Chapter Text
Markus looks over the schedule again with a satisfied smile. He finally made the necessary changes to the gallery program. He should probably find a new secretary soon.
Currently, Markus stands in his art gallery in one of Detroit's art museum. The gallery opens in four days and Markus couldn't help but feel nervous. Even though this isn't his first gallery, he is still new to his art profession.
When Carl adopted him all those years ago, he noticed Markus’ raw talent for art. Carl taught Markus how to make artwork and express his emotions through it. It didn't take long for Markus’ paintings gain attention as he won awards for his artworks. Six months after college he submitted his first gallery and was dubbed as one of Detroit's successful artists at such a young age.
It has been almost two years since and this would be Markus’ third gallery.
“Mr. Manfred, the police officers are here for patrol,” a security official says.
“Thank you for informing me.”
The security officer gives Markus a nod and walks back to their post.
Yesterday, Markus‘ spent the day hanging up his paintings. It's one the reasons why there is an increase in security since other artists are putting up their artworks to prevent theft.
Markus was making sure everything was in place when he saw him. Officer Connor.
Markus stays in his position, not moving an inch.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” Markus thinks “Go over there and talk to him!”
But what would he talk about? He can’t just go up to Connor and strike a conversation.
Think of an excuse.
Now that Markus thought about it, he didn’t have a chance to properly thank Connor.
Yeah, that’s what he will do. Walk up to Connor and thank him for protecting him from the criminal.
Connor, not noticing Markus’ stare, readjusted his black tie in a neat manner.
Markus wishes he has his sketchbook with him. He has such nice hands…
Aughh! What’s wrong with him? Just go up to Connor and thank him!
With a burst of confidence and a dash of impulsiveness, Markus walks up to Connor.
And stands in front of him awkwardly.
Finally, Connor notices Markus moving and standing in front of him, not saying anything.
“Does he want to talk to me?” Connor thinks as he stares back at Markus, waiting for Markus to speak.
They stand there awkwardly for several long moments.
Markus’ confidence from before suddenly disappears with nervousness replacing it.
“What are you doing? Just say anything!” Markus thinks urgently.
“I just-”
“Do you-”
“Sorry. You go first,” Conner says.
“No, no. You should go first,” Markus replies.
“I insist that you say what you need to.”
“I think-”
“Would you two stop yapping over there? It’s too early for this bullshit.”
Connor and Markus turn towards to the voice.
Sitting in a foldable plastic chair, an old man in his fifties with gray hair and mustache looks at them with a scowl on his face.
“Sorry, Lieutenant Hank,” Connor apologizes.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
Connor looks back at Markus and asks “I was going to ask you if had anything to say to me.”
“Oh. I was going to thank you for taking down that criminal.”
Connor scrunches his eyebrows together in slight confusion and then relaxes them.
“The one from over a week ago? The criminal with a gun and knife that shot a civilian,” Connor says, remembering that day.
“Yeah, that one. Thank you.”
“Your welcome. It’s my duty to protect the public.”
Upon a closer look, Markus notices a fresh bruise on Connor’s jaw.
“How did you get that bruise?” Markus asks, concerned.
“This bruise?” Connor says, pointing at the purpling bruise “It was from a fight with another criminal.”
“Doesn’t it hurt? Now that I think about it, didn’t you also got shot from that shooter too?”
“It was only a graze. It’ll heal,” Connor checks his watch “Lieutenant, it’s time to go. Our shift is over. I’ll be in the car.”
Connor walks out of the room, leaving Markus alone with Hank.
“That’s what he always says, ‘I’m fine’. Kids these days are so reckless,” Hank gruffs out, leaving the room to follow his partner.
Markus lets out a relieved groan and starts to rub his sweaty hands on his jeans and trying to calm his beating heart.
What was that?! Why did he have to be so awkward around Connor?
Why does he have to have a slight crush on Connor?
After checking the time, Markus decides to go home.
-This is a time skip-
“I’m home!” Markus says.
Kara’s head pops out from the kitchen entrance, greeting him with a small smile.
“Hello Markus,” Kara greets.
“Hey Kara,” Markus says, smelling the air “Are you cooking dinner?”
“Yes, it’s roasted chicken.”
“Do you want help?”
“Knowing you, you would probably just help anyways.”
“Heh. You’re right.”
Markus washes his hands in the sink and puts on an apron.
“What are you making right now?” Markus asks.
“I’m going to do the side dishes since the chicken is in the oven,” Kara replies “I’m planning to make the green beans and mash potatoes.”
“I’ll start on the mash potatoes.”
Markus grabs a metal pot and fills it with water. After placing it on the stove on high heat, he starts washing the potatoes.
“Peeled or skin on?” Markus asks.
“Doesn’t matter, though I would rather have it skin on.”
“Skin on it is. I like that way too.”
They work in comfortable silence as the water boils. Markus cubes the potatoes so that they will cook faster. Kara cuts the green beans into smaller lengths and minces the herbs to go with it.
They’ve been cooking together for the past week as a way to get to know each other. The first time was awkward since Kara didn’t know where everything was in the kitchen. After a couple more session, Kara quickly learned where each kitchen equipment is placed and falling in love with Markus' variety of cooking appliances. Now they can have casual conversations without to much awkward silence.
Once the water starts to boil, Markus places the potato cubes into the pot.
“Kara, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do you want to go to my gallery?” Markus questions.
“Your art gallery? During the public viewing, right?”
“No, during the party.”
“Huh. You mean the party when the gallery first opens? With all the other artist and VIP guests?”
Rich people who wear fancy clothing and jewelry that cost more than Kara’s paycheck of a whole year.
“You don’t have to,” Markus says reassuringly.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go. But it’s just that I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”
“We can go shopping.”
“You don’t have to! It’s okay. I can just wait until the public viewing day.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Markus drops the topic with a barely noticeable frown. Kara notices it.
“Fine,” Kara says, giving in.
“Really?”
Markus smiles with that dorky look on his face. How could Kara say no?
“But, I don’t think I can get anything fancy.”
“I can pay for it.”
When Kara tries to object, Markus gives her that look again.
“Alright. When do you want to go?” Kara asks.
“How about this Saturday?”
“That’s fine.”
For some reason, Kara feels like she is going to regret this decision.