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While others show their love through Words of Affirmation, Receiving Gifts, Shared Experiences, Emotional Security, Quality Time, Acts of Service and Physical Touch -even though the last three could also be applied to him- he keeps Notebooks of them.
You could compare them to a scrapbook.
Information of the loved person fill the first few pages, afterwards they're being dedicated to certain dates and occasions.
Like pressed Daisys and a doodle of the Quidditchpitch for November 9th.
A piece of wrapping paper Madison used and a Polaroid of them together for Christmas Eve- and even more doodles for New Year's.
Yes, Marcus loves his girlfriend very much.
Very, very much.
If he had to make a list she'd be on the second place.
Right after his Mum- because there's no way he'd ever love anyone more than his mother.
๐นญ
Marcus tentatively knocked on the door of room 406- a gesture that was actually quite unnecessary.
His mother didn't get any visitors, and the nurses came at set times.
Still, it was a sign of respect.
And Marcus wasnโt a hundred percent sure whether sheโd forgotten about his visit, which heโd announced in a letter.
โHey, Mum.โ
She looked good- at least better than she had at Christmas.
Marcus reckoned it was down to the change of season; his mother was particularly fond of spring.
The way she sat on the bed crocheting, the way she smiled, gave Marcus hope that this would be a rather pleasant day. Without any relapses or other surprises.
"Marcus. Oh my sweet boy look at you. You've grown so much since I last saw you. I swear yesterday you were just a little toddler."
Yeah. Yesterday.
Josephine Flint has an odd way of remembering things.
But that has never been and will never be her fault.
Because she was still able to be a good mother.
Even if she's unsure why she was in the hospital in the first place, she was sure about her son.
And while she was unable to help him verbally and give him advice, she could still stroke his hair and have his head in her lap like he was five years old and just lost his first Quidditch match.
Her hands will always remember her little baby boy.
And so they stayed like this for hours, the forget-me-nots bouquet resting in a vase on her nightstand, while she talked and he listened.
About everything and nothing at once.
But it might not matter that lilac was prettier than magenta, but Marcus will cherish that opinion for ever.
And then her fingers stopped caressing his scalp.
"Excuse me, who are you?"
In a matter of seconds Marcus sat upright, staring at his mother, catching the exact seconds her eyes grew huge and confused.
What a fool he was to even think this day was going to be good.
"I'm your son ma'am. Marcus."
Confusion turned into disgust, and disgust turned into anger- as Josephine eyed Marcus up and down.
"No you're not. And you know why? Because I don't have kids. I don't even have a husband. Bloody hell! I don't even WANT children. They're just loud and infuriating and drive their parents insane. I know what you are. You're some kind of perv disguising yourself as my son because you're touchstarved. You probably don't have a mother, do you?"
Marcus was too stunned to speak, feeling as if he just got hit by thousands of bludgers- right into his heart.
"No, I'm not, I really am your son. Please I-"
But Marcus was interrupted by his mother chucking the vase onto the floor, letting water, shards and petals make a mess on the floor.
๐นญ
"Do you have any relatives we can owl? Your Dad maybe?"
It was Cayden O'brien who sat next to him in the corridor, handing him a calming tea.
But Marcus could only shake his head: "You could try and Contact my Grandpa. His name is Sergej Flint- he lives in Bulgaria."
"Alright, I'll inform Tamara. Can you tell me what happened in that room please- in your words?"
But Marcus didn't even have the opportunity to start explaining, because not even two seconds later his Grandfather came marching down the corridor, grabbing Cayden by the shoulders and punching him right into the face.
"I have had enough with this shabby hospital. EVERY WEEK, I get reports about my daughter not healing properly, remembering less every day. AND NOW SHE'S NOT EVEN RECOGNIZING HER OWN SON? Be honest boy- who's supervising everything here? Who's teaching you all of that nonsense?"
He took a solid minute looking at Cayden, before his gaze wandered over to his grandson.
"Marcus we're leaving. Completely. I'm taking Josie out of here, the Healers in Bulgaria are much more competent than those interns. You're finishing your O.W.Ls and then you're attending Durmstrang."
He shot him his typical 'don't argue with me here' stare, before he puffed out his chest and entered room 406 where Josephine was currently talking with other healers.
"My condolences Bro, seriously. How you gotta tell that Madison?"
It was Cayden who started the conversation again, handing him tissues for the tears Marcus didn't register he was crying- even if Caydens own nose was bloody.
"You know about me and Madison?"
It was then, when they heard heels coming towards them, a witch no older than 21 beginning to speak softly.
"Everyone knows Honey, well especially the people who work with Maddy during the summer. About her feelings for you, your interactions, that one herbology project.. and he immediately owled us after that Quidditch match. I'm Tamara by the way, I work at the reception."
If there was one thing Marcus noticed about the girl in front of him, it was the way she looked at Cayden, how she immediately took care of his nose and how both of them wore engagement rings.
And suddenly he knew, that there was no way Cayden and Madison had a secret thing going on with each other.
He had been avoiding and ignoring his gorgeous and sweet girlfriend for absolutely no reason.
"I- I think I'll just talk to her normally. I've still got a little less than half a year until the schoolyear ends. And- well if she's not open for it it's okay, but maybe we'll start a long distance relationship.. I- I don't know."
But even if he knew, there was no way Marcus could continue explaining, because Sergej just left room 406 and gestured him to follow.
"If you'd excuse me. It was nice talking to you."
๐นญ
At the same time, Madison stood in the stands of the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game, wondering why her boyfriend wasn't playing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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