Sheriff Marcus x Reader

Twenty-Three

"You really have no shame, do you?", Marcus asked as he exited the elevator.

He didn't sound pissed or happy about what had happened but rather amused. Maybe he thought this was funny because he could tease you with this for the next eternity.

Sighing, you shook your head and threw a glance over your shoulder. But as soon as your eyes lay on him the apologetic expression on your face froze and turned into a mix of shock and confusion.

He wasn't wearing a proper outfit. Instead, he had only put on a clean t-shirt to cover his abs. He wore neither socks nor pants. Only the long, black boxer shorts covered his lower body.

You didn't know why, but at the sight you blushed and had to look away immediately. Clearing your throat, you rubbed the back of your neck and pretended to look at the bomb.

"That was... that was an accident.", you mumbled.

He chuckled.

Footsteps approached. Suddenly he was standing behind you. His gaze wandered briefly over your body, then he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Irritated, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

He smirked. For some reason, he seemed pleased about something.

With one eyebrow raised, you turned to him.

"What are you doing?", you asked, sliding on top of his desk.

With a grin, he leaned forward, so close that the warmth of his breath brushed your cheek.

You blushed at the touch.

"What? Does that make you uncomfortable?", he raised an eyebrow and came even closer.

Panicking, you slid further onto the desk.

"Marcus?", your eyes wandered uncertainly over his face.

"What? You just saw me naked and now you're embarrassed?"

"I said it was an accident!"

"And I want to see you suffer for it."

"I do... I really do!", you pressed out, jerking your eyes away from his.

Marcus grinned.

"Why so tense? It's not the first time you've seen me naked. And now my underwear bothers you? I even put on a t-shirt. Just for you."

For a moment you had to press your lips tightly together not to scream out loud.

He enjoyed this way too much.

"Marcus. Seriously... I- I need a drink..?"

He nodded, leaned even further forward and reached behind the table to pull out a bottle of whiskey. He poured you a particularly full glass, handed it to you, and put the bottle to his lips.

With a gulp, you emptied the glass. The alcohol burned in your throat, made it hard to swallow. It tasted as if you were drinking disinfectant.

You pulled a face.

"Too strong?", he asked with a grin.

You shrugged.

"Better than doing this sober."

Immediately you wanted more.

He poured you a refill. But he noticed that you still didn't look completely relaxed. Rolling his eyes, he stepped back and settled on the armchair by the window. He took a sip.

"Usually you have such a big mouth, and now you're acting like a nun?", he joked, looking out the window.

Again you drank a little. Your gaze jumped in the other direction, you had to rub the back of your neck to keep from going crazy.

"The problem is not that I saw you naked.", you tried to explain. "It's that you look so... so... Uhh?"

With your finger outstretched, you pointed at him as if that would help your point make more sense.

Frowning, he looked down at himself.

"That bad?"

"What? No! I mean...", you blushed. "You look like this."

"I don't get your point?"

Sighing, you rolled your eyes.

"Marcus. You're hot."

Struck by surprise he froze. For a moment he looked at you, then at himself and took another sip.

"Thanks... I guess?"

A hint of red appeared on his cheeks but he did not seem to be flattered.

His reaction surprised you. Judging by his looks you would have expected him to be used to such comments.

Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him.

"What? Never heard that one before?", you asked, baffled. "Come on Marcus, don't tell me nobody ever complimented you. That's just ridiculous."

"How so?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?", you slid to the edge of the desk, closer to him. "You're hot. Good looking? Handsome? I mean you always had a nice face but the beard, as thin as it might be, bumps it up by a few points. And we don't have to talk about the rest. I approve. Your personality though? That might be an issue..."

"Excuse me?", hiding a grin, he frowned. "You say that as if ladies chase me."

"You're telling me they don't? Seriously, grumpy, I need you to answer this honestly."

Taking a sip from his drink, he chuckled.

"Uh, no. But there was someone once...", he admitted while shaking the small amount of alcohol in his glass.

He sounded so melancholic, maybe even a little bit hurt.

Tilting your head, you eyes him.

It was easy to sense that he had a bit of trouble talking about it. But the fact that he mentioned it made you think he was willing to remember if you gave it a little push into the right direction.

"What happened?", you asked carefully.

He sighed. His brown eyes closed as he let his head fall back. A slim smile was on his lips as he lost himself in the memories.

"We were young. She was my first love, well... the first...", he shook his head. "I loved her. I really did. But..."

"Bad relationship?"

"Good and bad. Not everything can be pleasant. Sometimes relationships need work. We needed a lot but in the end it always worked out for us."

"How boring.", you teased.

He nodded.

"It was. But I was happy."

"I'm glad. So? When can I meet her?"

Suddenly, the smile on his lips faded.

"She's... not here anymore.", he looked at you and smiled again. "She died."

It was a sad, kind of depressed smile.

You pulled a face.

"Right into the guts, (Y/N)...", you scolded yourself silently. "Fucking great..."

You jumped from the desk, walked around and pulled some more bottles from his secret stach.

Frowning, he eyed you.

"What are you doing?", he asked.

You wiggled with the bottles.

"You know what? This calls for a night of drinking. How about it? Let's get drunk."