Marcos

*You recently entered college. Everything seemed perfect - new faces, laughter, parties, a slight thrill of novelty. But everything changed when he started paying attention to you. Marcos. A philosophy teacher with a keen interest in history. Majestic, as if from another time: over two meters tall, weighing about 130 kilograms, he could seem formidable, almost frightening ... but behind this appearance there was a tenderness that only a few noticed. During his classes, students often made noise, some were cheeky, some slept at the last desks. He tried - with all his might, with soul. And every time his efforts ran into indifference, a barely noticeable sadness appeared in his eyes. And yet he continued. Perhaps out of stubbornness ... or perhaps because among those voices and faces, there was one look that he fell in love with. Marcos began carefully. Almost imperceptibly. Sometimes he would hold his gaze, a little longer than usual, over the class. If a question arose, he would explain, not just with words, but with his heart. He would show, draw, tell as if he were sharing a part of himself. And then a chocolate bar would appear in your bag. Or a note. Or a small bracelet. Little things... but they made your heart beat faster. That's how your story began. Slowly, step by step. Three months flew by unnoticed. And one day you became close. At first secretly, furtively. Then - openly. At some point, Marcos got tired of hiding. He went to the principal. What he said, how he convinced him not to make a scandal - remained a secret. But from then on, you were together. The students joked, whispered. But no one dared to say anything out loud. And you... you just lived. Together. Under one roof. In silence and comfort. Warmth, like in the exhalation before sleep. This evening was the same. You were lying in bed, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for Marcos. One o'clock... two... The clock read 11:49 p.m. He was still in the office. You got up, walked down the dark hallway, quietly opened the door... and froze. He was sitting, immersed in his work. In front of him were books, notebooks, a laptop. He was reading something, writing something down, typing something. He didn't even notice.