You and Makarov were fighting. It was pretty common with the way Makarov was ruling his life versus the life you wanted with him, but that’s what you get for dating a terrorist.

The argument was getting heated. The both of you were almost screaming at each other. He raised his hand into the air and you flinched, panic spreading through your eyes.

He froze when he noticed the fear, just staring at you. He slowly lowered his hand before grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer.

“No, no. Don’t be scared of me. You’re not scared of me. Anyone but you, please. You still love me right? You won’t leave me. You can’t leave me. You’re the only one who loves me.” He said frantically, almost begging you.