Marco x Mikasa (MikaMaro)

Chapter Twelve

~Marco's POV~

It's been about a week since Mikasa and I have been constantly hanging out and of course for obvious reasons: to keep her away from Jean. She has been thinking of reporting him and I am very cooperative with her instead of just saying what I want to like before. . .JUST SEND THAT FUCKER TO JAIL!

It's difficult though, he's been my best friend all of these years and so has she. Never in my life would I have thought of this to ever happen with people I know. Especially the closest people I know. 

My mother has been asking why I hang out with Mikasa so much, she jokes thinking that I like her [even though I do] but in the end if that was my only goal I'm sure I wouldn't even be by her side if all I wanted to do was date her.

I have love for her, I don't want to be another boyfriend she'll talk about when she's in her 20's sitting with her friends sipping on expensive wine with an outlook of the city in some 4,000$ apartment, sighing and reminiscing her high school day saying "Oh yeah him? Eh I almost forgot about him, he was okay I've had better."

Even if she gets married to someone else I want to be there and see her with the love of her life and be happy for her and see her children grow, the children that could've been ours. Oh God pull yourself together Marco! Marriage? Children?! Ugh why am I even thinking of this!

I snapped myself out of it and went to Mikasa's room to check in on her.

"Hey, everything okay?" I asked, still standing by her door as to respect her privacy.

"Huh? Uh yeah, one moment." She said that, but she was talking to someone else?

"Hey Marco you can come in." She hesitantly spoke, but not with worry.

"Hi, soooo everything is alright?"

"Oh yeah!" Mikasa smiled. "Sorry it's that I'm on Skype with my dad now, and it's night time in Japan. . .the thing is he wouldn't approve of any guys in my flat haha"

She saw me flinch and anxious to leave and immediately stopped me by saying "Oh oh-oh no don't worry! I took off the video and sound so he doesn't know!"

I mentally sighed in relief. "Oh! Well anyways I'm going to go back on finishing the movie I'm watching, I'm sure you both still need to talk anyways." I smiled, and she nodded. I was leaving and I looked back, she was softly smiling as small child. She looked happy for once, especially considering her father and her haven't talked much in the last 3 years. He works a lot and even more now that her mother is dead. He is a big business man in Japan but Yen is nothing here and he can't speak English. So there is only so much he can do.

I played the movie I was watching: Captain America: The Winter Soldier. God I love Marvel so much.

The rest of the evening we just started cutting out craft paper and making origami butterflies to put on her wall. Her and I both enjoy art and I believe it is a form of therapy. We sat in silence, careful not to round the edges of the wings too much nor to make it too sharp. We bent the paper carefully and stapled the middle as neatly and gently as possibly. This was one of the few and rare origami that require more than folding. We finished up and put them all in a box. The colours were all bright greens and calm sparkly blues and yellows along with rainbow-coloured sheets that we also used. She stood up on a chair and I passed her them one by one as she glued gunned them onto the wall above her doorway.

Her room was empty, with only the frame of her mother sitting at her night stand. She never cared too much to decorate or anything. One time she wanted to paint her room a rogue red and brown and paint tiny little stars in the corners, but that was back when she started dating Jean for the first time. Ever since then she has never wanted to do anything creative asides from making her own prom dress. I will always cherish these moments. 

My mother plans on moving to Belgium this following summer. No one knows and I don't want to go.

"Marco? Are you okay?" She smiled down at me like an angel, with a tired but calm and happy smile. The kindest face my eyes have ever seen. 

"Yes." I grinned while handing her another origami butterfly.

She took it,  sitting criss crossed on her bed, her short hair hanging as her head looked down into her palms where she delicately held the butterfly. She was cradling softly, and then paused.

"You know Marco?"

"Hmm?" I looked up, pondering what she was going to tell me.

"I feel like I am Malala of Pakistan. 'Malala will be as a free as a butterfly.' And then you are the only boy or man like her father, who wants her to fly."

I chuckled and said "Maybe because you are Malala, but in another current life, and Mikasa I always want you to know that you're not alone. Okay?"

She smiled to that thought and continued gluing. When we were done we had hot chocolate by the balcony and watched the sun set.