Serah didn’t even flinch at his last words. Her expression stayed composed, unshaken, as she slipped the orb Marcus had handed her into the pocket of her coat with practiced calm.
"Fair enough. I guess I can live with that," she said smoothly. "At least now I know that underneath all the fake flirty lines and charming nonsense, there’s still a remorseless killer lurking." Her lips curled into a rare, teasing smirk.
Marcus tilted his head with mock offense. "Fake? Oh no, princess—don’t insult me like that. Everything I’ve said about you? That’s one hundred percent truth, straight from the heart." He flashed a grin. "Were you not paying attention when I said I liked you? I can lie about most things, sure. I’m a dark mage—it comes with the job. But when it comes to what captivates me? What I find genuinely interesting? Nah. That’s the one thing I don’t fake. And you, my dear princess... you check both boxes."
Her smirk evaporated instantly. Her eyes widened a little, and the faintest blush painted her cheeks.
Marcus didn’t miss a beat. His grin softened into something warmer, something that danced dangerously close to being sincere.
’This bastard,’ Serah thought, teeth clenched behind closed lips. ’He says these things like they’re as casual as weather talk. And dammit... Galen was right. I do have a weakness for long-haired idiots. If this is how it’s going to be, then I’m done pretending.’
She took a long, quiet breath, let it out slowly to center herself, then lifted her gaze and locked eyes with him—her deep crimson meeting the bottomless black of his.
"Hey," she said, her voice calm but edged with something raw. "Listen to me."
Marcus didn’t interrupt. The playful sparkle in his eyes dulled slightly into focus. He leaned in, giving her his full attention, like he sensed something real was coming.
"You’ve somehow managed to worm your way past every one of my defenses, and I hate it," Serah began, her tone low, deliberate. "I hate that you check every ridiculous little box I keep pretending I don’t care about. I hate that you make me second-guess myself. And I really, really hate that you look like every terrible decision I’ve ever made—and still manage to smile while doing it."
Marcus arched an eyebrow but stayed silent, waiting.
"And so," she continued, but her voice wavered. For a moment, it felt like the weight of her own words was pressing on her chest. "Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately..."
She trailed off, chewing the inside of her cheek.
Marcus leaned forward slightly, chin resting in his palm, a devilish grin forming. "Huh? Come on, say it, princess. Don’t leave me hangin’. What is it?"
"I might actually be developing feelings for you!" Serah snapped, her voice cracking under the weight of her own frustration—more aimed at herself than at him. Her words came out too fast, too loud, and too vulnerable.
And just like that, the air shifted.
Marcus blinked. Then slowly—very slowly—a grin spread across his face like a fire catching dry wood.
"Oh?" he said, tilting his head with theatrical mischief. "Say that again. Slower this time."
Serah groaned, dragging both hands over her face like she wanted to erase the last sixty seconds of her life. "Don’t make me regret saying that," she muttered, already drowning in secondhand embarrassment.
"No regrets here," Marcus replied, sounding smug enough to fuel an entire city. "I’ve survived blade traps, raging beasts, mercenaries, and even a full-on betrayal in a tavern once. But this? This right here? Easily the best thing that’s happened to me in weeks."
"Can you just shut up," Serah said through gritted teeth.
"Sorry, princess," Marcus said, grinning wide now, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "But your confession? It’s even more delightful than you realize."
Serah groaned once more, slumping further into her chair as though the floor might take pity on her and swallow her whole. "You’re the worst," she mumbled, her voice muffled behind her hands.
Marcus leaned back, arms folding lazily behind his head like he’d just won a wager against the gods themselves. "Nah. I’m the guy you like. Big difference."
Peeking at him through the small gap between her fingers, Serah’s eyes narrowed. "Say that again, and I swear I’ll throw my water in your face."
He gave a lazy, almost taunting shrug. "Go ahead. I’ve already got the emotional victory. A little water won’t wash that away."
"Ugh." She dropped her hands, cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she averted her gaze, doing her best to act like she hadn’t just laid bare a piece of her heart to a man shameless enough to wield charm like a finely-honed weapon.
The air between them settled into silence for a heartbeat. Then another.
Marcus’s voice dropped a notch, low and deliberate. "Princess... I need to know something."
She looked up, meeting his gaze. The grin was still there, but it had shifted—less smug now, softer, almost sincere.
"...do you really believe this feeling you’ve got is real?" he asked quietly. "I mean, we’re still basically strangers. This is only our second time meeting."
Serah stared at him for a moment longer before her gaze slid away, lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah. I think it’s real. I’ve been feeling this way for four whole months, and even without seeing your smug face, the feelings didn’t fade. That means real is the only thing they can be."
"I see," he said with a short, amused laugh. "Guess I’ve got a new girlfriend then."
"I’m not your girlfriend," she shot back instantly.
"Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means we haven’t agreed to be in a relationship. So don’t go parading around calling me your girlfriend."
"What?" Marcus stretched the word out, feigning disbelief. "I thought we sealed the deal the moment I said I like you and you said you like me too."
Serah hesitated for a second. "...Well, you’re right, but still—we’re not in a relationship."
"Besides, I need time to sort my feelings out completely." She added, her tone softening. "And you do realize we’re basically from two different worlds. If you try to turn this confession into reality, things might just—"
"I get it." Marcus cut her off smoothly, his voice steady.
Serah studied him for a moment before smiling faintly. "Thank you."
A quiet moment followed, Marcus’s gaze shifting to take in the restaurant’s patrons and the people strolling past outside. The scene was peaceful—almost idyllic. In truth, he wanted nothing more than a life .
But peace had never been part of his story. Since he was barely six years old, all he could remember was running for his life alongside his father—hunted by both humans and Blood Demons alike.
He’d been stabbed more times than he could count, stared death in the face again and again, killed both humans who tried to kill him and blood demons without hesitation. His kind had always been surrounded by enemies with no allies, and sometimes even his own people had turned on him.
Peace was a stranger to him. Even in moments when he tried to relax while earning a bit of coin, old traumas would creep back in from the shadows.
Yet somehow, against all odds, Serah had become a rare source of calm for him. From the very first day he’d laid eyes on her portrait during one of his missions, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. And the night they finally met in Caelmoor had only deepened that strange sense of solace.
Maybe it was what people called "love at first sight," or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, it amused him. And Marcus was not the kind of man to let go of something that amused him.
After the long stretch of silence, he exhaled a dramatic sigh and stretched in his seat. "Well, princess, looks like we’re done here. And I’ve got an annoyingly long journey ahead of me. Guess this is goodbye for now."
Rising from his seat, he slung his leather shoulder bag over one arm.
Serah’s gaze flicked to him. "Uh... yeah, I guess you’re right."
"Yeah. And thanks for the food—I mean it." He smiled. "See you when I see you."
She watched him turn to leave, taking a few steps away before something struck her.
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a raised brow. "Yeah?"
"Sorry, but... I think I might actually need your help."
Marcus cocked his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he wondered what exactly Serah could possibly want from him. But as he stepped back toward the table, a spark of realization lit in his mind.
She’d told him why she was in Heyh—and now, asking for his help could only mean one thing.
Sliding back into his seat with that same infuriatingly relaxed air, he met her gaze and said,
"This is about Drosmir, isn’t it?"