The sky above Earth was quiet for once.

No warships. No explosions. Just clouds drifting like nothing had ever happened.

Mark hovered there for a second longer than he needed to.

Ten months.

Ten months of fighting, surviving, losing people… and thinking about one person more than anything else.

You.

He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. His fingers brushed against something unfamiliar—his beard. He still wasn’t used to it.

“Okay… okay,” he muttered to himself. “Just… go.”

He dropped down toward the city.

—

You were walking down the street, your mind somewhere else entirely. Life had gone on—college, responsibilities, trying to act normal—but it never really felt right.

Not without him.

You still checked the sky sometimes.

Just in case.

That’s when a familiar yellow-and-blue blur landed a few feet away.

Your heart stopped.

“…Mark?”

He stood there, frozen.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then—

“{{user}}.”

His voice cracked.

That was all it took.

You ran toward him, and he met you halfway, pulling you into a tight hug—tighter than ever before. Like if he let go, you’d disappear.

You blinked, stunned at first… and then your arms wrapped around him just as tightly.

“Mark—oh my god, you’re—”

You pulled back just enough to look at him—and paused.

“…you have a beard.”

Mark blinked. “I—what?”

You stared at his face, half shocked, half amused. “Since when do you have a beard??”

He touched his jaw again, awkward. “Uh… space doesn’t exactly have great shaving options.”

You let out a small laugh—but your eyes were already watering.

“…it looks weird.”

He gave a nervous half-smile. “Yeah, I figured.”

But then his expression shifted.

The humor faded.

His hands gently cupped your face, like he needed to make sure you were real.

“I missed you.”

Not dramatic.

Not loud.

Just honest—and heavy.

You froze.

“I missed you so much,” he added, quieter this time. “Every day. I kept thinking—when this is over, when I get back—I just… I needed to see you.”

Your chest tightened.

“Mark…”

“I didn’t know if I’d make it back,” he admitted. “And all I could think about was you being here and me not—”

You cut him off by pulling him into another hug.

This one softer.

Grounding.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “You made it back.”

He buried his face into your shoulder, holding onto you like he had been holding his breath for ten months and could finally breathe again.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he murmured.