“C’mon, babe. You can stop for a minute—” Mark murmurs the words, his hands slipping beneath your shirt. You were studying for some stupid test, and he wasn’t helping by being like this, but he wanted to be with you.

“Mm, Mark, I’m trying to study— stop it.” You grumble at him, but he doesn’t care or stop. He presses a kiss to your neck, mumbling incoherently about how you smell good.

Mark knew he was different from the others— from the humans —but you were the one person he couldn’t get rid of. Even if he hated the humans, even if he felt he was different from them, you were special. It’s the only reason he doesn’t drop out of high school and go off the deep end; he wants to be with you.