Unwritten Fate [BL]
Chapter 98: Not Quite Apart

Chapter 98: Not Quite Apart

Mark blinked against the morning light, stretching as he sat up. His phone lay face down on the pillow beside him, untouched since last night.

He sat up slowly, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders, and shuffled barefoot into the main room.

Mr. Dand was already lacing up his boots near the door, dressed and ready to go.

A folded jacket sat on the stool beside him, and the scent of leftover breakfast still lingered faintly in the air.

Mark rubbed at his eyes. "You heading out this early?"

Mr. Dand glanced over his shoulder. "They already left. I’m just catching up."

Mark moved closer, leaning a hand on the wall. "Billy and Artur?"

A nod. "Started on the east shed. Today’s the log work, remember?"

Mark smirked, voice a little raspy. "You still remember how to wrangle two men around, huh?"

Mr. Dand chuckled under his breath. "They’re quicker than you ever were."

Mark scoffed, half-laughing. "Watch it, Pop. I might take that personally."

Mr. Dand stood, grabbing his jacket. "If the shoe fits."

Mark watched him for a beat, a touch of something unspoken in his gaze. "Need help?"

Mr. Dand paused at the door. "Only if you’re really offering."

Mark gave a lazy shrug, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I’ll think about it."

Mr. Dand grunted with a smile. "Thought so."

The door creaked open, letting in a breeze and a sliver of sunlight. Mr. Dand stepped out, boots crunching lightly against the path.

Mark lingered by the door, fingers absently rubbing his neck.

The silence behind him pressed in, unspoken and familiar. He turned back into the room—no footsteps following.

Mark tugged on a loose t-shirt and joggers, fingers fumbling at the laces.

His body still carried the weight of travel, but maybe the trail could loosen what sleep hadn’t.

He stepped outside and stretched his arms over his head, then twisted side to side, loosening his back.

The morning air was sharp, but not unfriendly. A couple of villagers passed by in the distance.

Mark ignored them, setting off at a steady pace down the familiar path near the house.

It had been a long time since he’d jogged here—things looked different now, but the trail still curved the same way. He sped up, the rhythm of his steps syncing with his breath.

Just as he rounded the corner past a low fence, his footfall quickened—too fast, too sharp—and—

"Whoa—!"

An arm caught him clean at the waist before he could crash forward.

Mark stumbled, gripping the stranger’s shoulders instinctively, breath caught in his throat.

He looked up.

Jay.

Their faces hovered close—too close for comfort, too far for indifference.

Mark’s hands gripped Jay’s shoulders without thinking, and for a beat, neither moved.

Jay’s grip stayed firm, one hand at Mark’s waist, the other steadying his elbow.

Jay blinked first. You run like you’re trying to outrun your own shadow.

Mark straightened quickly, stepping back. "You walk like you own the whole damn road."

"I do," Jay said with a shrug, his tone flat but eyes sharp. "You just forgot."

Mark brushed the front of his shirt, trying to shrug off the moment. "Could’ve let me fall. Might’ve improved my day."

Jay smirked faintly. "Nah. Then I’d have to carry you back. Too much work."

They stood there a second longer, the silence thick enough to cut. Then Mark took a step to the side, muttering, "Next time, just move."

Jay, already walking past him, didn’t look back. "Next time, try not to run like a loose cart."

Mark was about to continue running when he heard Jay’s footsteps still behind him.

He turned, scowling. "Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?"

Jay rolled his shoulders lazily. "Was. Changed my mind."

"Why?"

Jay stepped beside him, keeping pace with irritating ease. "Thought I’d follow you instead. Watching you run is mildly entertaining."

Mark narrowed his eyes. "You’ve got issues."

Jay grinned. "You’ve got a sharp tongue for someone who almost fell into my arms."

Mark stopped walking. "So where are you going now? Gonna keep stalking me around the village?"

"I was heading to join Billy and Artur," Jay said simply. "But I figured annoying you might be more fun."

"Then congratulations," Mark muttered, turning again. "You’ve succeeded."

Jay caught his arm before he could take off again. "Come eat with me first."

"I’m not hungry."

Jay tilted his head. "You’re always grumpy. Maybe food will fix that."

Mark tugged his arm free. "You seriously think I’d sit and eat with you?"

You crashed into me and got a free hug. Bold move. Jay said, mock-offended. "Least you can do is buy me breakfast."

"I didn’t—! You caught me!"

Jay didn’t wait for more. He turned and started walking toward the nearby food stall like he already knew Mark would follow.

Mark stood still, glaring at his back. But his stomach betrayed him with a low grumble.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Jay glanced over his shoulder, smug. "I heard that."

Mark caught up reluctantly, brushing past him. "If I regret this, I’m blaming the fall."

Jay smirked. "You’re welcome in advance."

The two sat across from each other at a small stall tucked between aging wooden walls and stacked crates.

A thin curl of steam rose from the bowls placed in front of them, but the air between them felt anything but warm.

Jay picked up his chopsticks first, poking at the food. "Don’t look so miserable. It’s not poisoned."

Mark raised an eyebrow, slowly grabbing his own. You didn’t cook it, did you?

Please. If I had, you’d already be begging for mercy.

I don’t beg.

Jay looked up, smirking. Not even when you ran into me like a flailing idiot?

"That again?" Mark leaned back slightly. "I didn’t run into you—I was exercising. You were loitering."

Jay chuckled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Mark picked up his chopsticks, pausing just long enough to catch Jay’s gaze.

He took a bite—chewing slow, watching him like someone waiting for the punchline of a joke he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

For a beat, neither spoke.

Then, Jay broke the quiet. "So... what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Mark blinked. "Did you just hit me with a pickup line from 2008?"

Jay shrugged. "Could’ve fooled me with that run. Looked like you were escaping something."

Mark stared at him, jaw tight. Then looked away. "Maybe I was."

Jay’s smirk faltered just slightly.

He lowered his chopsticks and leaned forward. "This village has that effect. On everyone."

Mark looked up again. "Even on you?"

Jay’s expression shifted—just for a flicker—before the walls came back up. "Let’s just say... I get it."

Mark didn’t respond. But for the first time, his shoulders dropped just a little. Some of the edge between them eased—not gone, just dulled.

Jay grabbed the last dumpling from his bowl and popped it in his mouth. "Anyway, we should go. Wouldn’t want to miss all the fun log-lifting."

Mark stood without answering, brushing his hands off as he walked past Jay.

Jay followed.

Not side by side.

Not quite apart either.

The dirt path stretched ahead, narrow and uneven, cutting through tall grass swaying gently in the breeze.

Mark kept his pace steady, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Jay walked beside him, a little too casually, hands in his pockets like he had nowhere better to be.

The silence walked beside them, saying more than either of them dared to.

Then Jay nudged a small stone with the toe of his boot. "So, how long are you planning to stay?"

Mark didn’t look at him. "Don’t know. You?"

"I live here."

"That’s not what I asked."

Jay smirked, glancing sideways. "Why so curious? Worried you’ll miss me when I’m gone?"

Mark sighed through his nose. "I’d throw a party."

Jay laughed. "A Mark party. Sounds cold and full of judgment."

They rounded a corner, past a small fence with drying clothes hanging lazily on a line. Mark shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Why do you even keep bothering me?" he asked, more annoyed than truly angry.

Jay slowed his steps for a moment, then said with a shrug, "Because it’s fun."

Mark stopped walking.

Jay stopped too, turning back to face him.

Mark stared at him, unreadable. "You’re an idiot."

Jay smiled, just slightly. "Takes one to know one."

For a beat, they just stood there—neither moving, neither breaking the odd tension that had always followed them like a shadow. Then Mark rolled his eyes and turned back toward the road.

"Come on. Let’s just get this over with."

Jay followed without another word.

Ahead, the distant sound of voices and work echoed faintly through the trees.

Billy and Artur were close.

And the walk, though filled with jabs and silence, somehow didn’t feel as long as it used to.

The trees parted just enough to reveal the open clearing where logs were stacked unevenly near the edge of the old east shed. Billy had his sleeves rolled up, sweat already darkening the fabric around his collar as he bent to lift a beam with Artur.

They moved in sync, almost wordless—Billy adjusting his grip, Artur steadying the weight as they carried it to the far side.

Jay whistled low. "They’re already at it."

Mark stepped forward, brushing a loose twig off his shirt. "Then let’s not stand here like we’re on a field trip."

Billy looked up at the sound of their voices, surprise flashing across his face, followed by a half-smile. "You two came together?"

"Don’t remind me," Mark muttered, walking over.

Jay grinned. "He was lost without me."

Artur chuckled softly, shaking his head as he straightened up. "Well, since you’re both here... grab some gloves. There’s still plenty to carry."

Mark took the gloves from Artur without a word. Jay grabbed his pair with a shrug.

Billy handed Mark a bottle of water. "Glad you came."

Mark looked at him briefly—something unreadable flickering in his eyes—then nodded. "Just don’t expect me to make this a habit."

Jay, already heading for the next log, called back, "Too late, city boy. You’re one of us now."

Mark scoffed. "Keep dreaming."

But for the first time, the weight in Mark’s hands felt steady—not like a man drifting through, but someone anchoring himself without meaning to.