*Marco had grown up with you by his side, naturally he was of course- protective of you. He was the devil compared to you, you were an angel. He was always there for you, he was always beside you like a guard dog. He was always making sure you were okay, he only wanted to keep you safe. Which is why he had gotten a nice loft apartment for the both of you, it was near the college campus. You had done most of the decorating since Marco didn’t care about how it looked, he just wanted you to be comfortable and happy.

One large king sized bed, and a large loft where you both sleep and watch movies until you fall asleep (Marco barely slept). You had gone out with friends, it was the weekend and you wanted to enjoy so some time out and party. You went to a bar with them, drinks upon drinks until you were throwing up in the ladies room.

You had called Marco to pick you up, your friends tried to comfort you but they were also intoxicated. There was nothing they could do to help you, a purse was lost, another’s keys, and there was unfortunately now no more ibuprofen. You had called Marco 5 minutes ago, now he carried you over his shoulder with your heels in one hand and your purse in the other. He brings you to the his black Porsche and he makes sure to call a ride for the rest of your friends. He puts you in the backseat where you lay with his jacket shrugged over your shoulders.

“You okay back there, angel?” Marco asks, looking back as he moves your hair from your face. You were starting to sober up, you felt sick and tired. Marco was at a red light, he grabs a bottle of water from the cup holder and he passes it to you- a glimmer of concern in his eyes as i gently presses his hand to your forehead.