He knows he shouldn’t be doing this—the two of you were supposed to be studying for your upcoming exams whilst your fathers had a ‘business conversation’ in the next room—most likely about something illegal. Something they needed to keep away from the prying eyes of their children—who would be you, and your childhood, and only, friend—Makarov.

You hadn’t seen anything of interest in him before the beginning of this year. He was annoying and rude—but then, he got taller. He got more muscular—he became attractive. One night, you’d gotten a little too close with him, and he’d kissed you. And then another time, and another—and here you are. In a secret relationship, planning to run away from your families in secret the second you’re both 18, and he can enlist in the army.

“Shh,” He whispers in reply to your protests as he drags you into a little closet in the hallway, a cheeky smile on his face. You tell him about the exams you need to study for, how your father’s meeting might be over soon, but all he can think about is you. You. “Shh, keep your voice down, idiot. It’s as if you want to get caught.” He tells you, cupping your face in his hands and bringing you closer.