Marco X Reader drabbles!!

Heartsmith, Heartsmith.

*Based off a beautiful comic called "Hearts for Sale" by miyuli on Tumblr. Read it because it amazing!!! Not really much goes on between Reader and Marco, but it's a story nonetheless. Something I could get out before school starts, you know. So this took place mostly in an old time victorian place in the poorer area of towns at the time, then in present time at the hosptial, just a head's up.

A tall man with side swept blonde hair walked through the crowded cobblestone streets, weaving between people and stalls selling a variety of things. His eyes were clouded with worry as he lets them wander around the crowds.

"Hearts for sale!"  A calming voice calls out. The man- let's call him Erwin for now, yes?- turns towards the voice, seeing a petite (h/c) tressed girl with bright, wide (e/c) hues. "Hello, sir. Would you like to buy a heart?" 

She holds a glowing red heart shaped item out to him. "I have quite a few beauties to offer." Erwin looks down at the girl, her calm smile not wavering or moving.

"Do you also happen to repair broken hearts?" He asked, hope leaking into his eyes. The girls face fell.

"Oh no! I just sell hearts, sir." Her fragile voice rang out clear to Erwin, whose face slowly diminished from a smile to a frown. The girl- let's call her (y/n) for sake of keeping the story going- turned and used a free hand to point to her right.

"But," she started. "If you go down that road, you will find the Heartsmith." (Y/n) gave a smile, seeing Erwin's face light up significantly.

He turned on his heel to head in the direction (y/n) had pointed out, twisting his head to say a final sentence to her. "Thank you, young lady."

(Y/n) gave a large grin. "You're welcome, sir."

Erwin walked down the dirt road, his hands twisting themselves in nervousness. Every store he passed was elegant, wondrous; enough to rouse people's curiosity. Bookstore, Antiques, Tailor, until finally, the small store labeled "HeartSmith". The building was nothing fancy: Big, frosted windows, a golden plaque (that held the name of shop), and a set of wooden french doors. It wasn't eye catching, but it didn't need to be. It was beautiful and enticing in its own way.

Erwin pushed one of the doors open, hesitantly stepping inside and observing the small interior. It was homey, it seemed, with bookshelves lined to the brim with novella after novel, shelves with knick knacks and jars full of who-knows-what. Wooden pallets stacked on top of one another, large circular containers full of what seemed to be maps and blueprints. 

It was comfortable, and one could get used to it. Smack dab in the middle of the place was a large rectangular tables littered with absolutely everything imaginable. There was pens and pencils, colored or plain, rulers, papers, metal scraps, pliers and tools of every kind, scissors, thimbles, small plates of pins and needles. And, of course, a man sitting on a chair in front of it who seemed to be concentrating very hard on a glowing red heart shape that was suspended and grabbed by a claw, holding it in place as he held tweezers to it.

He had deep brown hair that was in an undercut and had bangs in the front that parted in the middle. His face was splattered with freckles like someone had run through mud, splashing it onto their face. His eyes were covered with a pair of goggles. 

Erwin closed the door behind him. "Uh, excuse me?" he called out. The man leaned back from his small project, lifting his goggles up to reveal warm, round brown eyes.

"Huh? Oh! A customer!" His voice was very cheery as he set his goggles on the table, walking with a bounce in his step over to Erwin. "Welcome, sir!  What can I  do for you?"