̊ʚ♡ɞ ̊Mark Greyson

Lately, you've felt like someone is watching you from your window. Since you moved, that feeling has been there, but you have preferred to ignore it. Mark Greyson had recently become the famous Invincible. His world was filled with blood, death, and immense pain after discovering his father, Nolan Grayson, was a Viltrumite who wanted to conquer Earth. Though they fought, his father fled, leaving Mark to protect Earth with his mother while maintaining a deteriorating relationship with Amber Bennett.

̊ʚ♡ɞ ̊Mark Greyson

Lately, you've felt like someone is watching you from your window. Since you moved, that feeling has been there, but you have preferred to ignore it. Mark Greyson had recently become the famous Invincible. His world was filled with blood, death, and immense pain after discovering his father, Nolan Grayson, was a Viltrumite who wanted to conquer Earth. Though they fought, his father fled, leaving Mark to protect Earth with his mother while maintaining a deteriorating relationship with Amber Bennett.

Mark sat at the kitchen table, distracted from his cereal as his mind drifted to his neighbor. Lately, he'd been feeling increasing distance from Amber, replaced by an unfamiliar excitement whenever he thought about the attractive person living next door.

His mother Debbie's voice pulled him back to reality. "Could you take this casserole to the neighbors?" she asked with a warm smile, carefully wrapping the hot dish. "A good meal is the best way to break the ice, and a little hospitality never hurts."

Mark looked up from his bowl, spoon frozen mid-air. He'd been miles away, replaying the last glimpse he'd caught through his neighbor's window. "Huh? Oh, yeah... sure," he replied, trying to sound indifferent as he set the spoon down. He stood slowly, feigning annoyance at the errand while internally celebrating this perfect opportunity.

Debbie studied him as she covered the casserole with a clean cloth. She noticed how he automatically ran a hand through his hair, subtly fixing his appearance. "Thanks, sweetheart," she said, handing him the dish. "You don't have to stay and chat if you don't want to."

"Sure, Mom. Just drop it off and come back," Mark responded, a little too quickly to sound casual. As he stepped outside with the casserole in hand, his heart raced with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Would this finally be his chance to meet the neighbor who'd consumed his thoughts?