Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mark let out a slow breath, glad Riley hadn't noticed the news feed on that last subject because it was probably about him. Wow, taking the website down had actually made it to the morning news? The world was really messed up. The 'Unknown Model' was a nickname most of the fans had given Riley, seeing as they didn't know his actual name, though Mark himself wished that they could've thought of something more creative.

"Yup." He lazily agreed, before looking over at the other worriedly. "You alright? Maybe I should change you bandages again ..." Mark wasn't exactly sure how often the wrappings should be changed.

The comment made the brown haired teen look ashamedly down at his feet. "I know." But, when he looked up he saw just what great angle Riley had made.

Mark really wanted to take a picture. It wasn't every day that Riley just seemed to fall into a naturally beautiful pose that reflected just how beautiful he really was. Well why not? Riley already knew he took pictures/ Might as well get this business out in the open then. So he casually pulled out a small digital camera he kept for such occasions and took a picture, as nonchalant about it as he was at running a hand though his own hair. He'd had plenty of practice at it after all.

He lower the camera so he could look at Riley in the eye when the other was talking instead of seeing him second-hand though a camera lens or screen. The look the other was giving him almost deserved another picture, but Mark waited for Riley to say what he was going to say. Though, the picture he'd just taken was definitely a keeper.

Nevermind? Fine. Giving a shrug Mark put his camera onto the coffee table, not wanting to put it back into his pocket because sometimes it dug into his hip if he was sitting down with it there, and got more comfortable on the couch, listening to interesting and not-so-interesting facts about sea turtles. "Are you sure ..." Mark said into the silence between them, the only noise coming from the TV, "... that you're not mad?" About the stabbing and the pictures.

At first, Mark seemed to slouch into himself like a wilting flower. Riley was mad after all. But as the other continued Mark hesitantly sat up straight again. He felt a wave of relief go though his system. "I'll keep the pictures to myself," he said, nodding, and settling back down on the couch, letting himself sink into it, "I never really thought the site would be found either it just ... happened." Or get as popular as it did.

Mark felt a tension leave him as he realized that Riley really wasn't mad. It seemed to drain the nervous anxiety right out of him, making the teen become as limp as a wet noodle, curling into a bit of a ball as he watched the nature program with less and less attention as time went by, starting to fall asleep again. He hadn't realized just how wired all of that worrying had made him.

"Mm-hm ..." Mark sleepily reached down over the side of the couch to grab his pillow. Seeing Riley fall asleep he gave a small, secret smile, taking one last picture with a small chuckle, before pulling the blankets up over the other so that he was warm before curling back into his ball on his end of the couch, turning off the television and going to sleep, using the pillow like a teddy bear/head rest.

The couch was an old, worn thing, but nice and soft place to sleep all the same, though it was a bit crowded with two young males on it, even if one of the two was still curled into a shape that resembled a lopsided ball with his knees close to his chest.

Mark all but fell off of the couch at the unexpected cell phone ringing though, blearily looking around has his ears told him that something was ringing somewhere while his eyes refused to focus with any quickness whatsoever. "Wha?" He clumsily got to his feet, stumbling over to where the cell phone must have fallen out of Riley's pocket when he'd carried the other in. "Allo?" He asked, going back to the couch and leaning on it, looking far from fully functioning. Ugh ... how long was I asleep?

Ugh. Loud. Obnoxious. Girls? Ew. Mark didn't need to be told twice. He flipped the cell shut, handing it back to it's owner, blinking sleepily at his watch. He was sore all over from sleeping curled up instead of sprawled out and at awkward position on the couch, but the time made him blink in confusion. It's ... tomorrow?

How the hell had that happened? Two possible answers: 1. he'd been more worried than he thought. 2. The new medication he was on was one heck of a KO'er.

Rubbing his face and trying to wake up more, Mark mentally drew a little imaginary star by his mental note to see his doctor. Freaking out ... sleeping too long ... there was something whacked up about his new and 'better' prescription and he didn't like it. The thought of girls hanging off of Mark like pale, slimy spaghetti noodles didn't help his attitude either.

With a tired sigh he asked Riley, vaguely wondering if the other had slept just as long as he had with that injury: "Want something to eat?" He was defiantly going to change the other's bandages soon though.

"Nothing's wrong," an easy lie, "though I think I should change your bandages even if the antibacterial stuff is cold. I think it's supposed to be done once a day while the injury is still raw ..."

Shuffling around in his closet and bringing the medical kit over, Mark sat down and pulled what he needed out. It seemed that no would not be taken as an answer. But, after pulling out the gell-ish stuff, Mark rubbed it between his hands, using the friction to warm in up a bit. He was glad to see his friend was improving though, very glad.