mark, deeply, passionately, and he took no time to reciprocate.

Typically, there was a build-up and anticipation in their make-out sessions. But there was something about the moment that resulted in an escalation.

With their lips entangled and Mark hovering over Denise, her mind was not feeding into any of the fears she'd had about sleeping with him.

The desire she felt flooded her mind with visions of them stripping off each other's clothes and making love to each other.

Love that she had never made to anyone or let anyone do to her. They hadn't even started pulling at each other's clothes, and her mind was already there.

She had no clue where the sudden fearlessness to let Mark enter another vulnerable part of her came from.

Was it because of their talk?

Being around his family? Coming to terms that she would one day be his wife and even more the mother of his kid?

That, for once, she was in a relationship where her future was concrete rather than her usual, 'let's see how long this lasts' attitude?

Denise didn't know, and honestly, she didn't care.

Neither did Mark, considering that usually, by now, he'd pull away to make sure she was okay.

With their tongues exploring each other's mouths, space in between them closed, and Mark's hard-on grazing her pulsing heat, their bodies said it all.

No words were needed.

Mark took off his shirt, exposing his tattooed torso.

He was focused and blind by inclination.

There was a look in his eyes that Denise had never seen before. A look that gave a glimpse into the man who was underestimated because of his self kept innocence. A man who, though might have had self-control, had been waiting for the night he got to make love to Denise.

He latched his lips back on to hers, running his hands up her sides as he lifted up her shirt.

Denise gulped, letting out panted breaths as he started giving attention to her neck.

Mark was eager but not eager enough to rush through the intimate moment.

No, he wanted to show every inch of Denise's body some love. With any other man, she was against romance. But tonight, she happily - better yet, eagerly took in the affection he had for her.

Lifting her shirt to reveal her bare plump breasts, Mark trails kissed across her busts and down her body.

Denise closed her eyes, biting her lip. The lower he got, the more the desire in the pit of her stomach grew.

He grasped the sides of her pajama shorts and panties and began to pull.

As he lowered the clothing, he came face to face with Denise's cesarean scar.

Mark knew that she hadn't had birth naturally. However, being so that he was a man, he had never even thought about how the traumatic experience left her not only mentally scarred but physically.

Even more so, Mark was surprised that he had never noticed it.

Then again, it wasn't like she walked around naked in front of him all the time. Even though she could, because they hadn't slept together, it seemed smarter, not too.

The most she did was walk around without pants, but now that Mark was thinking back, she always wore something that covered the scar or made it, so it wasn't noticeable.

Little did he know, the scar was one of the few things Denise was insecure about it. Most, if not all, the sexual encounters she indulged in happened in an almost or entirely dark place.

Mark could feel her gaze on him, and her body tense up as he stared at the scar that made her relive the death of her son for years.

Surprisingly, she hadn't thought to talk to him about it.

Fortunately, there was nothing to talk about for Mark.

It was a scar, a piece of art even that represented what she had been through. A beautiful minder that showed how she'd made it out the flames that sought to burn her the day she lost her son.

Running his finger over the scar, Mark kissed it - tenderly and lovingly.

Denise's body relaxed, and for a second, she could have burst into tears.

She was loved unapologetically and unconditionally - flaws and all.

The burning desire she felt reminded her that she could cry later. Right now, she wanted to give the man she loved all for her.

Forget holding back. What for?

From strangers to friends to lovers - there was nobody else for her.

Waiting was meaningless at this point.

Mark's lips found their way to hers as she pulled the string to his sweatpants.

This was it - they both thought.

It was no turning back now - not that they wanted to.

Just as Denise was helping Mark pull his sweats down, a knock on the door brought them out their intense moment.

As to have been in a daze, they frowned at each other confused.

They eyed the room wearily, remembering where they were and who was in the house with him.

It had just been them for so long, they'd forgotten they were at his parents' house.

"I think they're asleep, honey," they could hear Eugene whisper and Rex scratching at the door.

That didn't stop his wife from knocking, though.

Denise covered her mouth, holding in a deep laugh.

Even Mark was having a hard time keeping it together.

Maybe they should have been annoyed by the interruption.

However, they weren't.

Now that the moment was over, they unknowingly shared the same thoughts.

They did not want their first time to be under his parents' roof.

The fact that it almost happened was, for some reason, quite humorous, though.

"Just a second," said Mark, still hovered over Denise.

He gives her a peck on the lips, and they get up.

Mark puts his shirt back on while Denise makes sure hers is pulled all the way down, and her boobs are covered. Both had to pull up their pants too.

That sat down, trying not to look at all suspicious.

"Come in," Mark said once they were good.

Thank God, Denise noticed his boner and acted quickly by putting a pillow over it when the door opened.

Rex came running in, hopping on the bed excitedly.

Audrey had already set him up with a doggy bed, food, and water. Using the things of their old family dog that died of old age recently.

"Hope we're not disturbing anything," said Eugene, who had tried to talk his wife into letting them rest rather than say goodnight.

"No, it's fine," Mark said nonchalantly despite the man to man look his father was giving him.

He might have been older but wasn't stupid.

Oddly enough, he didn't seem upset about what almost transpired under his roof. Instead, he appeared somewhat guilty of cockblocking his son.

But he knew Audrey was just so excited that Mark was home.

They all did.

If she wanted to say goodnight - why not?

She hadn't seen him in years, and they could always have sex another time.

Surely not there.

"We just wanted to say goodnight," Audrey looked like she would burst at the seams, so thrilled that her son was in her arms reach. "Do you guys need anything?"

Denise shook her head, looking at Mark, who said, "we're fine, mom, thanks."

"Yeah, and thank you for the hospitality. You've been really great," smiled Denise.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart," Audrey gave her a tight hug like she was one of her own. "We're so glad to have you. Both of you," she then gave Mark a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."

"Love you too," Mark watched her head out.

Rex took off after her. He either found a new buddy or found out Audrey was the Queen of giving dogs many treats.

Mark assumed both.

"You guys sleep well," Eugene followed after his wife and closed the door behind himself.

Denise let out a snicker while Mark was slightly embarrassed. He shouldn't have been, but to be frank, it was such bad timing.

"Your mom is cute," Denise gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, she's something," Mark sighed deeply.

"Don't worry, next time," she promised him with a smile.

Though they didn't go all the way, they had broken the chains of hesitation for Denise.

There was no more fear of messing up or holding back.

She was going to love Mark with all that she had, just as he did with her.

****

Decided to get you guys hearts pumping for a minute. What do you guys think? You still with me? Comment, comment, comment.