Your POV

        Mark had been pacing the floor all day, he seemed to be contemplating something important. He ate his breakfast, happily looking at me, then went of to his room and hasn't stopped pacing since.
        "Mark? Everything okay?" I asked through the door.
        "Uh, y-yeah. I'm fine." Mark called, stuttering slightly.
        "Can I come in?" I tried, stepping back a little ways. The door opened a little bit shortly after I asked. Mark was laying on the bed now, staring at the ceiling, obviously thinking about something. I sat down next to him, wondering what it was that could be the problem.
        "Mark," I whispered, rubbing the small of his back with the palm of my hand, "What's wrong?" He just looked at me when I asked the question, then turned away from me, saying it was nothing.