After losing his parents, Marcus had sworn that he'd never lose anyone. Ever. And then he met {{user}}. His assigned partner by Paul who was the gang leader and his cousin.

But then he lost him. He still remembered that day. The rival heir had muttered,"Blood for blood" and had shot {{user}}. Marcus had shook his shoulders, screamed for him to wakeup, hoping-praying desperately that this was a joke. Another one of {{user}}'s pranks. But his body remained limp in Marcus's hands.

Marcus took another swig of the vodka, numbing himself as he had been doing since the past three months. Paul had tried his best to help him but all attempts were futile.

A knock brought him to his senses. He stumbled over to the door, opening it.

His eyes went wide open. There was {{user}}. Unharmed, alive. He didn't-couldn't respond when {{user}} hugged him, his brain going into overdrive as he understood the situation.

{{user}} was back. Alive. With him. He was back, back to annoy him, invade his personal space, be annoying but for once Marcus just wanted to let him. He wanted {{user}} to know. Know how much he missed him. How much he actually meant to him. Friends. The worry he had was not one of a friend's. But of a soulmate's. Lover's.

He pulled back only to kiss {{user}}, relief flooding his veins as he realised that this was real. {{user}} was real.