Sheriff Marcus x Reader

Twenty-One

Silently, you sat on the windowsill in Marcus' office, looking out as he placed something on his desk.

Nobody had mentioned your physical state again after returning. He had accepted the silence even though it did not satisfy the urge to know the truth.

Your eyes briefly jumped in his direction, catching the outline of an object just as big as his hand.

The sight looked familiar. It was exactly the same kind of bomb the man had used to blow himself and the other informant up. If it had indeed been an informant.

However, there was something different about this bomb. There were drawings on the outside, but they weren't just pink and blue like on the one you had seen. Among the scribbles, could be now found green lines that formed the Firelights' mark.

You frowned in confusion.

"Firelights?", you asked.

Torn from his thoughts, Marcus looked up.

"Huh?", he blinked, obviously not living in the moment.

When his face turned to you, you noticed a dark spot on the left side of his cheek. Mud covered his clothes. He must have been running otherwise he wouldn't look so messy.

You didn't mention it and instead pointed to the bomb.

"Where did you get that?", you asked.

His eyes followed your finger.

"That...", he grabbed the thing and turned it in his hand as if he was looking at it properly for the first time. "The informant gave it to me. It matches the evidence at the Progress Fair."

"The attack on progress day? When Jayce was elected as a council member?"

He nodded.

"It's safe to say that the series of attacks came from the Firelights. They've caused us problems before."

"That's what I was told as well. One of the reasons why they wanted me back in Piltover."

Nodding understanding, he turned back to the paperwork.
You did not mention that his informant had killed himself with exactly the same kind of bomb. It seemed to make little sense that someone who had any kind of connection to those terrorists would be willing to do business with Marcus. He was the sheriff himself while they were actively rebelling against the Topside.

Something felt wrong.

Your gaze returned to the sky.

Darkness fell again. Another day had passed and nothing had changed. The discovery he had made did not feel like progress.

While sitting there, staring at the sky, a strange smell hit your nose. Disgusted, you pulled a face and looked around to find the source.

Your gaze fell onto Marcus again.

The stench that was stuck to his uniform was terrible. He smelled like Zaun but with all those little disgusting extras like butchered rotten meat and piss.

"You should go wash up.", you mumbled. "You stink. And you make everything dirty."

He paused. Briefly he tried to smell his clothes inconspicuously and had to wrinkle his nose the next moment. With one hand pressed over his mouth, he gagged.

"I smell like a cesspool...", he growled and took off his uniform jacket.

Your eyes followed his movement.

A white shirt was revealed under the thick, blue fabric. It was tighter than the rest of his clothes. The cut of the uniform had made him look loose, perhaps a bit roundish. But the shirt was so tight that his broad arms and trained chest were unmistakable. It seemed to be glued to his torso.

He looked good, trained, quite well in shape for his age. Maybe even attractive, but you would never have admitted that out loud.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. His arms rose to stroke through the black strands of hair and the fabric around his bulging muscles tightened.

You had to inhale sharply at the sight. Heat rose to your face. You were blushing.

Why were you blushing?

You were supposed to be mad at him not drooling all over yourself because of the man that your childhood best friend has turned into.

Hastily you looked away.

"Can I leave you alone for a moment?", he asked in a surprisingly good mood. "I'll jump into the community shower a floor down."

You nodded.

"No problem.", you pressed out and tried obsessively to keep your eyes fixed on the sky.

He didn't notice how strangely you were behaving, got up and walked towards the elevator, but stopped in front of it and glanced at you again.

"If you want to take a too shower, you can go after me.", he suggested but sounded unsure. "You don't smell any better than I do."

You nodded and made a hand gesture.

"Get out of here.", you said, but you couldn't hide a grin.

A few minutes passed, maybe even half an hour as you started to feel the need to pee. It had been there for a good amount of time and you had hoped to push it back as long as possible.

Unfortunately, the office had no bathroom, or it was just really well hidden. Marcus had not returned yet either, so asking him wasn't an option.

He had mentioned that the community showers were one floor below so maybe you would have some luck there.

All you had to do was avoid invading Marcus' privacy. But toilets and showers were most likely separated so that wouldn't be a problem.

Sighing, you got up and took the elevator. As the doors opened a hot, steamy wave of air hit your face.

"Holy...", you mumbled. "He must be showering with boiling water..."

It would have been useful to follow the steam and find out under which door it passed, in order to be able to identify it unambiguously as the door to the showers.

But that would have been too easy.

The whole air was foggy and the hallway so humid and warm that it was impossible to tell exactly where Marcus was showering. The sound of running water echoing off the walls only made everything more irritating.

"Fuck!", you sighed. "Please don't be in here, please don't be in here, please don't be in here. Please..."

Groaning, you accepted your fate and carefully began to push on each door and take a peek into the room beyond.

Your bladder felt like it was going to burst at any moment.

Tense, you worked your way forward, door by door, down the hallway, until white tiles finally appeared behind one.

"Thank god!", relieved, you slipped into the room.