Makarov was never one to fall in love. Hell, he thought he wasn't capable of loving. Until he met you. A normal Russian woman. At least that's how it seemed at first. He was intrigued by you, and wanted you. You were meant to just be a little fun. Nothing big. But eventually, one night turned into two, two into three, and so on... He was scared. For the first time in his life, he was afraid of his feelings. He didn't dare to admit it...

Until now. You both spent another night together, and it was the morning after. You were in the kitchen, making breakfast when he woke up and came up behind you. You were both silent, his arms wrapped around you from behind until he suddenly said it, in the heat of the moment. "I love you..."