It was sinfully late as Marcus wrapped things up and decided to go home.

You had fallen asleep on his window sill in the meantime. As he moved, your eyes twitched but refused to open. You wanted to lose yourself a little longer in this world of childhood dreams before returning to the much less pleasant reality.

His words still echoed inside your head, like a curse.

As he saw you like this, your head resting against the glass, eyes tightly shut, Marcus couldn't help but feel some sort of curiosity. Slowly, he dared to get up from his chair and walked over to you. The steps of his heavy boots filled the silence.

But you did not react. Your lips curled briefly, a small sound escaped you.

He stopped, his eyes wandering over your face, checking if you would wake up. But you didn't. A relived breath escaped him.

Your head fell to the side, strand of your (H/C) hair fell into your face.

His hand twitched. Marcus still remembered how your hair had felt back then, twisting and turning between his fingers. It had been soft, he recalled and always smelled good. Or maybe it had been your smell that he had liked so much. He couldn't remember.

With tender care he reached out to grab the strand and make it dance between his fingers just like he used to do it. It was feeling just the same.

A trembling breath escaped him.

"Not everything has changed, huh?", his eyes lowered as he knelt down to remind himself how it had felt to glance up at your sleeping face. "You're trapped inside this dream that we had... and I fell out of it. You have no idea how it hurt to come home that day, to an empty room, to be all alone again. I thought it would be us against the world... But now it's just me."

Suddenly, a sad feeling tied his throat. His eyes burned, but he blinked quickly to get rid of it. As he got up again, his face was a cold, emotionless mask. He bumped his fist against your shoulder, harsh but not hurtful.

"Wake up.", his voice did not give away the moment of weakness he's had mere seconds ago. "It's late. (Y/N)! I want to go home."

Your head twitched, eyes opening slightly.

"Hm?", still sleepy, you glanced up at him.

For a moment he seemed to be the boy from your memories again, no beard growth, still always grumpy but soft for you. It felt like the grown up man had just been a bad dream.

The blurry sight made you tear your eyes open in surprise. All of a sudden you were awake. A smile brightened up your face.

But as his cold, displeased face appeared, the feeling of happiness vanished. A hint of disappointment lit up inside your eyes.

He noticed, but did not comment on it despite feeling attacked. Maybe even hurt a little.

"I want to go home.", he said and offered you a hand.

For a moment you eyed the brown glove.

As you placed your hand in his to let him help you get down from the window sill, you noticed how big his hands were. The sheer strength in his arms was enough to make you wonder how strong the rest of his body was.

His shoulders were broader, he was taller and even the muscles on his chest were slightly hinted underneath the uniform. He had grown up to be a handsome man, you couldn't deny that.

"How late is it?", you asked, rubbing your eyes.

He threw a glance over his shoulder.

"Late, even for my standards.", he said and walked you to the elevator.

As the door opened, he let you get inside first.

It was nice to see that he was still a gentleman, just like his mother had raised him.

Silence spread between the two of you. It was obvious that it made him uncomfortable because Marcus couldn't stop tapping his fingers on the surface of the helmet that he held under his arm.

You couldn't help but smirk.

"Is my presence this hard to enjoy?", you asked, not looking at him.

The tapping stopped. A deep breath escaped him. With his eyes closed, he massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Let's just say everything that has happened today is hard to take in.", he mumbled.

His eyes jumped up to the number plate, checking what floor the elevator was passing at the moment.

"Take your time. I suppose it's unfair of me to expect you to be thrilled. I did some damage, I get it. But don't worry, it will be fine."

"You really seem to want this."

"You don't?"

He swallowed hard. For a moment, his round lips remained sealed.

"I'm not sure.", Marcus finally whispered. "The little boy in me is crying tears of joy that you're back. But... the man that I am today hates you for everything."

Sighing, you reached out and pressed the emergency button.

Immediately, the elevator stopped.

Struck by surprise, he stumbled back and almost crashed into the mirror wall. While struggling to regain his balance, he dropped the helmet.

With a rattling sound it fell to the ground, rolled across the small room and bumped into the tip of your shoes.

"What the hell?!", Marcus growled, not even noticing that the sudden force had not effected you in the slightest.

With a sad look on your face, you picked up the helmet to look at it.

"I regret that I couldn't be by your side throughout the training.", you said, sighing softly. "I wanted to graduate with you, have my first drink with you, work my way to the top side by side. But we can't change the past now. I am willing to do everything to fix my mistakes, to make you forgive me. Just tell me Marcus, what do I have to do to get my best friend back?"

With his eyes lowered, he curled his lips and frowned.

"Just... tell me the truth.", his eyes locked with yours. "Tell me why you've been gone, the real reason. Tell me why you're really back. What for? Who are you now, (Y/N)?"

A burning pain stabbed into your heart. You handed him the helmet back.

"I'm sorry...", you whispered, feeling the worst you've ever felt. "I can't tell you."