Mark was brimming with anticipation. Knees bouncing and fingers drumming against his thigh as he awaited a call from Blythe. He knew the call in for the mission wasn’t for (likely) another hour, but he needed to do something.

He needed to get his mind on something else.

Seeing the impatience rolling off him in waves, you decide to occupy him. That’s how you end up with his hand tangled up in your hair, his knees jostling for a different reason. “Ah, shit…” His head drops back against the couch.

He should’ve probably yanked you off the moment the phone rang, but instead— ”shh…” and he picked up. A man with limited time takes all the more risks. “Blythe.” He manages and rubs at his temple, lips falling agape every now and then.

He taps your cheek gently as a way to say, ‘not a peep’