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He was too good for you.
He was nice, and sweet, and he was too good for you.
You had a reason to put down for him loving you before, but now... It just seemed like you were dead weight. Maybe not even that. Maybe you felt like just weight, weight that he didn’t deserve to have on his shoulders.
You didn’t want him to be the one to be disappointed when you smoked cigarettes before school. You didn’t want him to be the one to ask you to go to class when you so desperately wanted to ditch.
You didn’t want to have to be weight.
And now he was just lingering on your mind, and you were desperately trying to figure out why he loved you.
He loved you.
But for what reason? Why did anyone love you before? You were bad influence, a bad person, you could take someone from their highest levels and kick them down to rock bottom.
You wouldn be lying if you said hadn’t wanted to ask him to smoke, ditch, vandalise with you. You wanted to. But you never asked, and you supposed he tried not to stop you.
There were plenty of your other friends who could care less about what you did. You bummed off of them, and they didn’t seem to mind.
Mark was too good for you.
You weren’t good enough, you were never going to be good enough. He was too good for-
“(YN),” a voice stopped you from your train of thought.
“What?” you asked, turning your head to see Mark looking at you worriedly.
“What did you mean?”
“About...what?”
“You said... You said I'm too good for you.” You felt anger rise up against yourself for talking out loud.
“It's nothing, alright?” you assured. “Ignore it.”
“No.” You looked at him curiously. “I'm not going to let you think that you're not good enough.”
“That's...not- Okay, Mark, just don't think about it too much, okay? Just-”
“(YN).” Mark turned to face you fully, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Don't ever think I'm too good for you. I'm not.”
“But I-”
“You're just going through a bad patch right now, okay?”
“I'm not a good person, Mark, you should know that by now.” You shrugged off his shoulders. “I'll be right back.” You stood up, and seeing as you both were in your bedroom, you reached for your cigarettes on the side table.
“I don't want you to smoke those,” Mark said quietly. You saw him looking down at his lap. “Please.”
Up until now, it was always, “Okay,” or, “Be careful.” Never this.
“Mark...,” you said, about to turn away again.
“And I don't want you to skip class so often, either. Or break things at school.” Your hand instinctively put the cigarettes down, like Mark was single-handedly controlling it with his words.
“Why are you-” you tried again, but he cut you off.
“I always want to tell you not to do things like this,” he said. “But I know that you probably won't listen.” It became silent. You said nothing, so Mark continued. “I want to help, but I feel like maybe you don't want it, or that I'm just going to set you back on what you want to do. Like I'm just going to be an annoying weight.”
There was that word again.
Weight.
“I'll quit,” you found yourself saying before you could stop yourself. And when you realised your words, you kept going. “And I'll go to class. And I won't break things and steal from the school.” Mark shook his head.
“But you don't really-”
“Mark, I want to.” You sat down, abandoning your cigarette pack completely. “I just...” You looked away. “I didn't want you to have to be the one to deal with it.” Mark shook his head and hugged you.
“You and I both know that I'd help you out of something bad no matter what,” he said quietly. You felt tears threaten to escape. You hadn't cried in a long while. You assumed now was an appropriate time.
Throughout the following week, you cut back on smoking, showed up to more classes. You stopped vandalising the school walls. The following month, the only cigarettes you smoked were ones offered, and that happened less than often. You had one class you refused to show up to. You left the school property at school.
Three months had passed.
“Let's recap,” Mark said, as you had been doing this every few days.
“Okay, go,” you said and nodded.
“When was the last time you smoked?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Last time you skipped class?”
“Last week, but that's because I needed lunch!” Mark nodded and raised his hand.
“Okay, okay, and last time you stole or broke something school-related?”
“One month.” Mark grinned, making you let out a sigh. “I can't believe I'm making you do this.”
“What have I said before?” You grinned a little now, playing back a phrase Mark made.
“No one's too good, and we all want to help.” Mark nodded.
“And what else have I said before?” You reached over to pull him close and plant a kiss on his lips. “Close...” You kissed more. “Almost...” You pulled off for a second, rolling your eyes before going in for a full on kiss, long and deep and loving. “That's the one,” Mark said.
“Hey, I've got a phrase, too,” you said as you stood up.
“Oh, really? What is it?” You sat down on your bed.
“Come over here and I'll tell you.” You gave him a smirk and he stood up to join you.
“You know, you may not be so bad anymore, but...,” Mark kissed you, making you chuckle, “you are still very, very bad.”