Chapter Three: "Empty Desire"

                                    

                                          
Mark stomped the snow off his boots, then wondered off toward the back wall to look over the nooks stacked with loafs of bread.  Jack bit his lip, trying to look busy behind the counter.  His hands absently dusted the counter of flour and crumbs, despite nothing really being there.  He wanted to say something, but just couldn't get himself to say a word.  Mark removed two long loafs of bread down, then ventured up to the counter.  Jack stepped back from the counter, not wanting to crowd him.  Setting the loafs on the counter, he asked him casually.  "Do you have any fresh potato bread? I hate to be that guy... but nothing beats warm bread."  Jack blushed a little, telling him honestly.  "I'll check."  Leaving Mark, Jack finally let himself breathe and scolded himself.  Walking up to the row of cooling racks, he used a bread cloth to grab it and wrapped it up.  Cradling it as he walked out, he told Mark a bit nervously.  "This is fresh. What do you think?"  He pulled the cloth back to show him the heat that steamed up from the warm bread.  Mark leaned forward to smell it, closing his eyes to savor it, before telling him happily.  "Perfect. How much do I owe you?"  Jack tallied the prices in his head, then answered him without looking at him.  
                          
Mark removed his coin bag, digging around for the coins to pay him.  Sliding the coins across the counter to him, Mark asked him curiously.  "What do you think of the Huntsmen? Pretty intense, right?"  Slipping the coins into a box under the counter, Jack told him honestly.  "Ya. I never would have thought that Miss Hawthorn was a... As intimidating as they are. I am hoping that they can help us. At the very least, I hope they can clear them out enough that some of us can get free of this place."  Mark tore a piece of bread from his potato loaf, slipping it into his mouth, when he prodded out softly.  "What's this? You don't like Lupine?"  Jack finally looked him in the eyes.  He was going to start listing all the things he hated, until he saw Mark flash him a playful grin.  Gesturing around, Mark sarcastically teased out.  "You can't handle the harsh cold? All this fresh air? Or is it all the barking from the neighbor's dogs? You wanted peace and quiet and got... all this."  Jack chuckled, blushing a soft pink when he said under his breath.  "Something like that."  Jack turned around to count how many cookies he had in each little shelf basket.  He told himself to stop blushing, but it was hard.  Why did he have to be so charming?  
                          
Behind him, Mark chuckled and told him nicely.  "You know... If you leave, my parents will be devastated. Between those sweet tarts my mom loves and the bread my dad has with dinner every night... This town will get grouchier from hunger pains. And what about me?"  Jack stiffened, his hands slowly pushing the cookie basket back into a nook.  The words ran up his spine enough to give him chills.  Had he heard him right?  Would Mark miss him?  Glancing over his shoulder shyly, Jack perked up.  Only to have Mark finish coolly.  "If you leave, this town won't smell nearly as good. There is nothing like the smell of freshly baked bread on a winter's morning! You'd take that away from me?"  Jack rolled his eyes, his heart sinking as he went back to counting cookies. The soft knocking on the counter drew his attention back to see Mark, who was knocking his bruised and rough hands on the wood.  Meeting his eyes, Mark asked him with gentle curiosity.  "Hey...? If you left, where would you go?"  Jack turned to face him, crossing his arms, when he asked bluntly in return.  "Don't you want to leave? What place wouldn't be better than here?"  
                          
Mark rested his arms on the counter, picking apart his bread when he answered in a calming tone of voice.  "You sure it's the place and not the people you want away from?"  Jack slowly unfolded his arms, while Mark smirked a little and added gently.  "I've lived a lot of places. All of them beautiful. The people there... Not so much."  Jack wondered if he was on the list of people that he didn't care for.  Mark nibbled on the bread, avoiding his eyes now as he regaled a distantly.  "Every place has its problems. No place is perfect. A home is what you make it. For me... This is home."  Jack inched a bit closer, putting a hand on the counter as he retorted back nicely.  "You'd get better work in the city. Here you have to make do with supplies that you have and people that are too poor to commission much from you."  Mark straightened up, smiling as he stated back confidently.  "True. But then I'd have to work twice as hard to compete with OTHER carpenters in the city. Eventually, losing my passion to craft things in order to keep up with demands. Here. Business may be slow. But I can take the time to put heart and quality into everything I do. I fulfil a need here."  Mark put a piece of bread into his mouth, then smiled at him genuinely when he added.  "I only asked because... While we love you here. Wherever you go, they might not need you as much as we do."