Sheriff Marcus x Reader

Fifteen

The dark of the stars illuminated the deep blue night while the silvery light of the moon traced the narrow path to the cemetery.

With a strange feeling in your chest, you let Marcus guide you.

Without a word he led the way, his gaze fixed on the path before him, while his hand held yours tightly. For a moment it felt like a normal stroll. It was just strange that he had asked you to visit the cemetery with him in the middle of the night.

But the feeling of his fingers holding yours tightly made everything seem fine. This was the first time since your return that he did something exactly as he did then. He used to hold your hand when he was walking, when he was nervous or uncomfortable, even when his parents joked that you were getting too old for that.

But now it felt different somehow.

It was no longer the same little boy's hands. Instead, it was a grown man holding you. And despite the thick leather gloves he had huge hands.

Somehow the thought made you blush.

Your eyes briefly jumped to the back of his head, the short-cropped hair already turning gray at the nape of his neck, and quickly away again.

Even from behind he looked good. How cruel of fate to bring such a good-looking man into the world and then make him unattainable.

At the cemetery, Marcus slowed down.

The grip on your hand loosened. Instead of crushing your fingers, he now took them loosely in his as if he were holding something fragile. Briefly his eyes jumped to you. The brown looked so dark in the night that it could have been ink.

Embarrassed, you avoided his gaze.

"Where are you taking me, Marcus?", you asked, looking around. "Want to bury me alive?"

Your gaze fell on a crypt, not particularly large or imposing. But unlike the other tombs, this one had a bust of an elderly woman sitting on the roof. She had a noble face, with hard eyes filled with pride. The way the stone looked down on the square made it seem like she was watching over all the fallen enforcers.

With a mild expression on his face, Marcus stepped to your side.

"This is Grayson.", he said. "You would have hated her. She was dutiful, strict, and clam. Your energy couldn't have done anything against her. You would have respected her, because that's what she was like. A person to whom one could pay nothing but respect."

At his glorious words, you had to smile.

"She sounds like a good woman."

"She was great. Exactly the mentor I needed."

"What happened to her?"

With a shake of his head, he closed his eyes.

"Someone else's stupidity. I used to think she was someone who respected the rules of our town only when it benefited her. Today I know... that sometimes you have to go other ways."

For a moment you kept silent. His words confused you, but somehow you could understand what he wanted to say.

"She was part of the business of the Undercity?", you finally asked.

When your gaze searched for him, he looked away.

"Not everything is black and white, you know...", with a gentle smile he raised his hand to brush a strand of your (H/C) hair from your face. "She knew she had to make bad deals to get good results. Piltover benefits from doing business with Zaun just as much as Zaun benefits from doing business with Piltover. But... I didn't bring you here to introduce you to Grayson. At least, not only."

With a gentle tug, he led you on, between lined-up graves of enforcers, and up to the cathedral. The golden flames of candles danced in the soft evening breeze as they cast shadows across the flowerbeds.

In front of a small bed, behind the cathedral, hidden under a tree, he stopped.

Curious, you glanced at the grave, only to open your eyes wide in surprise.

"There is my name.", you gasped. "And those of my parents."

With his lips pressed together, Marcus nodded and settled down on the grass. With his sudden movement, he startled fireflies.

Alarmed, the glowing bugs rose into the air, making the grave look as if stars were rising from the earth.

"I had it made for you.", he said, running his fingers over the black, smoothly polished marble stone. "It was finished on the very day I finished school. Your name was not yet on the stone. I... still hoped you would return."

As his gaze rose, a deep sadness shimmered in his eyes. Sadness mixed with guilt that he had dedicated a grave to a living friend.

With a deep sigh, you squatted in front of the tomb and pressed your forehead against the cold stone.

"Thank you...", you whispered. "It is strange that I have never dedicated a grave to them. I... always thought that they had just gone on a journey without me."

He forced himself to smile.

"I thought the same about you.", he admitted in a low voice. "And although there was no other possibility than your death, I thought, in this place I could see you once again. Or I hoped that your spirit would come to visit me."

You had to chuckle.

"Did you also perform rituals?", you asked jokingly. "Burning offerings and incense?"

Now he had to chuckle, too. His tension eased a little. But at the same moment his look became joyless again.

"I drank my first beer here.", he recalled, while his eyes were firmly fixed on the stone. "When I got accepted into the academy, I came here first, even before my parents knew. And after I graduated. I was here every day. But over time, hope just... faded. And I couldn't come here anymore. I didn't want to anymore."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you reached out to stroke his dark hair.

"It's okay...", you whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "If I was really dead then at least I would have had a place to find peace."

But when you wanted to put your arms around him, he gently pushed you away.

"I buried you.", Marcus gloomy eyes found yours. "No matter what now, you were dead to me. Things were... finished. And... I don't know if that can change. Or if I want them to."