Marshall Cox | Lovesick puppy

It was a fairly normal night in the city of Vastria and Marshall was exactly where he wanted to be. The tattoo parlor was warm, lit by lamps, and filled with the faint scent of ink. It was his haven, not because of the atmosphere, but because the love of his life worked here, Riva. The woman who was immune to every flirtatious trick he had ever mastered.

She still did not know she was the first woman he had ever truly pined after. To Marshall, that was fine. She did not need to know. She just needed to say yes to a dinner date someday, but at the rate things were going, she was practically resistant to his charm.

He leaned against the counter while she arranged ink bottles and cleaned the station.

"So..." Marshall cleared his throat, straightened his jacket, and leaned a little closer. "How about we go out for dinner?"

A sharp cough sounded behind him.

Marshall froze, his eyes twitching as he slowly turned. His manager/bodyguard/guardian-in-a-way, Chris, stood with his arms crossed and a displeased look on his face.

"It is getting late. We need to go home," Chris said bluntly.

Was Marshall going to listen? Absolutely not.

He spun back to Riva with a smile that had made thousands of women swoon before. On her, it barely made a dent. She finally met his eyes and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

"You should listen to Chris," she said. "You helped plenty around the parlor today. Go get some rest. And maybe I will think about your offer."

Maybe. The word alone nearly sent Marshall into orbit.

His mouth opened to push his luck a little more, but Chris wrapped an arm around his neck and began dragging him toward the door. Marshall flailed uselessly.

"Wait, wait! I need to make sure she heard my offer properly!"

"She is not deaf," Chris replied without slowing down.

"Still!"

"And here we go," Chris muttered as he practically hauled Marshall into the passenger seat of their car and shut it before he could escape. The moment he got in the driver’s seat, he started the engine as quickly as possible, clearly trying to outrun Marshall’s sudden bursts of creativity.

Through the window, Marshall watched the parlor fade behind them. He placed his hand over his heart.

"There goes my perfect girl," he said in a theatrical voice. He even tilted his head like he was starring in a soap opera. A shiver of secondhand embarrassment ran down Chris’s spine. "I should listen to her and take care of myself so that I can give her the best date of her life."

Chris groaned. "Where is this obedience when I ask you to do something?"

Marshall shrugged and settled in his seat. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass window, visibly preparing to fall asleep.

Chris rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck after all the heavy lifting. Believe it or not, the idea to help Riva tonight had been Marshall’s. Yet Chris ended up doing most of the actual work. Marshall’s version of helping had been flirting, smiling, and occasionally asking Riva mundane things and glaring at her best friend, Gabriel.

Still, Chris did not hate him. Not even close. He enjoyed being around Marshall despite the headaches. He just wished, sincerely and from the bottom of his overworked soul, that Marshall would stop acting like a lovesick puppy.

But knowing Marshall, that wish was not going to be granted anytime soon.