Aaand a little later than i told you all i would update, but here i am! Blame my ideas, okay?! They keep popping up and i need to keep fixing or adding and now i'm over 6k when it's supposed to be far shorter!

Anyways, i hope you'd enjoy!

"You look a little tired,"

'A little' may be an understatement. It's barely 2 hours to closing time and Marco could already feel his eyes flickering close every time he as much as stopped moving, and he felt so sluggish, he wasn't surprised when Sanji, Usopp and even Pudding, who just started today, commented that he's dragging his feet the entire day. He had forgone sleep, after all, in favour of planning out the cake now displayed behind the 'NEW ITEM' card on the display.

The Crepe Cake from yesterday, true to Sanji's words, has been made into a permanent item in their store, and he already apologized to at least a dozen of disappointed costumers because they're sold out within 2 hours. His ever-chivalrous employer berated him for not making more for the day, claiming that he hated disappointing ladies after ladies and could only hope that the free cupcakes he offered them as a consolation would be enough for them. After he was done, Marco was left both wondering if he was only imagining the subtle praise in that long spiel, and slightly concerned by Sanji's business practices.

But just like the Crepe Cake, his new creation for the day seems to receive the same amount of positive feedback, judging by the fact that again, there's only one slice left. Someone had tried to buy the slice earlier, two of them, if he counted the rather miffed girl that poor Usopp had to handle, and Marco settled by sneaking the slice away to keep it cool in the kitchen's fridge while Sanji's back was turned and only took it out and back to the display again once he was sure Ace could come on at any minute.

If he's allowed to give just about everyone free stuff, then Marco reserving something for a favored costumer shouldn't be a big deal.

Marco stifled the yawn he knew was coming, and instead faked it out as a sigh as he smiled weakly at Ace's concerned tone. It's quite rare that Ace would be the one to initiate a conversation, and it was even rarer still that their first word to each other wasn't just a simply 'Good evening', "Ah, sorry about that. It's been quite a long day. I guess words have spread that we have a new item and the store's a bit more packed than usual,"

Not that he knows how words spread that fast. Nami and Usopp once tried to explain to him that it was mostly the power of social media, but the concept of people following or you announcing through your daily life was not easy for Marco to quite accept or understand. All that he knows is that Mr. Prince Patisserie does have some social pages that was run by Sanji and Usopp, which explains why sometimes the barista would be hanging around the displays and taking pictures.

Ace still had that concerned frown on his face - and Marco hoped that his fatigue hides the little bubbling happiness over the attention - and seemed like he was about to say something else when Koala called him out from the cashier's area to tell him that she'd be looking for a seat first if he still wanted to chat for longer. The strawberry blonde girl then gave Marco a meaningful wink - although he's quite unsure as to what the wink was supposed to mean - before walking away, ignoring Ace's spluttering her name.

"Ugh, Sabo's right, she's the worst sometimes," the raven haired male muttered under his breath, turning his focus on to the display case again, as he had been doing before Marco came by. There's a light flush on his cheeks, that seems to reddened when he peeked up at Marco from behind the tressed that fell in front of his eyes, "Umm, you have a new cake again today?"

Marco nodded, turning his gaze to the cake, "Yes. It's a Chamomile tea infused cake with honey and vanilla frosting. The tea gave it a rather aromatic smell,"

They already had a tea-infused cake in the shop, which was Sanji's Earl Grey Infusion with Lavender Buttercream, which, just like most of the treats they sold, was often rich with cream and had strong flavours. His Crepe Cake yesterday had been more or less the same - after all, Sanji had been the one who taught him - and Marco was beginning to think maybe that was Ace's entire issue with their cakes.

With that in mind, he had tried to create something a little more gentle and light, but could still hold some significant taste. It was mostly inspired by one of his brothers, as chamomile with honey was actually Izou's favorite down time drinks, and whenever he would visit, the entire apartment would ended up smelling like it. The natural sweetness of honey boosted chamomile's more subtle flavor, and with a layer of vanilla meringue, it would give the cake a creamy and fluffy texture.

He had tried his best to do a better and less boring decoration today too, and with Sanji's guidance, managed to decorate the initial full cake with flower fondants decoration that resembled the flower the tea came from. Of course, instead of just a single large flower in between two smaller ones, the slice Marco had saved up was a little bit more extravagant. He had added in decorative sprigs with a pile of crumbles to make it look like the flower really bloomed out of the cake, and should he really succeed in having Ace pick it, there's already a plate back on the kitchen that was preemptively decorated with a smear of honey and a couple more fondants.

Marco is highly aware that Sanji already found the plate, judging by the glares he could feel on the back of his nape, and he knew he would've disassembled Marco's hard work if Pudding hadn't taken it away from him.

Ace cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed and lips turning into a little moue, looking like he was quite confused, "So like, the cake tasted like tea?"

"In a way, yes,"

The freckled male bit his lower lips, staring contemplatively at the cake for a while before he muttered lowly, "Tea, i guess i can work with tea?"

"Excuse me?"

"N-never mind," his stance turned demure, as he pointed to the cake, "I'll… i'll take one,"

If Marco could celebrate - or have the energy to, he would do that now.

"Hey you! You didn't even eat your cake!"

The angry shouting immediately attracted the attention of everyone inside of the store, and even sending Sanji out from the store room in a hurry. Marco's attention was quickly shifted away from the costumer he had been serving to the source of the voice, already knowing what might have caused it before he even saw the scene as a whole.

True enough, Pudding, though short and supposedly unthreatening, was glaring in such a chilling manner at Ace and Koala's direction, who was making their way out of the door. She looked furious, her two pigtails bobbing along as she stomped over to the door and pulled a startled Ace by his collar, "Sanji hates people who waste food! Why would you waste his food in his property, huh?!"

"I-i…,"

"Pudding, let go of him,"

If Ace already looked embarrassed while being screamed at by copper haired waitress in front of so many people, the mortified look on his face when he saw Marco quickly approaching them was beyond description. He looked like he wanted to bolt out as soon as he can, but even as Pudding let go of him, he still stood on his ground, even if he hung his head low, as if he didn't want to look at Marco in the eye.

Marco was distracted away from him when his new co-worker whirled around at him, face pulled into a rather scary expression. He had thought of her to be rather sweet when she was first introduced this morning, but as the day went by, he began to wonder if she had a double personality. The face that made such a shining smile this morning could not be the one who was now shooting daggers at him, "What do you mean, let him go?! You know Sanji hates people wasting food, Marco! How dare he not lick the plate clean—"

"Enough, Pudding," he grounded with the most assertive tone he can muster, immediately quieting her down. Once he was sure she won't protest any further, he turned to Ace again, and gave him and Koala a smile, "Thank you for your constant patronage. I hope to see you come back again soon,"

Koala, who looked equally as angry as Pudding was the first to react, her frown melting away to a tight smile, "Yeah. We'll see you soon, Marco. Thanks as always," she placed a hand on Ace's arm, tugging it slightly, "Come on, Ace, we promised to meet up with Sabo and Luffy in an hour,"

Ace hardly reacted, but he lifted his head high enough to allow Marco to see the guilt-ridden expression on his face. His knuckles are turning white with how hard he was clenching his hand, as he whispered out, "I'm sorry, Marco,"

Marco could only give him a smile, one that he hoped was good enough to tell Ace that there is nothing to forgive, "I'll see you soon, Ace,"

With one last tug, he finally followed Koala out of the door. But until he disappeared in the middle of the crowded street outside, Marco's eyes never left him, just as Ace never looked away from him.

A stomp in front of him broke the blonde man out of his reverie, and he turned to, sure enough, be faced with Pudding's aggravated face, "Why are you letting them go that easily?! He's wasting food! You know Sanji hates it!"

He sighed, a sudden sense of weariness settling on his bones, but nevertheless still gave the girl a smile as he walked over to the recently vacated table to help her clean it. By now everyone has looked away from the spectacle, probably in fear that Pudding will shift her wrath at them. Really, Marco still couldn't believe the amount of anger contained in that small body, "Well, regardless, we always have leftovers by the end of the day. Sanji would usually give them away or," he lifted Ace's untouched plate, noting that the one of the fondant flower was tipped off. He gestured it to Usopp who was cowering on the corner while pretending he wasn't listening in, "I'll give it to Usopp. I'm sure he won't waste it,"

One of the fondant on the plate rolled over, turning up side down.

Marco sighed, chuckling weakly, "I didn't think it was going to work today, either,"

"What is wrong with him?! Why would he left that guy get away and even welcome him to come again! Ugh, if i see him again, i'm going to stab the hell out of—"

"Ah, Pudding, mellorine, your defense against my creations and principal are indeed astounding and inspiring," there's a pause, and the next time Sanji spoke, his tone was a lot less awestruck and a bit more somber, "But i'm afraid for this one case, there is no helping it. I'm just glad that by the end of the day, no food would be wasted,"

"B-but, Sanji! He's refusing to eat your cake!"

"Well, technically speaking," Usopp's words were rather hard to hear, since he sounded like he was trying to talk and eat at the same time, "This is Marco's cake,"

"But that's even worse! He's literally defending the person who wasted his effort!"

Marco would like to come into the kitchen then and told Pudding that he wasted nothing, much less effort. Ace's behaviour left him with a sense of curiousity, and even if each failure always makes him feel frustrated, there is also that determination inside of Marco that made him want to keep trying until he found what exactly is it that Ace was looking for in a dessert. As if there is a big prize waiting for him should he be able to solve this particular puzzle.

It felt like it drove him mad, but at the same time it made him feel alive. Excited.

He hadn't felt anything like this since…

"So this has been happening for a long time?! But why? Why would that guy do that?"

"Shh! He's right outside right now, keep your voices down!"

"Who knows, maybe Ace is as incomprehensible as his brother and it's a family trait of sorts," Sanji scoffed, "Then again, i believe Luffy told me something before. Something about Ace being—"

"Sanji, i'm done with counting the cashier and cleaning the front. Do you need me to do anything else?"

It was almost comical how the three jumped at his voice, and none of them could move quickly enough to establish a natural pose. Marco kept his amusement to himself, in an effort to keep them from knowing that he had been listening in the entire time, "O-oh! No, no, it's fine, we're fine here, Marco," the blonde stammered, giving him a shaky grin, "You can leave the rest and leave early, i'd like to teach Pudding some of our more complicated systems,"

Well, whether it was a lie or not, Marco was already dead on his feet and he can't wait to sleep. He gave them all a good bye, yet before he left, he heard Sanji called for him, "Yes?"

The patissier was quiet for a moment, before he finally spoke, "Send my regards to him. I'll see you when you get back,"

The mood suddenly shifted inside of the kitchen. Marco gave him a nod and a thank you, grabbing his stuff and walked out of tshe kitchen.

He stood in front of the kitchen door to adjust his bag's strap, long enough to hear Pudding's much lower, muffled voice, "When he get back? Is he going somewhere?"

He didn't hear anything for the first couple of second, but Marco imagined Sanji nodding at her before he spoke, voice solemn, "He won't be in tomorrow. It's the 2nd anniversary of his brother, the previous patissier here's death,"

"Why this?"

"What do you mean 'why this'? This is what i've been promising you for weeks now!" With a grand flourish rivalling a great showman, Thatch gestured to the plentiful items littering their dining table with a proud grin on his face, "Ta-da! Your very own cooking lesson!"

Marco took a glance at the mess, at Thatch's expectant looks, and said again, "Why?"

The chef rolled his eyes, placing one hand on his hips and using the other to point at the burned indent on the ceiling, a new addition to their abode from a couple of days ago. Marco grimaced, though he wouldn't budge on his annoyance about this entire situation, "Okay, i burned food once. Doesn't mean i'm in dire need of a lesson or anything,"

"Once? Oh, so the time you sprayed and filled my kitchen - yes, mine, because you have no business being in here - with fire extinguisher foam because you burned water didn't happen, huh? What about that time you made me throw away one of my expensive frying pan because you ended up burning the plate? Or that time you fried egg without any oil? Or the time wh—"

"Okay fine, i'm a shit cook. Thank goodness it wasn't my job or anything,"

"Yes, thank goodness indeed," Thatch grinned brightly, as if he just heard Marco agreeing with him, "And that's why as a good brother who may not always be there to feed you when you're feeling even slightly peckish, i'm going to impart my wisdom to you instead!"

"You know that take out pizza is a thing, ri—"

"If you dare to speak of that blasphemy again in front of me, i will smack you with a spatula, don't think i would," he glared, because even after years, Marco would never understand his incredible hatred for cheap take-outs and fast food. The one time he found out Marco participated in the 'Pizza day' his precinct held, he refused to talk to him for an entire week, "And besides, cooking if the best way to get to get the ladies' heart. Or, you know, lads', in your case. Might actually get a date sometimes this century once you know your way in culinary arts,"

Marco stared at him, before wordlessly turned back to the direction of his bedroom.

"Ay! Don't walk away from me!"

"Thatch, it's 7 in the goddamn morning, i just came back from 2 back to back shifts, and i got less than 10 hours of sleep when i feel like i need at least 20. What makes you think that i would want to do anything right but sleep?"

Briefly, there's a look of guilt crossing the pompadoured man's expression, but he stayed determined, clasping both hands on Marco's shoulders to prevent him from escaping further, "A quick one then! Something for breakfast, since you'd need to eat too. C'mon, Marco, we haven't seen each other for days, i want to spend quality bonding time with my brother!"

It should look a little ridiculous to see a grown man like Thatch whine like that, but Marco can see his point. Despite living together, their respective jobs makes coming across each other rather hard, especially with Marco's impending promotion in sight. Being senior officer was nice and all, but he's looking forward to be promoted to captain and leave all of the footwork and long, arduous hours behind.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to the clock hanging on the kitchen wall - and opting to ignore the gleeful, victorious grin on Thatch's face - he noted that he's have another 15 hour before he had to be in the precinct again, "Fine," he conceded, and continued before Thatch can get a word in, "But only something quick. I don't want a lecture, just show me what you want to show me so i can go back to bed,"

"Well, that's no fun," the auburn haired man sniffed, "But alright, it's better than nothing. The sooner i can get some of this knowledge in your ol' noggin' the better i feel,"

Marco rolled his eyes, but still followed his sibling to the stove top.

The breakfast that Thatch promised him turns out to be not quite the type of breakfast he was thinking of, with bacons, eggs and some toast - in which case, Marco will tell him he already know how to make that, albeit not as fancy as Thatch's - but it involved something with butter, eggs, sugar and quite oddly, a rather large chocolate bar, "Are you making me pancakes or something?" he asked as the other man prepared all of the ingredients on the counter, waving off his rather condescending introduction to what an egg is. He's not that bad at culinary as a whole.

"Pancakes? Pfft, you'd think i'd be teaching you something that trite?" It would be nice if you would, Marco wanted to say in reply, because sleepy or not, everyone can do with some pancakes.

But evidently not, because the first thing Thatch did after he introduced all of the ingredients to Marco - who still insisted he's not that unknowledgeable when it comes to food - was pull out a pot and filling it with water, before pulling one of his mixing bowl and placing it on top of the pot. Immediately after he turned on the stove, Marco groaned, "Oh no, this is going to get complicated, isn't it? I thought you said this is going to be easy?"

"It is going to be easy, Marco. Damn, you're such a complainer sometimes,"

Like a true sibling he is, Thatch expertly ignored Marco's quip about how everyone would if they're sleep deprived and did the oddest thing Marco ever seen anyone doing: He pulled the chocolate bar and started dicing them, before placing all of the chopped confectionaries to the bowl, "What… are you doing?"

"I'm melting the chocolate of course. This is the first step for this recipe,"

"Yeah, i'm going to need you to explain that to me. Why the hell are you melting in on a bowl on top of a pot on top of the stove? Why not just use the pot to melt it? One less thing to wash," The face that Thatch made at his comment made Marco felt like he just said something scandalous, and he quickly waved his own words off before Thatch can say anything, "On second thought, never mind. Just… just show me what the hell that's supposed to do and be done with it,"

The process turns out not to be as tedious as he originally thought, and it was fairly straightforward. The melted chocolate was mixed with butter, the eggs were beaten and mixed with sugar - a really bizarre concept for someone who only knew eggs was ever seasoned with salt - and they were all combined with a sieved mixture of flour and cocoa powder ("Can't you just like… dump them? That tapping-tapping thing seems like a lot of work,", "Marco, for the love of god, it's called sieving. Why do you only have half of your usual intelligence in the morning?", "You're the one offering to teach me right now of all times!") until the entire thing looked glossy and smelled fairly good.

Marco still thought that this was all an effort to make chocolate pancake, until Thatch poured the mixture into some ceramic moulds and left them to bake in the oven. When he pulled them out and proudly presented them to the blonde, Marco only gave him a weary look, recognizing the shape and form from the couple of times he had seen Thatch making it for himself, "You're… making your own favorite dessert,"

"Yep, quick and easy," Thatch grinned as if nothing was wrong, though from the glint on his eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Goddamn it, you said breakfast!"

"It is breakfast! They can be eaten at any time!"

"By you, maybe! I don't even like chocolates!"

"Oh come on, what's so wrong about them?! Won't you pleeease try it out, i tweaked the recipe a bit and i need an amateur's opinion before i had Sanji use it in the patisserie!"

"It's not even a cooking lesson, then, you just wanted me to taste test for you!"

"Ha! So you do want me to teach you to cook!"

The squabble continued on for minutes on end, and it only stopped because Marco was practically dead on his feet. The next time he woke up, there's a slice of cooling dessert on his bedside table, with a note saying that they'll continue their lesson after Thatch returned home, so he better be ready for it. 'I'll make you a master chef like myself in no less than 12 weeks if its the last thing i do!" the note declared at the end, and even as he sighed in exasperation at how enthused Thatch was about this entire thing, Marco couldn't help but smile and went along for the ride.

10 weeks and 6 days later, Thatch's lifeless body was cradled in Marco's shaking arms, already lost to the world.

Marco woke up with a shudder running through his spine.

He panted like he had been running a marathon, feeling droplets of sweat making their way down from his temple and yet at the same time, felt shivering cold. A quick survey of his surrounding told him that he had fallen asleep on the sofa last night, which explain the chill and, after gaining a little more alertness, the painful crick on his neck.

"Oh shit," he breathed, covering his face with both of his hands. His skin felt clammy and wet to the touch, incredibly unpleasant sensation all around. There's a thud somewhere on the floor once he sat up, and he glanced down to see that Thatch's cooking book was now on the floor face down, some of the pages folded underneath the weight of the cover. Quickly, Marco swiped it back up and flattened the pages, before putting it on the table gingerly. Once he was sure that the book won't come into any harm, he leaned back against the sofa, trying to control his breathing and out of control heartbeat.

It wasn't as bad as it was 2 years ago, when he could barely sleep every night due to that image appearing before his eyes at almost every waking moment, and even every time he closed his eyes. Nowadays, he barely ever dreamed anymore, and when the dream would come every now and then, it would always leave him into a sweating and panting mess.

And it's a becoming a lot more frequent these last few days, the closer it comes to the anniversary of Thatch's death.

With one last sigh, Marco laid his head on the sofa's backrest and closed his eyes, feeling a pang on his chest when he recalled the memory displayed in that dream. It felt so long ago, yet if he turned his head to the right direction now, he could see the kitchen, the burn mark on the ceiling, and every little detail that matched with the kitchen he saw in his dreams. He never dared to enter there after everything, and the times he did, he felt like he was intruding Thatch's territory.

A small self-deprecating smile bloomed bitterly on his face. He wondered what Thatch would have to say about his beloved kitchen falling into disuse after he's gone. Maybe he'll be grateful to see that Marco didn't do any further damage without him around. Or maybe he'd be sad at the state of it.

Oh well, he can ask later.

He can ask it to his tombstone.

Back in his childhood, their family might be an adopted one but they were all inseparable. They go to the same school, some were even on the same grade, they do activities together and they all lived under one roof under the care of their adopted father. But adulthood and adult life drew them apart, reluctant as any of them were to be separated. They would hold reunions every couple of weeks in Pops' house, and even without the official reunion, some of them would visit or just merely keep in touch with each other, despite living in different cities and even countries.

Marco's move to Raftel city had been a solo act, until a couple of months later, he found out that Thatch had been accepted to work in the same city. He offered to be roommates and split the cost, and that had been their lives since. Living together again with Thatch was honestly like living in his childhood home, although they are now separated by working hours instead of different extracurricular activities. It was even better considering that Raftel City was quite far away from Moby, their hometown, which means that at least Marco will know someone from back home.

But after Thatch was gone, that distant become even more of an inconvenience. Thatch had been buried here instead of Moby, because their hometown was quite small and the nearest graveyard was not quite in a good shape. Pops and all of Thatch's brothers wanted what's best for him, even in death, and per Marco's request had him put not far away from where he lived so he can visit anytime and keep it in good condition.

Thatch's tombstone was quite grand compared to the rest, because Pops wouldn't settle for anything less for his children. His name bore Pops' surname, just like all of them, and the epitaph was something Marco had spent 3 days of not sleeping to write, because he wanted to encapsulate Thatch's sunny personality and fulfilling life perfectly. As he placed the bouquet of flower down against the tombstone, he brushed over the epitaph and Thatch's name with the tip of his finger.

"Hey," he said as he sat down, jostling the bottle of liquor in his hand a little. It was Thatch's favorite, some fancy red wine that he liked to buy on special occasions. He placed the bottle next to the flowers, and sat crossed legged on the grasses, a pose he always adopted every time he was here, "Hope you're doing well, wherever you are. Pops and the other brothers wanted me to tell you they missed you as always. Sanji also sent his regards,"

Marco's visit to Thatch grave doesn't happen only on the anniversary, but monthly, or even weekly when he's feeling particularly down. Odd as it is, it was his place to unwind and forgot all of his worries, and he would talk to Thatch until he can't talk anymore, spilling all of his worries, problems and others, just like he would back then. He told Thatch about the various psychiatrists that the family had him go to, he went here when he lost his job and was eventually hired by Sanji, he told Thatch about the first time he successfully recreate Sanji's recipe, and lastly, 2 months ago, he told Thatch about Ace.

"He still doesn't eat anything from the store," he told the Thatch, distracting himself by pulling some weeds away on the grasses and around the gravestone, "He already ordered everything we had, and i don't know, i was getting a little worried. What if he can't find something he liked in the store and gave up? I mean, all this time, he probably only came in because of Koala, but then, why would he order every time? He does know that not ordering is also an option if you're just going along with a friend?"

He sighed, throwing another sprig of weed, "I uh, heh, you're probably going to laugh your ass off when i tell you this, but believe it or not, i started coming up with my own recipe now,"

Then again, maybe Thatch wouldn't laugh. Maybe he'd be jumping in joy and crying tears of happiness.

"It's nothing big, and i saw some of them from your cookbook and gave it my own spin. Sanji said they're good, and the costumers loved it but," again, Marco sighed, shaking his head, "Ace, he…. he still won't eat them,"

He kept talking. Talking and talking, spilling all of his thoughts and worries and opinion about Ace that it was only by the blue sky slowly gaining a tinge of orange on the horizon that Marco realized he had stayed for quite a while. He chuckled, adjusting the flower bouquets, "Sorry, i've been talking non-stop about him, haven't i? Well, you always insisted that i talk about the people that i like to you, even though i kept telling you i don't like anyone. That never grew out in our adulthood, does it?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Marco's smile slowly vanished, "Yeah, that's what this is all about, isn't it? I think i like Ace. There's something special about him, something that makes me want to know more about him," with nothing else to do with his hand, Marco leaned his back against the stone's side, one leg outstretched and the other folded close to his chest, "That's why i wanted to keep trying to make something he'd like, because i felt like i have to succeed if i wanted to win him over, you know?"

With a weary sigh and a shaky inhale, Marco hung his head low, ignoring the pang in his chest and the scratchiness in his throat as he spoke, "But i still couldn't. I'm not as good of a cook as you or Sanji, and i don't think i ever will be. Hell, i can't even ask him out normally that i resorted in making cakes after cakes he won't eat in hope that maybe once he liked something, he'd like me too. How stupid is this brother of yours, Thatch?"

The wind around him began to pick up, and around the grassy roads, he could hear faint whistling between the grasses. There's not many people who would visit a grave as frequently as he did, and out of all the times Marco was out here, he rarely ever find another person. As the wind blew even stronger, Marco leaned his head back against the stone, and let the pressure that has been building up in his eyes to let go.

"I wish you're still here, man," he whispered, knowing that if he spoke a little louder, his voice will crack and that'll break what little restraint he had left, "I wish you're still here to listen to my rants, to listen to some stupid crush i had on a costumer i can never please, to help me coming up with new recipes to impress him and tease me endlessly about working this hard to win him. I wish i can introduce my very first crush to you in person as my boyfriend, have you lecture me over and over about what to wear on our date like i know you always wanted to do, and tell me that you and him are going to be the best of friends because you and him will probably make fun of me together and you will tell him every embarrassing stories about me because i know you would've liked Ace, Thatch,"

When the first drop from the sky fell, Marco couldn't even distinguish if the wetness on his face was from the rain or his tears. He sat there even as little droplets became harder and more frequent, and he was soaked to the bone. Marco barely cared. It hurts, it still does even after 2 years, and he suspect it won't stop hurting for a long time.

"I miss you, brother. I miss my best friend," he closed his eyes, hanging his head down and ignoring that his hair had gone flat against his temple and the back of his scalp.

The wind blows again, this time ruffling even Marco's heavily soaked tresses. He ignored it, pulling both of his legs closer to his chest as he rested both his arms on top of them.

He sat there for a while, ignoring the drizzles and the wetness that began to seep underneath his clothes. His heart was still pounding, his chest was still hurting, and with every breath that he took, his lips quiver, "I wish you're still here to help me,"

The rain pours down for who knows how long, the pitter patter sound of water from the heavens dropping to the ground becoming increasingly calming. Marco sat there just listening to it, trying to sooth himself before he could be deemed suitable to face society again without feeling like his heart has been torn into two.

But as he sat there, he noticed that while the sound of the rain still surround him, rain water no longer fell on him. Confused, he slowly lifted his head, and found with some degree of surprised that there's a pair of legs standing in front of him, clad in a partially wet jeans, as if the owner had been walking in the rain for quite some time. He looked up, curious and wishing to thank the person before sending them on their way, before he saw the person's face and widened his eyes.

Ace looked down at him with downcast eyes, his hair fairly wet despite holding an umbrella, and the top of his shirt soaking wet and thin enough to reveal the skin underneath.

As Marco still rendered silence by this unexpected reveal, the younger knelt down to eye level with him, "When you told me to come back again today," he began softly, "You didn't tell me that you're not going to be in,"

Through bloodshot eyes, Marco could only stare at him, and after a long period of silence, finally spoke, "Sorry,"

With a little laugh, Ace smiled, just a hint brighter, as if Marco has said something amusing. The dark haired male turned his gaze from Marco to the tombstone behind him. There's something unreadable and far away on his eyes, even as he shifted his eyes back to Marco and gave him a small, sad smile, "I need to talk to you, and wanted to ask if you'd go have a coffee with me, but i can wait here, if you still want to stay a little longer,"

The offer surprised him again, Marco's eyes flickered at the offer. He glanced back at the tombstone and to Ace, who was still giving him the same patient smile.

The wind blows again, this time a little harder and nearly made Ace topple from his perch. Marco caught him before he could fall, and shook his head, "No, it's fine. I think even my brother would agree that i've been here for far too long,"

Hi there i haven't written angst in a while and i think you can probably tell.

Also, writing this fic often makes me crave cakes and sweets. I'm gonna have one after i publish this.

Please let me know what you think about this so far and what you'd need me to add or elaborate a bit more because i know i made this in quite a rush so i may left a lot of glaring mistakes.

Thank you so much for reading and i hoped you liked it!