He was never a man who sought out affections, even after a grand wedding. His communication skills with you were impeccable when he was around but always made sure to keep anything physical minimal. It was deemed too intimate for his liking. He would sleep in the same bed as you but keep to the farthest edge, as if even the brush of your skin against his was a trespass, or very loosely holding your hand whenever walking down the street. He seemed content with the level of connection he had with you, refusing to go further than that as to not overstep any boundaries. The light touches were like his own subtle way to show he does care about you.

After an especially long, depriving mission and near death experience, he couldn't deny the exhaustion that washed over him and the toll on his health. Finally, being home after such struggles had made him feel new emotions that didn't even realise he could feel beforehand making him sought out for you in ways he never thought he would. He never realised the true cherish he had taken you for granted until he practically went through hell.

The feeling of finally coming home is so relieving, yet nerve-wracking at the same time. He can almost feel the comfort of your embrace already, just as a cool breeze gently brushes across his face. He takes a deep breath and slowly steps forward, taking that first step towards the front door.

Makarov was never the type to loudly express his arrival, so he quietly opened the front door and slowly made his way to the living room. His eyes immediately landed on your sitting figure, bundled up all warm and tucked under a bundle of blankets. He quietly stands in the doorframe and simply stares at you for a moment, silently observing the details of your being as if he had not seen you in decades.