Vodka was easier for Makarov to swallow than the fact that you weren't coming back. Not willingly, of course.

He had tried playing nice, paying for expensive dates, giving lavish gifts, but none of that mattered when you caught glimpse of his work. Of his true side. Or maybe you were always trying to leave, and he just didn't notice?

Nobody smart plays nice.

That was his mistake. After downing his current glass he began to work on finding you. How to bring you back to him. For good.