As you walk along the mostly empty sidewalk of the city you happened to find yourself in, you kick a small and worn journal. Curious, you pause and pick it up, gingerly flipping to the first page...
about.
Max || 24 || they/them || sfw blog
(Used to be >> settersandsmaus)
occasionally posts on ao3 as moonlitmax
Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Naruto, Tokyo Revengers, Demon Slayer, Blooming Panic, Monster Prom
M.List
Latest
When it Comes to You || Jean Kirstein x reader
Crash and Burn || Nanami Kento x reader
Together Again || Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader
What they Notice about you || misc haikyuu
What Could Have Been || Open Collab
For You, Anything || Nakedtoaster x reader (bloomic)
rules.
There will be absolutely no harrasment, hate, discourse or anything along those lines on this blog.
That being said, if anything is posted, reblogged or mentioned that is questionable, or from problematic sources, please let me know and I will deal with it
This is strictly a SFW blog, I will not be posting/answering asks/ect. Anything NSFW
This is a safe space, all are welcome here
My ask box/ requests are open however, I may not answer/write for that, as everything is relative to my motivation levels and all that fun stuff
Going off that, characters I write for will either be adults or aged up, typically I am good about writing this into my works, but Im stating it here as well.
Lastly, this blog is always a work in progress, I will be editing things into my rules and trying to fix broken links and all that as I go, so bear with me
housekeeping.
since I am changing my blog around I am going to have new tags which are;
#/penpal-(name/blog name) ă for my mutuals !
#/journal entries ă for the posts i make that aren't fics !
#/passing notes/ note from ă asks I get/the asks i send and rb !
#/library finds ă fics that I reblog that aren't mine/recommends
#/museum date ă fan art, or original works that i rb
#/will queue write with me ă things i queue or schedule !
#/book club ă events that I plan, or join !
For now that's all I have, but I'll add any new ones as I go!
Thanks a bunch! Some things about me, I am a male, and Iâm gay. For fandom I want Tokyo rev and kny. If I can only do one fandom Iâm fine with Tokyo rev only.
I'd consider myself a weird person overall. I don't show off my real personality unless I'm with my friends. My real personality can include referencing stuff/inside jokes with my friends, using sex jokes, being playfully mean, use dark humor, use brain rot humor (almost), and say things that don't make sense. Along with my real personality, I'm also considered to be antisocial, dumb, petty, loud without realizing, moody. Mentality wise, I overthink a lot, believe everyone hates me, have OCD, and have depression. Other things about me include cussing a lot, being a pothead, say a variety of words often, and say fucked up shit whenever it's dead silent in a room.
Some interests and hobbies of mine include anime, horror in general, reading fanfics, smoking pot, shopping, using Tiktok, listening to music, hanging out with friends, and procrastinating.
okay i havent really written in a while so im a liiiitle rusty but i digress,,,,
(for that reason i also only did a tokyo rev match up < 3< 3 )
((i also apologize again for the wait đ ive had this half done for like four ish days but work just absolutely kills me with my wage cage hell shifts))
so, knowing what i know, i would absolutely adore seeing you paired with none other than,,,,,
chifuyu matsuno !!!!!!
-personally, i think that Chifuyu is a healthy balance of introvert and extrovert,, which leads me to this;
-heâd definitely introduce himself first, cool, casual and collected, something heâs grown into as he got older (only the outside ofc, everyone internally panics or just has the windows loading screen in their brains ((its me, im everyone)) )
-heâs fairly observant when heâs not being absorbed into someone elseâs daily shenanigans, so he wouldnât pressure you into being his friend right away, wanting to get a general understanding of you and your personality
-heâd think youâre funny, Chifuyu definitely has that same kind of humor when heâs around his close friends, and thatâs how heâd start to get closer with you
-one day its making a semi crude joke at the expense of another member in the group, just to poke fun in what was probably a dry conversation, then the next day its inviting you along for a ride on his bike
-youâd never really ridden on one before, much less with someone else driving. its a bit nerve wracking at first.
-i mean, youâre sitting on the back of his bike, helmet strapped on (rule number one of any sort of bike âŒïž) arms wrapped around chifuyu as he does whatever it is that starts the thing
-so thereâs the whole, its not a car and thereâs no seatbelt thing, but also arms around a cute guy on the back of his bike thing
-all in all it was actually a pretty safe ride, exhilarating on the straightaways where he could speed some, easy on the corners so you could get a glimpse of passing scenery
-youâd treat him to a sweet treat afterwards, chatting about how you actually enjoyed the ride, and that melts into a normal conversation where you can be yourself.
-soon enough youd find yourself off on random excursions with him, wandering a park or by some old railroad tracks, hanging around a local convenience store so no one bothers the owners, you name it, youâre basically his second at that point
-and chifuyu likes to learn more about you as time goes on, your favorite horror movies or the latest dark joke you thought of, sharing headphones to figure out what kind of music you like best, time never seems to pass quietly with the two of you
-heâs also gentle with you on days that arent as copasetic for you. heâd ask if you want his company to keep any negativity away as best as possible, and bring over some manga he politely borrowed from takamitchy (stole is the word takamitchy uses)
-its not long before you guys are fairly inseparable, most days all the others hear are half of an inside joke, a bit of playful banter with some choice swear words, and a good amount of laughter (though you guys lock in as needed ofc)
-the day that things become official is different than those though
-it starts off with another ride around the city when days off from work or classes line up for you both
-youâve gotten better with being his backpack, leaning with him on the turns as needed, holding onto him with the right amount of security, all of that nonsense
-heâd find a nice little view to stop at, surprising you by climbing off the bike and helping you off
-heâd walk towards the nearest tree or large rock, whatever gets yall out of the way of passersbys
-chifuyu would definitely be a bit red in the face and stumble over his words, talking about how heâs been thinking a lot and how heâs noticed that things with you just feel better than with anyone else
-it takes a lot to not make a joke about âwhoâs the other âwomanâ (or man or whomever) that heâs referring toâ
-and then it all kind ofâŠspills out. heâs got big feelings for you, and has had them for awhile, and just never quite knew how to put them into words, but chifuyu is most certainly an overthinker so he had to tell you before he thought himself to death
-youâd let him know, albeit a little bluntly, that youâve been feeling and thinking the same way, which takes both of you a minute to process
-eventually youâd end up going to get something sweet to eat, much like the first time you ever went on a ride him, except this time, things are different in a good way, the same kind of jokes are said, and maybe you get a little too loud in the shop, but thats who you are, and thats part of why he likes you, besides heâs definitely the same way
specifically for the anon who was asking about the match up if you see this !!! i have not forgotten đ i got logged out of my account and for the life of me could not remember my password i pinky promise ive got it almost ready <\3
Hi! Idk if youâre taking requests right now, but if you are can I please request headcannons or a scenario of Izana finding out he has a younger half brother(reader is younger than him by a year)from his bio parents? After reader was born, they give him to a different orphanage and he was adopted by another family. Izana finds out about his existence, after Shinichiroâs death. And maybe how Izana would treat him/interact with him(fluff if possible)? Iâm sorry if this is a little too much.
hi!!! First, thank you sm for sending this in to me! I donât get to write for tokyo rev as much as I want to so i was pretty excited for this! On that note tho,,,i really don't know enough about Izana like I probably should, so if this is a bit out of character or idk inconsistent with the actual timeline i am so sorry đ i also wrote this half awake so i rlly hope its not like choppy or anything,,,but anyways !!!! Also this literally took my ages to finish and i am so sorry đ i have the worst time with writing things especially when i /want/ to write them (and work has been a whole other thing so) but ANYWAYS
It's been some two years since Izanaâs older brother died. Most of those years he had spent in denial of sorts, and there was of course, the anger that he had tried so hard not to give in to.
Two long years of carefully avoiding anyone he used to know, all while crafting his own gang as their new leader. Anything to get back at those who have wronged him, stolen from himâŠhurt him. He would have his kingdom, and no one could stop him, not even Manjiro Sano.
âHey boss, this was left by the door.â A voice he doesnât care to distinguish cuts him from his thoughts, and Izana turns to look at the manila envelope being held out to him.
He takes it quickly, flipping it over a few times before tearing it open, dumping out the contents onto the short glass table in front of him.
Pictures stare back at him. Most of which are of a young boy, and who he can assume is the boyâs family.
Izana rifles through the photos, an unwelcome feeling of anxiety shooting through his body as his eyes landed on a photocopy of a birth certificate, and an adoption paper.
âUhh, sir?â The Tenjiku member shifted his weight on his feet, âis that like, someone we have to take out?â
Izanaâs eyes slide to him, a look of pure annoyance filling them as Izana waves him off wordlessly.
Izana looks back to the pictures spread out in front of him, the unknown boy in each one who looks like he couldnât be more than a year or two younger than Izana himself.
The words of his mother chimed in the back of his head. She had told him that he wasnât blood relatives with his family. She had told him that he was all alone. That there was no one he truly had as a family.
In a sudden fit of rage, Izana found himself flipping the glass table onto its side, watching as it slid away and into the nearest wall.
He approached the mess of glass and photos, chest heaving. He once more peered into the eyes of that young boy, and snatched up the picture, alongside the adoption record.
He knew what he needed to do.
It only took about a week to find the kid. It took maybe another for Izana to work up the nerve to approach him.
He was sitting alone outside of a school, reading some manga that had seen better days. The thing was battered and its pages yellowed.
âHey kid.â He said, watching as the younger boy stilled.
He looked up, puzzled, âuhâŠhi?â
With a clear view of his face, Izana could see the resemblance between himself and his half brother. A lot of it was in the eyes, he had the same eyes, the same never ending stare.
âAre you-â he started, but the words caught in his throat, unable to bring him to speak the name.
âAm I what?â The boy furrowed his brows, taking a second to study Izana.
Then he did something that surprised him.
âYouâre Izana! Izana Kurokawa!â He grinned, immediately getting to his feet, âthat means you got my message!â
âYou sent the pictures?â Izana could hardly believe it. How did this kid figure it out?
The younger boy nodded, âWell, I knew from the start that I was adopted, and well my family isnât very secretive. But I never thought that I would have a brother! When I asked my parents they said that we had been separated when we were really young andâŠâ
The kid rambled on, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.
âYou parents told youâŠ?â Izana felt his stomach churn. Of course he wasnât the lucky one. He had spent his whole life living a lie, and now the truth was right in front of him.
Before the kid could answer, Izana asked another question, âAre you hungry?â
He wasn't sure where it came from, but Izana had the urge to take care of the kid. Perhaps it was something he picked up from Sinichiro, or maybe it was just him wanting to be there for the kid like how he had wanted when he was younger, in the days before the Sano family.
âUhâŠyeah I guess so!â
And that was all it took.
For the following weeks Izana would wake up earlier than normal just to walk with his half brother to school.
He would take him out for meals when the two could get away with it.
Izana had his gang carefully follow him around in case anyone tried to mess with the kid.
It wasnât until one of his members brought it up to him that Izana even realized how much he was doing for the kidâŠfor his brother.
He caught himself with a small smile on his face any time he thought about how he could do something for the kid.
Izana even began to catch himself thinking about what they could do when the kid was older. Would he want to move in with him? Maybe the kid could learn to ride one of the motor bikes with Izana. He would think about maybe even one day having him join the gang, mostly for safety reasons, but maybe in case Izana needs to pass on the mantle for any reason.
And the craziest thing about it to him was that he wasnât even sure when he started to think this way.
All he knew was that the kid was his brother, and nothing would ever change that or come between them again.
Hi, im the one that made the Izana request. I just wanted to say thank you for letting me know I really appreciate it and Iâm sorry for the late response.
Hi hi!! So sorry i just saw this đđ i am actually almost done with the req! It kind of got away from me so its a little long lmao
I would have gotten it done sooner but work has been kicking my ass đ but !! Im thinking i should have it done like today or tomorrow i think đ€
Anyways!!! I really appreciate the req and coming back!!
Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.
Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3
wk: 16.7k
Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows
"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing.Â
Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth.Â
The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'
The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen.Â
So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!"Â
"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.
Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole hereâŠ"
But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.
"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean.Â
Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together. Â
You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up.Â
Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.
"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough."Â
When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully.Â
Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,â you announced, âplease text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."
Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.
Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him.Â
With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soupâŠor what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now.Â
"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"
With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting."Â
You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them."Â
"I can't hit my group matesâŠeven if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.
"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so.Â
This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far.Â
Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it.Â
When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily.Â
There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do.Â
"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars."Â
You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too."Â
At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"
"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips."Â
"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.
You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!"Â
"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any."Â
The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.
You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade.Â
Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told.Â
This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong.Â
Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need.Â
You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia.Â
That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phoneâs note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean.Â
Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadnât really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that youâd end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?
Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room.Â
You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions.Â
"She was drinking with Connie at his place,"Â
"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' thenâŠand then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile.Â
You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.
"Yeah, he and Jean bothâŠ" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed, Marco pulled her shoes off for her.Â
At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her.Â
"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.
As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.
Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving.Â
A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number.Â
"Heyy, it's me"
"Jean"
"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"
"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren"Â
You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, âWow really? I couldnât tell.â
Another buzz, another incoming message, âI really hate that guy. Heâs stuck up, and always thinks heâs rightâ
âYou know, I feel like thereâs someone else like that too.â You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didnât mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.
A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, âyou better not be implying that im like himâ
âI would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyesâ
âJust okay? Iâm fuckinâ great!â
âYeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%â
You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, âI dont know if I believe that.â
âI dont care if you believe it or not tbhâ
âI cant tell if you like me or notâ
At this, you paused. You didnât really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldnât be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didnât want to outright say that you didnât like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.
âim not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.âÂ
âThats a good thing right?â
You didnât answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet.Â
You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you.Â
"Thanks man, you're the best."Â
"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards,"Â
You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."
"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.
"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen."Â
Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!"Â
The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up.Â
The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean.Â
Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning.Â
Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before.Â
You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving. Â
Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention. Â
There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole messâŠyou were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too.Â
However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy.Â
You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way.Â
"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.
"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went.Â
"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?"Â
"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing meâŠ"Â
You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!"Â
At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time."Â
"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is."Â
With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work.Â
Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze.Â
Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really.Â
And maybe if he hadnât spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.
Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.
At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others.Â
"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off.Â
For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head.Â
"Is there something you need orâŠ?"Â
"You're seriously going to stay and work more?"Â
"...Yeah?"Â
Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off.Â
"What are youâŠWhyâŠI mean-what?"Â
"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work."Â
You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying.Â
Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned.Â
The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.
Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.
For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you.Â
"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you.Â
"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted.Â
"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out.Â
"Not true,â you said. âSasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot,"Â
At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people."Â
"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends.Â
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."
You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record"Â
"Ouch, that kind of stings."Â
You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either. Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked.Â
Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm.Â
It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you.Â
You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience.Â
"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you.Â
From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was.Â
Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple.Â
"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said.Â
"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet.Â
Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?"Â
"Iâm waiting,"Â
"For what?"Â
"The first star I see"Â
Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?"Â
"No."Â
It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it.Â
His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there."Â
From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didnât notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment.Â
"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet.Â
The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening.Â
With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.
The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.
"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha.Â
And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!"Â
You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind.Â
"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed."Â
She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?"Â
You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands.Â
The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else.Â
At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie.Â
For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean.Â
No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head.Â
It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening.Â
"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it.Â
The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are."Â
At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you.Â
"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you.Â
More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,â he sneered. âAnd besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot."Â
You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch.Â
You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.
"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.
None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off.Â
And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you.Â
When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air.Â
"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.
Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away."Â
All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up.Â
From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content.Â
Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming."Â
You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see thatâŠI honestly didn't know that I was going to hit himâŠuntil right after."Â
"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him.Â
"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.
"Sasha! I don't start fights!"Â
Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight. Â
It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sortsâwhich, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better.Â
âHey, should we go back for our things?â Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.
âYeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.â Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.
You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. âOh yeah, youâd be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.âÂ
Connieâs mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after todayâs events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.
Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone.Â
âMarco! You made it!â Connie shouted out, drawing your friendâs attention. âYou missed all the action; it was insane!â
âHuh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?âÂ
As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question.Â
âYou only missed a little of our game-â
âWe had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!â
âWeâve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!â
Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. âYou punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!â
A small and almost shy smile escaped you, âWell, to be fair he started it. I honestly didnât even think about doing it; my hand moved on itâs own,â
He only shook his head, looking back around the group. âSo, are we still playing?â
Jean shook his head. âMaybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?â
âOh! Iâve got some fun games!â Sasha chimed in, then paused. âBut Iâm kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!â
Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasnât exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen.Â
You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didnât take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you.Â
âOkay, listen up, Iâm not explaining this twice,â Connie announced. âThe game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If itâs heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If itâs tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.â Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.
The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connieâs name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco.Â
âIt asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,â Marco explained.
âWhat? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!âÂ
âHah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,â Jean remarked âAnd not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?â
Connie grumbled a bit, but didnât try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn.Â
From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: âOut of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?â
You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldnât really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jeanâs name, looking anywhere but at his face.Â
âThat took you some time; must be a good card.â Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.
Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely.Â
A chorus of oooâs and ahhâs filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer.Â
The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: âI hope you plan to take me out first, Iâm not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you.Â
âWhatever, justâŠwhoever is next, take your turn.â You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold.Â
Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet.Â
Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldnât argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just werenât sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didnât even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable.Â
And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.
Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldnât-no /wouldnât/ deal with something like that again.Â
You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein.Â
âSuffocating yourself?âÂ
You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times.Â
âUhâŠno, not quite what Iâm going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,â you joked.
He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. âThen whatâs with the face-in-pillow tactic?â
You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. âOh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thingâŠâ
His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. âYeah, for once I donât buy that, but if you donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you to spill the details."
Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldnât hurt to tell him, since he wouldnât ever tell a secret that wasnât his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly.Â
âOkayâŠWellâŠthat card I got earlier,â you began. âIâm just worried, and I know that itâs just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.â
âWorried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that youâd actually want to kiss him?â
Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his.Â
âWould saying both make sense?â
He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. âWell, Iâm sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.â Another pause. âAs for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldnât say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that itâs Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you couldâŠtest it out?"
âTest it out?â you repeated, confused.
âYeah,â he said, nodding. âLike ask him to hang out or something. You donât have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if itâs just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.â
You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasnât like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.
âYouâre right, Iâll definitely try that.â You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. âThanks, Iâm glad youâre here.â
âWhat would you do without me? And donât worryâ I wonât say anything to anyone. my lips are sealedâ He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.
âOkay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldnât recommend telling a soul.âÂ
He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didnât wake up once.
The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasnât super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace.Â
Though, it didnât last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin.Â
âI hope you donât mind us joining you!â Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didnât pick your table without a reason.Â
âUh, no thatâs okay.âÂ
He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers.Â
For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action.Â
He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. âSo, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so iâm thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesnât want to admit it.âÂ
You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, âIâm not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.â
Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasnât his stare that bothered you. You now had Arminâs attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, âWell, Iâm not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?âÂ
You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you werenât upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something youâd stay okay with.
âWell heâs been bitching about it all day. Itâs starting to get on my nerves.â Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did.Â
âDoes he expect you to do something about it?â You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.
âIâm sure thats what he wants, but Iâm not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.â
A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasnât due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it.Â
This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you werenât the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you werenât sure when it was due for him, but it wouldnât be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.
You werenât all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you werenât the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.
Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most peopleâs attention.Â
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.
âHey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.â
At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean.Â
âWhere are you?â you replied.
After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.
âCome and find me.âÂ
And that was it. He didnât send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.
âI think Iâm going to head out. Letâs meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hangeâs assignment.â
Armin glanced up, and smiled, âOkay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all Iâve finished!â
âSounds good.â You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction.Â
There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the libraryâs computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh.Â
With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome.Â
You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you werenât able to get a word out before he could make fun of you.Â
âYou looked really dumb running around trying to find me.â
You gave an astonished laugh, âYeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.â
âAnd you still came to find me. Iâm starting to think you like me more than you let on.âÂ
The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you werenât surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. âIn your dreams.â You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you.Â
âHm, I guess thatâs true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?â He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.
You didnât say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. âTo answer your question about who I was with, I actually didnât plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.â
He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, âDo you think I could spit on Eren from here?â
âNo, and I dont think you should even try.âÂ
âBuzzkill.â
You scoffed, âI am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.â
Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. âI just donât get what everyone sees in that guy. Heâs clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.â
âDo you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?â
âDonât lump me in with him.â This he said more seriously, âAnyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?â
âLike what?â
He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldnât tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic.Â
âHey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, itâs about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?â
He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. âOkay, it doesnât sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.â
âWould eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?â
âFriday works better for me, I think Iâve got plans with Connie on Satuday.âÂ
âOkay, Friday it is.â You paused, a smile slowly making itâs way onto your face, âJust make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.â
âHey! I already apologized for that.â He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.
You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, âI need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.â
âI am not going to be hungover again. Iâm not going to make you wait, I swear.â
âYou better not, I wonât be as forgiving this time.â You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do.Â
He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, âYou were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,â Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, âWait, where are we even going?â
You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. âWell, Iâve done nothing but school work today, and you didnât mention anything specific other than âgo do somethingâ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.â
âAre you going to tell me where we are heading at least?â
âNo.â You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.
He was pretty tall, and when he wasnât smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didnât know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadnât noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness. And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.
You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy.Â
Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head.Â
Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing.Â
As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot,"Â
You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."
He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer,"Â
"Closer to hiding your body?"
"Not quite what I was thinkingâŠ" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."
As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents.Â
"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree."Â
"And yet you brought me hereâŠI'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree.Â
In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree.Â
After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.
You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you.Â
"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"
"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him.Â
Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind.Â
You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at.Â
"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.
He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person."Â
You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again?Â
"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here."Â
"You hate it here that much?"Â
You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone.Â
You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm justâŠprojecting something else onto it."Â
Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next."Â
He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding.Â
It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face.Â
"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all."Â
He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."
You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet.Â
"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."
"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."
"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.
"You dont think I'm charming?"Â
The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest.Â
"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."
At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at."Â
"You missed the word horrible,"Â
He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes."Â
You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you."Â
"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've gotâŠbox mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken."Â
You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go."Â
You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you.Â
"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you.Â
"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.
"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant."Â
"Again, you left out the horrible part."Â
"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school.Â
You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing."Â
Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you."Â
You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk.Â
What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadnât even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean.Â
As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.
âHey, if you really donât want to try my cooking, you donât have to come.â He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment.Â
You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again.Â
The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone.Â
You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer.Â
You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasnât even set in stone.Â
You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, âNo way, you said it was a five star dinner. I canât pass on that.â
He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, âOkay good, I wasnât sure what to do if you bailed on me.â
âMaybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.â You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove.Â
âWhy would you say that! I canât have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!âÂ
âSure you can! Itâs easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!âÂ
Jean groaned and shook his head. âYouâre horrible.â
âPleasant, actually.â You grinned.Â
He hummed in response, and you couldâve swore you heard him mumble âhorribly pleasant my assâ
His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms.Â
One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasnât until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror.Â
âWell if it isnât our very own Rocky!â He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats.Â
âHey Connieâ you waved, then smirked a little, âI'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.âÂ
His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, âFor your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-â
Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, âLike you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.âÂ
Connie gaped, âDude, thatâs just cold. I thought you liked my face.âÂ
You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, âromantic dinnerâÂ
Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, âand here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.âÂ
Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment.Â
âOnly if it involves candles and music.â You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you werenât sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly.Â
His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, âMight need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.â Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, âUnless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.â He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self.Â
You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, âNo candles, no deal.â You pause, practically feeling Connieâs wide eyed stare pointed at your back.Â
âThatâs not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?â Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasnât wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm.Â
You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, âSure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.âÂ
After a moment of silence, Connieâs voice fills the room. âYeah so, I donât really know whats going on here, but iâm gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.â He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, âSee ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.â
To which, all Jean says is, âYeah, whatever man.â
You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasnât noticed your stares yet, not when heâs busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves.Â
Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic.Â
âDo you need help with anything?â You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around.Â
Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. âDo you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?âÂ
You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, âWhere do you keep your pots and pans?â
âPlanning on making this a fancy dinner?â He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. âAre you steaming them?â
You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, âWould you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?â
Jean smiled sheepishly, âIâve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, youâll have to get creative. But youâre pretty smart, so I believe in you.â
You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. Youâd have to figure something else.Â
The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli.Â
âOkay, so Iâll bite. Whatâs your deal?â Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, âI mean! UhâŠWell-â
You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, âDo you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?â
He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, âI meant it a little nicer though.â
âIts okay, I got what you meantâŠI think.â You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate.Â
Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, âItâs just thatâŠyou spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. Iâve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. ButâŠâ
âBut?â
âThey worry about you. Sasha and Marco that isâŠand well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.â
You donât respond. Heâs going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.
âI think that even just in the past few days, youâve opened up a lotâŠI finally got to see you smile.â He paused, âI remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe youâd smile.â
âI remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.â You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.
âSoâŠI guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?â He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when heâs focusing on his work. Youâve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.
With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, âIâve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, Iâve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the questionâŠâ You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud.Â
âBut?â He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now.Â
âBut nothing. I meant what I said. Iâm getting out of this hell and Iâm not looking back. Ever.â you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards.Â
You moved to stand suddenly. âI have to goâŠI forgot that Iâm supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that Iâm ready to show him my part..and yours too.â You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall.Â
You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths, not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed.Â
âAre you okay?â Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadnât even noticed that he was home.
You didnât answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done.Â
âI donât know what Iâm doing anymore.â The words fell from your lips, and you couldnât stop what came after them, âThis whole time iâve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldnât get distractedâŠand so that leaving would be easier.âÂ
âWhat changed then?â Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
âJean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I havenât even really known him that long and suddenly Iâm throwing away school just to hang out with him. I havenât been studying the same way I used to, instead Iâm playing volleyball with him, and heâs holding my hand as we run away. Iâm sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. Iâm cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.â Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.
âYou do know that those donât have to be bad things, right?â He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, âItâs been nice to see you let loose. And I know that youâve been enjoying yourself.â
You attempt to frown, âThats not true.âÂ
A beat passes and you speak again, âOkay. Maybe a littleâŠbut I-â
âNo. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. Itâs time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesnât mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?â
His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away.Â
âOkay.â You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, âI left Jean.â
âWhat?â
âWe were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I justâŠI just left. â
Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. âWellâŠtheres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that youâre alright, and just so that the poor guy doesnât overthink, that he didnât cause you to run off.â
You nodded, âRight. Okay. I can do that.â
It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didnât last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well.Â
âSo, Iâm assuming that you like JeanâŠat least a little bit.â
âOkay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.â You push him gently, facing away from Marco.Â
âAre you going to tell him?â
âOh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.â
He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, âgoodnight lovebird.â
Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter. Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.
You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadnât said anything since then.Â
Slowly you typed out an apology. âHey Jean, Iâm really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.â
You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. âSorry about earlier, I didnât mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasnât you, or the food for that matter.âÂ
You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer.Â
Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. âIts okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.â
He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again.Â
Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, âLet me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.â
âYou really donât have to make anything up to me, I get it.â
âJean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.â
His next message wasnât exactly what you thought heâd sayâŠor actually, it was exactly what he would say, âOh, so if I donât let you have your way, you will be up all nightâŠthinking about me?â
âNo.â You hit send. Then sent another message, âYkw nevermind. Iâm not sorry. Be on time friday or else.â
He was quick to shoot back another response, âOkay fine. Make it up to me.â
Then another message, âHow do you plan on doing that anyways?â
âYouâll see. Be patient.â
It wasnât long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night.Â
The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning.Â
You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag.Â
You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day.Â
You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.
You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean.Â
The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors.Â
Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket.Â
You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. âSorry Iâm late.â
He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, âIs this to get back at me for the other day?â
âNoâŠI just slept past my first alarm.â
âOh so when youâre late its okay but when Iâm late its the worst thing ever.â
You shrugged slightly, âI at least texted you in advance.â You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, âOhâŠum. I got you this. To make up for bailing.â
He eyed the bag suspiciously, âI thought I told you not to worry about it.â
âI worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.â You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, âNo refunds so you have to keep it.â
His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was.Â
âYou bought me a new sketchbook?â He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, âThis is a really nice brand too. Iâve always wanted to try it out.â
âYour other one looked a little full the other dayâŠso I figured I could afford a nice one to say that Iâm sorry. â
Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, âWellâŠthank you. I really appreciate this.â He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours.Â
You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, âLetâs get going, thereâs a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.â
Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so.Â
âI come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.â He said, pulling you along with him.Â
It wasnât too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.
When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jeanâs hand slip from yours.
You hadnât thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists.Â
You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky.Â
âYou like this one?â You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him.Â
He nodded, âItâs simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.â He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the pieceâs title, âPaths.â With an unnamed author.Â
You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, thatâs what you wanted to think. You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on.Â
You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.
It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass.Â
âThis is what started the book, right?â You asked, watching as he nodded once.
âBut thatâs not what iâm thinking about.â
âThen whatâs going on in your mind?â
Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, âWhy did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?â
You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there.Â
âWhen I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.â You paused, thinking back on your childhood, âI used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than thatâŠand then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasnât relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.â
âIâd say that they came true then.â Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.
You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, âAnd what makes you say that?â
âYouâve made two whole friends.âÂ
âIâve made three.â You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, âSasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.â You state matter of factly.
He chuckles, shaking his head. âAnd the third? Donât tell me itâs FlochâŠor even worse, Eren.â
âMmm close. Itâs you.âÂ
He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, âHow long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.â
âYouâre still horribly pleasant.â You remark, shaking your head, âMaybe I should take it back about being friends.â
âToo late, you already said it. No refunds.â He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. âCan I ask you a question?â
âIsnât that technically already a question?â You pause, then nod to him, âBut, yeah, go for it.â
âWhen you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?â
You hesitate. You knew that he wasnât really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.
âNo. I wont. How could I?â Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesnât speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, âWhen it comes to you, specifically youâŠI would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.â
âI am pretty coolâŠâ He mumbles, then swallows his pride, âBut, what if I donât want you to remember me?âÂ
You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.
âI just meanâŠwhat if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?âÂ
He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really.Â
You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasnât one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little.Â
âI think iâd like that.â You smile warmly, âBecause I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I donât want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.â You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, âMaybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.â
âSo, you donât want to skip town and never look back?â he asks
âSkip town? Still do, but I canât afford to ignore my time here.âÂ
âWhat if I came with you when you leave.â itâs less of a question, and more of an idea.
âLetâs just get to graduation first, Jean.â
He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, âGot ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.â
You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. âYou know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.â
âLast one, I promise.âÂ
âOkay, okay, what is it?â
âCan I kiss you?â
Youâre suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes.Â
The stiffness leaves Jeanâs body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face.Â
He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. Youâre sure that you could stand there all day with him.Â
[7.3k] a sappy retelling of an old story, toute-belle, with a huntsman twist
a note: this is for @tsukkismoonlightâs collab that they had a while back based on old fairytales/myths. itâs taken me quite a bit of time to finish this one but i hope you all enjoy! this is also,,, unedited :)
now playing⊠monster by dpsm (piano cover)
âthe end,â you concluded, flipping the last page of the picture book you held. placing it down on the bedside table, you shifted your weight on the bed to look at your two kids. two beautiful babies that you had nurtured into who they were today, though they werenât babies anymore.
emiko, your eldest, a boy who looked just like his father was now six. and his younger sister kazumi, two years his junior, was now four. she strikingly resembled you, with her hair and eyes being oh so familiar to the ones you saw in the mirror. but her demeanor was ruled by her father. she was a daddyâs girl.
âdo we have to go to bed now bubba?â emiko whined, pleading eyes boring into your soul. âcanât we just have one more story?â
you sighed and unbeknownst to you, your husband ken ryuguji, was smiling to himself at the doorway of your childrenâs bedroom. he couldnât help but feel overwhelmed with the love he held for the three of you. you were such a good parent to your children and he felt so lucky to have married you and brought more light into the world.
âdaddy!â squealed your four-year-old, and you turned your head to see him. a small smile graced your features not unlike the one that was also on kenâs face. he came to sit behind you, placing a kiss on your temple.
âwhatâs one more story my love?â he said, which in turn had your kids brighten up. he could never deny them anything and you sighed leaning back against him.
âwell then by all means ken, please tell us a story,â you spoke softly, snuggling back into him as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. he glanced down at your face, the smile spreading. you looked so serene and he remembered the days when you were referred to as toute-belle by your kingdom.
âonce upon a timeâŠâ
-
once upon a time, there was a brilliant and beautiful child that was born to the king. as soon as they were able to walk and explore the land, the people bestowed the nickname of toute-belle to them, meaning all beautiful. as the new heir was the most beautiful being in all of the land.
though in the early years of their life, the heirâs father, the king grew sick, and having lost their mother after their birth, toute-belle was left in the care of their stepmother. she had always been kind to the gem of the land, and so toute-belle was not disheartened.
as years went by their father grew sicker, and by the time toute-belle reached the age of fifteen the king passed. a tragedy to all those in the kingdom, but with toute-belle being too young to rule, the queen began her reign.
in the days and then weeks after the death of the king, toute-belle began to spend most of their time exploring the outskirts of the forest that was near the castle. and one day they met a young boy. he was the son of a huntsman.
slightly dozing while draken spoke, you hummed as he told the story. but it all sounded quite familiar to you. and as he continued, you realized what it was. it was your story.
you were fifteen when you met draken. the heir to the throne and wandering helplessly after the death of your father. he had been making more arrows for his training and you were just hoping to clear your thoughts.
your cloak trailed behind you, hood pulled over your head when you heard the sound of a stick snap and then a string of curses to follow. your eyes darted around until they settled on the source of the sound. he looked to be your age, with his blonde hair pulled back into a braid and black ink marking his head.
his head snapped up when you started to near him and you paused, pulling your hood back and sending him a tentative wave. his face showed no sign of emotion but he did wave you over.
draken knew who you were. he was the son of the huntsman after all and his father tended to work directly under the queen as of recently. this meant he was constantly in the palace. constantly around you, though it seemed you did not recognize him as he did you.
âhello,â your voice was soft, he noticed. and when he looked back at you again you were wearing a soft smile.
âyour highness,â he spoke formally, placing his work next to him, as he bowed his head.
you chuckled and waved your hand in the air. âno need for formalities.â you told him your name and he nodded.
âwell, your highn-â he paused and corrected himself with your name before continuing, âwhat brings you to the forest. it can be very dangerous for such royalty to be walking out on their own.â his observation of you made you shrink in on yourself slightly. you were still grieving and you did not have many people to talk to.
your stepmother had secluded herself from everything other than her duties. and there was no one around your age within the castle. oh how you wished you had been blessed with a sibling, but you also knew that you would not wish this grief upon anyone else. âi typically come out here to⊠think,â you settled on, kneeling to pick at the flowers.
draken nodded, knowing that you were still probably in the process of grieving your now late father. he was not one to pry and so he stayed there with you for a while. you plucking the small flowers, though he was sure they were some sort of weeds. and him working on his arrows for the training he had with his father the next day.
â
a year had passed since then and you considered draken a friend. whenever he was in the palace he always nodded your way and you waved. you would have lunch together and often go out to the forest. but the time for your eighteenth birthday celebration was approaching and so that was the topic that came up the most during the week before the events that had your life spiraling.
âhow did your dress fitting go?â draken questions while the two of you walk around the forest looking for berries. draken was looking for poisonous ones to dip his arrows in, while you were looking for ones to aid in the makeup for your birthday celebration.
you smile over at him, delighted by the fact that he remembered. but draken was also just like that. he remembered the smallest of details and over the last year of knowing him it still made you smile. âit went well. i think itâs going to be stunning. my stepmother chose a brilliant red,â youâre stuck in your thoughts of the dress when youâre suddenly stopped by the man in front of you.
well rather you run into his back. âdraken?â you question, but pause when you see heâs only stopped to pick more berries. the day goes on like that until he walks you back to the palace. you always had told him he didnât have to and he would always insist that royalty such as yourself should not be out alone at such late hours.
after bidding your goodbyes you are not surprised to see your maid of honor, clara, waiting for you. though she seems to be looking closely at herself in the mirror. upon further inspection, you see sheâs holding up earrings. your stepmotherâs earrings to be exact. the ones that she promised to gift you for your birthday.
âclara?â you question and she snaps around to look at you. the look that graces her features is nothing short of shocked. you raise your eyebrows in suspicion but continue to stare at her wide-eyed.
âoh, uh, your highness,â she mutters, tucking the earrings behind her back. she must have taken you for a fool, standing in front of your mirror it was easy enough for you to see them in her hand. you continued to watch as she tucked them into the band of her apron. âhow was your day with the huntsmanâs son?â she questioned, putting on a normal demeanor.
her shift in demeanor seemed to throw you off, something that clara noticed, so she started to run your bath. âit was good. we picked some berries, mine were not for poisoning people, as drakenâs were for his training. and we spent the rest of the time talking about the ball. iâm still trying to convince him to come, you know,â you spoke as you put your things down around the room. the berries were perfect and as you put them down in front of your mirror you couldnât shake the thought that something was wrong with the way that clara was acting.
âyou seem to be very close to that boy,â clara voiced knowingly, a small smile gracing her features as she walked behind you to brush your hair.
you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away from her gaze in the mirror. âi donât know what youâre implying claraâŠâ you trailed off, knowing that even though she was acting oddly, clara was a friend as well. you couldnât hide the fact that you felt something for the boy that you had grown close to in the last year.
her giggles filled the room and you buried your face into your hands, a small laugh leaving your lips as well. âiâm sure it wonât take much convincing from the great toute-belle. especially when you two spend so much time together,â her gaze meets yours again in the mirror and the two of you bust into a fit of giggles.
the night continues to go that way, but you canât shake the feeling that something is going on. and so you decide to ask your friend. âclara?â
she looks up from the berries that sheâs crushing for your makeup to use for tomorrow. âwhat is it?â
you avoid her eyes when you ask your next question, âwhat were you doing with my stepmotherâs earrings before i got here?â when you sneak another glance, her face has paled.
âyou musnât tell her. please, toute-belle, sheâll have my head if she knew,â you only continue to stare at her, a look of utter confusion left on your face. why would your stepmother have her head, if she was putting them away or even just looking how they looked for a moment. you were sure your stepmother would understand a young girl just wanting to have a bit of fun. clara continues as you ponder what it is sheâs talking about. âi stole those earrings from the queen. i do not have the funds to be able to support my family and the kingdom is not well. the taxes have risen to be able to fund the queenâs spending,â she explains, and your heart immediately saddens for the friend who has tended to you for so long.
you decide to just agree with her for now, though the thoughts of her stealing plague your mind long after she has left for the night.
-
the day before your birthday you were out with draken once again. the conversation you had with clara was still sitting heavily on your mind and apparently, that was showing. you heard draken call your name and you looked to your right, where he was standing crossing his arms. the look on his face was nothing short of impatient. âiâve been talking about rabbits for the past 10 minutes and you didnât even realize,â he deadpans. âwhatâs on your mind highness?â
you sigh and notice that youâre by the well that you often came to with clara to retrieve water for your baths. âwell itâs clara. sheâŠâ you hesitate and draken can sense the unease pouring from your tired mind. âsheâs been stealing from my stepmother and i donât know what to do. she claims that it is because she can no longer support her family with the taxes rising, and so i feel obligated to say nothing. but stealing is wrong, is it not?â you looked back at draken once again, to see his expression had softened.
he laid a hand on your shoulder, often one of his small forms of affection, and shook his head. âdo you think that telling your stepmother might aid in clara being able to gain more compensation perhaps? she has been your maid of honor since you were both very young.â his conclusion seems to magically lift the weight off of your shoulders.
âof course!â you exclaimed, âif i talk to my stepmother about the situation, maybe sheâll be able to extend a little more to clara and her family. that could work! draken i thank you, i donât know what i would do without you.â you hold his hands in yours excitedly and beam up at him to which you notice the tips of his ears tinting pink.
however, what you have not noticed, is clara fuming at the beginning of the path. she holds a water bucket and can only think that you are going to expose her deepest secrets to your stepmother and get her thrown out of her position. how could you?
to do this only because some boy you met suggested it? how long had she been there for you? how long had she been the one to comfort you after the passing of your father? it wasnât fair to her. so she decided to take matters into her own hands.
abandoning the water pail, she set off back towards the palace. up the stairs, through the corridors, until she finally reached the throne room. she entered graciously and was announced to the queen. upon entering she could feel the icy stare of the queen and lightly shook her head. guilt was starting to eat at her, but clara needed to do what had to be done to protect her family.
âyour highness, i have something of confidence to tell you,â clara stated, eyeing the knight that stood to the queenâs right. the queen only nodded, and clara was relieved that she trusted her so heavily.
âwhat is it child?â the queen questioned, staring at her with cold eyes.
clara hesitated before she had finally made up her mind. she had to tell the queen that it was you that had been stealing from her. âwell as you know, i am toute-belleâs maid of honor, but as i was aiding the others in tidying up their vanity i noticed something and i wish to bring these back you. because i know for certain these do not belong to your stepchild.â with that clara withdrawals the earrings from her pocket that she stole herself, presenting them to the queen.
in an instant, the queen has risen from her throne and her look has turned from an icy glare to a furious gaze. âso you are saying that toute-belle has been stealing from me? their own family?â with each syllable her voice continued to raise in volume and it took every ounce of willpower for clara to not flinch away from the queen.
the young girl gulped and then nodded. âi do not know if this is all they have taken from you, but this is what i have found,â her voice was timid as she spoke, and she placed the earrings into the hand of the queen.
the queen only nodded and sent clara away, saying that she had some thinking to do. and clara, though she felt a small weight lifted from her shoulders, also felt as if she had made the biggest mistake in the world.
-
âwhat happened next papa???â emiko exclaimed, totally enthralled by the story. he did not know that this was the story that had brought you and his father together, nor did he know that he was a prince. nonetheless, he wanted to know more.
âwell, i think we should continue the story tomorrow at breakfast, little ones. your bubba is getting tired,â ken spoke, referring to you, as you were in and out of sleep in his arms.
âbubba pleaseeee. canât we just hear a little more,â kazumi whined, sitting up to shake your hand.
you laughed and then let out a small yawn. âitâs time for bed you two. weâll continue this in the morning, you know your uncle manjiro will be here. what if he wants to hear the story too?â
that seemed enough for both of your children as they sighed and said their good nights to you and your husband. the both of you walked to your shared room and settled in for bed, facing each other.
âdo you think we should tell them?â you whispered, tracing patterns on kenâs arm as you let out another yawn.
you felt the bed shift as he shrugged. âwhat difference would it make now? that isnât our life, we have made something new for ourselves here. weâre a world away now,â he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you only nodded back, drifting off until the morning.
the morning seemed to come all too soon and you groaned as light peeked through the windows. but the smell of something sweet drifted to you from the kitchen as well. but that was odd because when you turned over in bed draken was still right next to you. âken,â you mumbled, shaking his shoulder. âken, mikey is cooking in our kitchen right now,â your voice was now at a normal tone and he shot up in bed immediately at your statement.
âi regret ever giving him a key to our house,â he groaned, making his way out of your shared room. you followed shortly after, seeing your children already around the table and babbling away at their uncle. ..well, more so cheering on your husband while he decided to reem mikey for breaking into your home.
âpapa, you canât kill uncle manjiro because he has to hear the rest of the story,â emiko groaned out, leaning up on his knees over the table to try and gain his fatherâs attention. mikeyâs attention perked up at this, looking over to you.
âand what story would this be little ones?â he questioned, but you could tell he had an inkling of a feeling as you were finally telling your kids the story of your life.
âthe story of toute-belle! papa was telling it to us last night and then bubba got too tired, so we had to wait until you got here and then and then,â kazumi began to ramble about how much she was enjoying the story so far and you couldnât help but laugh at her antics. taking your place at the table, and accepting the drink that ken had made you, you calmed your daughter down a little.
ânow now zumi, donât you want papa to continue the story while uncle manjiro finishes up breakfast?â you question her while smoothing down her hair. she nods, finally finishing her adorable little rambles, and looks wide-eyed at draken.
âalright,â he began, âwhere were weâŠâ
-
soon after the queen found clara in your quarters right before sundown. it was rare for her to seek clara out, and even more so to be found outside of what seemed to be her designated side of the castle. âi have spoken to my advisor.â with that statement alone clara shuddered. she knew that the queenâs advisor was a fairy who she often spoke to about how to take care of âspecial mattersâ. âthey have advised me to have you push toute-belle into the well to take care of their breaches in our law. they have also told me that toute-belle has surpassed my beauty and therefore, this will kill two birds with one stone if you will.â as she concluded her statement, the queen looked over to clara. she only nodded to her once, before turning back to make sure that the girl did the same back.
it did not take much more time for you to return and for clara to come up with a plan. âah your highness!â she exclaimed at your arrival to which you smiled kindly at her. you had decided with draken that you would not tell clara, as to try and take matters into your own hands first. if your stepmother did not wish to hear your suggestions, you would just dip into the allowance that was allotted to you to provide clara with a substantial amount to provide for herself and her family.
âhow was your day clara?â you asked her as the both of you walked back out the door that you had come from. you both had decided earlier that you were to go together to get the water for your bath. you wanted just a moment for the two of you to be together before the following dayâs events.
she filled you in on what she did that day, and you filled her in on your day with draken. the both of you, of course, omitting the conversations you had with draken and your stepmother. when you finally got to the point of the well, clara handed you the pail to collect the first bit of water. you had brought a bucket with you as well, but clara had insisted on carrying it for you. but as soon as you started to lower the pail, you felt yourself falling forward. a small cream escaped passed your lips before you landed on something a lot softer than you had anticipated the bottom of a well to feel like.
instead of it being cold and wet, it was warm and dry. your eyes had been glued shut due to your falling for the short time it had taken you to reach the bottom. though when you looked up it did seem as if you had fallen quite a ways. however, when you finally decided to see what you had landed on, it seemed to be⊠a dragon?
there was no way. dragons had not been seen in the kingdom for hundreds of years. it was believed that they were extinct. you had only ever seen them in picture books and heard of them in stories. but this was undoubtedly one of those that had been described to you.
the dragon seemed to be looking at you, though it didnât say a word. it just began to walk back to where it came from. which was also surprising to you, because there shouldnât be anything under the well. let alone a place for a dragon to live.
you continued to observe your surroundings as the dragon continued its way down what seemed to be a lit corridor. when would something like this have gotten into the well? and why wouldnât you have known about it?
âexcuse me?â you questioned. and the eyes of the dragon peered back up to you. thought you did not see its mouth move, you heard its voice call back to you.
âyes?â its voice was deep and gravely and because it was inside your head, shook you up a bit. but you remained calm on your exterior, so as not to disturb the being who had saved you.
âwhere exactly are we going?â you inquired once again, settling into your spot on its back. you figured because you couldnât get back up into the world that you knew, that maybe you could explore this one before returning home.
âto see my brothers. they will help to take care of you, as we know of the toute-belle of the land. we never thought that we would be graced with your presence, so they will be honored to have you as our guest. as am i,â you were touched by the words of the dragon you rode on and for the next weeks began to become accustomed to him and his brother's way of living.
you aided them in collecting food and collecting water to clean their scales. you aided in many things around their home and in turn, they told you tales of your home as well. when they did not have to stay in hiding and when they were friends with your father. during your short time away from the palace, you learned that though nobody had claimed to have seen dragons for hundreds of years, that was the doing of your stepmother.
when your father was alive, and when you were younger, the dragons used to be great friends. they were aids to him and in turn to you. they knew you when you were young but after your fatherâs passing, your stepmother decided that they were unworthy of taking care of your kingdom. according to your stepmotherâs advisor.
you couldnât believe this, how could she exile such kind beings? you decided after a few weeks of being within the confines of the well that it was time to make your way back home. you stood at the bottom of the well looking up and called for clara. continually you called for her and draken but nobody came.
unbeknownst to you, draken had been sent away by the queen for she knew that he would search for you. he and his father were sent to protect a new kingdom on such short notice, that draken didnât even get the chance to say goodbye. or so he thought. he did not know of your whereabouts but he had written you many letters during your one week apart.
your birthday ball had been canceled due to your stepmother telling the kingdom that you had fallen ill. nobody was allowed within your quarters, except for clara to âtake care of youâ.
but nobody could hear your cries for help, except for the advisor of the queen. âyour majesty i come to you with dire news,â they breathed out in a hushed voice. they had been venturing by the forest to collect items for the upcoming task they needed to perform for the queen and had heard your calls for help. upon hearing you they were unsure if telling the queen was the right idea because you were toute-belle after all. how could one ever want to get rid of someone so beautiful and kind? but alas, they were also supposed to be trusted by such a woman and did not want to have her mistrust them.
the fairy paused, waiting in front of the queen whose hateful energy seemed to seep out of her. she was furious. she had one of her handmaids send for clara at once. while they waited the queen finally spoke to the fairy. âwhat of those poisonous walnuts you spoke of? do you still have them?â the queen questioned and the fairy stilled.
when they had brought up the prospect of such things, it was to poison another diplomat from a rivaling nation. this would have given the kingdom an upper hand in trade and continued to stimulate the economic success that the queen had been providing. unfortunately, the fairy did not return on time from their venture to poison the diplomat.
but they did have them now and the queen demanded that they be given to clara to give to you. and so that was what she did.
clara felt as if the walk to the well was a treacherous journey. she hadnât had to think about the guilt that had begun to eat at her when she initially pushed you into the well. at least not when she got to lounge in your room and pretend to live a life of luxury. clara was finally able to provide for her family with the extra compensation that the queen provided her. but apparently, you were not easily killed, and that made claraâs, and her familyâs life, harder.
when she finally arrived at the well she heard your cries and almost flinched away from the sound. your voice was as sweet as ever, if not slightly distraught. âclara? draken? anyone? please i need to go home now,â your cries for help drifted up the well and pierced right through clara and into her guilt-ridden heart. she swallowed around the guilt building up in her throat and then leaned over to plaster on a timid smile to you.
âyour highness!â she called down. to you her voice sounded strained but you supposed it could have been the distance between you both.
âoh clara! i need to get out of here. i cannot believe that i could have fallen. but i also wonder why my stepmother hasnât sent for me yet?â you called up to her and clara began to let the continuous stream of lies spew from her mouth.
âshe is doing everything she can toute-belle. her advisor is going to break the curse that keeps beings down in the well so that you may be able to come home. but in the meantime, she sends you these,â with her final statement clara drops down a small drawstring bag that falls softly into your hands.
âthese are walnuts that contain the magic blessing of the fairy that advises your stepmother. they made sure to have them given to you to save you from any creatures that may be prowling down there.â
you shake your head but open the bag to reveal the walnuts. there were no other creatures down in the well other than the dragons and yourself. you knew that your stepmother was up to something, but the fairy had never done anything to harm you.
your eyes travel back up the walls of the well and finally land on clara once more. âi hope to see you soon then my friend. i cannot wait to hear about all you have done in the week of my absence.â your words are short and you turn on your heel abruptly to go back to the home of your newfound friends.
after claraâs visit, her words sit heavy on your mind as you eat dinner with the dragons. they ask you if you had any luck with trying to go home, as they knew of the curse as well. how could they not? it was what had trapped them there for what seemed like eons. you tell them that you have no answers even after claraâs visit and they ask you if you are ready to prepare for dinner. you nod politely to them and continue to talk about other things that donât surround the curse. this curse is something that you all talk about whenever you receive a visit from someone who comes to the well. which hasnât been often.
while youâre preparing the dinner, you retrieve the walnuts from your pocket that had been gifted to you. what harm could a snack before dinner have? but as you bring one up to your mouth, the tail of one of your companions knocks it away. âyour highness!â the voice booms, as all eyes have now laid themselves upon you.
âwhat? i can share if youâd all likeâŠâ you trail off when you hear the chuckles of the dragons around you.
âit is not that your highness. those walnuts have been spelled. if you were to eat them you would die,â he concludes, his eyes never wavering from you. youâre the first to look away, marching over to the fire. you toss the bag into the fire near the entrance to the beach. staring out at the waves, you sigh and continue back to preparing dinner.
-
âwhy would someone want to poison toute-belle?!â your daughter exclaims and mikey chuckles. your children's eyes dart over to their uncle and then back to their father.
âitâs because the queen was jealous of toute-belle and that clara was also jealous. both for different reasons, but still jealous kiddos.â mikeyâs answer is definitive, and though both of your kids are curious they hold their tongues, looking back to draken to finish the story.
âletâs clean this all up before we keep going. we can move to the common area, okay?â draken says, while grabbing a couple of the plates off of your dining table.
âwhatâs the fun in that, papa?â mikey jokes, using drakenâs name from your kids. you roll your eyes, taking to the kitchen while mikey decides to continue the story.
-
the following day, clara was called to the throne room once again. this time it was only the fairy that was there and the queen was nowhere to be seen. âclara,â she spoke quietly, her voice just above a whisper. âi believe that the toute-belle did not eat the walnuts. the dragons in the wells are too clever to not have sensed the poison that was within them.â claraâs face darkened at the news. âbut i think i have a solution that would ensure that we would not have to kill someone that you may have once called your friend.â the fairy continued, her voice piercing claraâs heart.
she knew that what she had been doing was wrong, no matter if it aided her family. but what else was she supposed to do in a situation like this? shaking her head, clara was making her way back to the well. this time with the dress that you were supposed to have worn for your birthday ball. âtoute-belle!â she called out once more, though with more conviction. for this time clara knew that you would not die. you would only fall to sleep once you put on the cursed dress. something that your companions would not sense.
you appeared soon after her calling began for you and you waved up at her, smiling brightly as you always had. you had no resentment toward clara and knew that she was only doing what she was being told in fear of her family. though clara hesitated when she saw you, holding the dress close to her, thinking that maybe she should just turn around now.
âhas the queen sent you with news?â you questioned, voice strained and garbled against the stone of the well. and with that inquiry clara steeled herself. this would be the one good thing that she could do for you.
âshe has no news yet toute-belle, but i have brought you a gift,â as carefully she could, clara dropped the dress down the well, as long as a small group of envelopes bound by rope. âthis is your dress, the one that you were supposed to wear for the ball. i know it is not very practical, but itâs at least something to remind you of homeâŠâ clara pauses, hesitant to bring up the idea of draken, knowing how much you cared for him. âthe other items are letters from draken. he has written to you every week since he left.â and then she is gone.
you are shocked, not just by claraâs sudden departure but by the fact that draken has left and you hadnât even known he had gone. you venture back the way you came to the well opening, into your newfound home. the dragons seem to perk up at your arrival again, but sense that there is something wrong. âtoute-belle, what is the matter?â one questions, their tail brushing your hair back. you smile, knowing that they hold nothing but love for you.
âclara, she has brought me some items from home. to feel a little closer. and it was my birthday recently so i think that she brought these as a present,â you explained to them about the ball that you were supposed to have, and that this would have been the dress you would have worn. you tell them of the people who would have attended, but you had never spoken so highly of anyone other than your father. but draken was a close second and the dragons noticed this with a knowing glint behind their eyes.
âwhy donât you try on your dress toute-belle? if not to just feel a little closer to the moment when you would get to dance with your friend draken,â the knowing tone of their voices caused heat to rise to your cheeks but you eagerly nodded anyway.
you took to the shores of the beach, as it was abandoned and also affected by the curse that the queen had put upon the dragons. so changing there was safe, but as soon as you slipped the dress over yourself, you felt increasingly tired. you barely made it a few steps before collapsing. and that was where they found you, the dragons that is. they found you at the mouth of the opening leading to the beach.
at first, they were shocked. how could something so terrible happen to someone so beautiful and kind, as you, toute-belle? but then they wept. the dragons wept and spent days creating a beautiful place for you to rest. somewhere just as beautiful as you. they placed your body in a glass encasement so that they would be able to see and talk to you when they missed you a little extra. you were surrounded by your favorite flowers, which took them forever to find. and the letters addressed to you from draken were cradled under your hands, as they laid you to rest.
another week or so seemed to pass before, the tides started to rise. the dragons never thought that they would raise so high as to take you away from them, but they did. and as you floated away, the less the dragons could see you, the more likely it seemed to be that you had sunk into the ocean. like their dreams of being reunited with the surface world and getting to see you reunited with your people.
another week passed before your encasement reached life again. though life isnât what one could necessarily call it. more like a rocky landscape, that could considered as a shore. the shore to the kingdom across the sea, which was ruled by the sano. it was the youngest son of the family who found you. he went by the name of mikey at the time. he knew that if anyone else found you, they would cause chaos around the thought of a young woman in what seemed to be a glass coffin. so he hoisted you out and took you to the one place he knew you would be safe. the huntsmanâs chambers.
he made sure you had all of your belongings with you and banged on the door as soon as he reached his destination. âcome on drakenâŠâ he mumbled to himself, banging once again on the door. it flew open moments later and before draken uttered a word he grew pale and rushed mikey inside.
âwhere did you find her?â he breathed out as mikey laid you on drakenâs bed. draken couldnât believe that you were here in front of him after all this time. it had only been a month, maybe two, since your eighteenth birthday. but the two of you had grown so close in that time, that he knew that maybe, just maybe he had been in love. that love just didnât go away when he was forced to leave with his father.
âon the shore. she was basically in a coffin made out of glass draken. iâm going to get emma, she can change her into something more comfortable so that when she wakes up her clothes arenât wet. sheâs probably freezing and we canât have the love of your life getting sick now can we?â mikeyâs voice was teasing, draken being a close friend since they had met years prior. all draken could do was nod, trying his best not to disturb you. when he didnât look away from you mikey just sighed, and draken heard the door shut behind him. how could this have happened to you? who could have done something like this to you? but his answer was already in the back of his mind. his father had warned him early on of the intentions of the queen.
it only seemed like seconds before emma was shoving him out of the room so that she could change you out of the dress that you were in and into the clothes that she had brought. mikey was right about one thing, you were as cold as a corpse. but as soon as you were changed, it seemed that you were brought back to life. you shot forward, almost knocking your head against emmaâs, and searching around the room rapidly. âdraken!â the girl before you called out and your head shot to the door that slammed against the wall. your best friend was standing right there, and you couldnât seem to move from your spot.
before you even had the chance he was engulfing you in a hug. âtoute-belle,â he mumbled and the sano siblings shared a worried glance. they hadnât known that the one that draken had been telling them about over the short period that he had been with them was the toute-belle. over the course of the next couple of days, you told them everything. you stayed in drakenâs room with emma while he and mikey went to attend to duties and in the evening you continued to tell them your story.
shortly after the queen was overthrown, but you decided it was best to leave the people in the hands of your fatherâs head of council. or more so, his son mitsuya. he knew of what happened to you due to his and mikeyâs friendship. he kept your whereabouts a secret, but got the curse lifted off of the dragons with the help of the queenâs fairy who said that she was forever in debt to you due to how she felt about the treatment and misdoings of the queen. from then on you served within the sano court until about five years later when you and draken decided to get married.
-
âand so the toute-belle and the huntsman got married after finally being able to be together and start a little royal family of their own. but they did so in the peace and quiet of a small town within the ruling of the sano family. and they lived happily ever after.â with a small pause draken took a sip of his tea and smiled at your children who were so entranced by the tale that they didnât seem to know the story had ended. mikey grinned from ear to ear, swooping emiko up, and began to run around the house, causing your youngest to follow right after them.
you leaned into your husbandâs side, a soft smile gracing your features as you admired the ones you loved. âdo you think that one day we should tell them that theyâre royalty?â you posed the question a little differently this time, to see what he would say.
ken laughed at this and shook his head. âdo you think that one day we should tell them they are the children of the huntsman from their fairytales?â he questioned back, placing a kiss on your hairline. âi think that when the time is right, that they will find their own paths just like you were able to toute-belle.â and you laughed at the name, something that reminded you of where you had first met the man in front of you.
âwell at least my path led me to you,â you snuggled a little closer to him and he held you just a bit tighter. because with all of the trials that you two had faced to get here, you had found a family that would always love you for you and not just toute-belle. and that was all that you needed.
Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.
Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3
wk: 16.7k
Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows
"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing.Â
Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth.Â
The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'
The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen.Â
So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!"Â
"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.
Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole hereâŠ"
But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.
"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean.Â
Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together. Â
You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up.Â
Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.
"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough."Â
When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully.Â
Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,â you announced, âplease text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."
Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.
Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him.Â
With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soupâŠor what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now.Â
"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"
With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting."Â
You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them."Â
"I can't hit my group matesâŠeven if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.
"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so.Â
This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far.Â
Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it.Â
When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily.Â
There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do.Â
"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars."Â
You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too."Â
At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"
"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips."Â
"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.
You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!"Â
"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any."Â
The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.
You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade.Â
Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told.Â
This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong.Â
Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need.Â
You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia.Â
That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phoneâs note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean.Â
Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadnât really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that youâd end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?
Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room.Â
You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions.Â
"She was drinking with Connie at his place,"Â
"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' thenâŠand then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile.Â
You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.
"Yeah, he and Jean bothâŠ" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed, Marco pulled her shoes off for her.Â
At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her.Â
"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.
As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.
Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving.Â
A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number.Â
"Heyy, it's me"
"Jean"
"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"
"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren"Â
You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, âWow really? I couldnât tell.â
Another buzz, another incoming message, âI really hate that guy. Heâs stuck up, and always thinks heâs rightâ
âYou know, I feel like thereâs someone else like that too.â You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didnât mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.
A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, âyou better not be implying that im like himâ
âI would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyesâ
âJust okay? Iâm fuckinâ great!â
âYeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%â
You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, âI dont know if I believe that.â
âI dont care if you believe it or not tbhâ
âI cant tell if you like me or notâ
At this, you paused. You didnât really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldnât be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didnât want to outright say that you didnât like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.
âim not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.âÂ
âThats a good thing right?â
You didnât answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet.Â
You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you.Â
"Thanks man, you're the best."Â
"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards,"Â
You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."
"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.
"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen."Â
Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!"Â
The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up.Â
The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean.Â
Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning.Â
Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before.Â
You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving. Â
Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention. Â
There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole messâŠyou were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too.Â
However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy.Â
You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way.Â
"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.
"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went.Â
"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?"Â
"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing meâŠ"Â
You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!"Â
At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time."Â
"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is."Â
With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work.Â
Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze.Â
Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really.Â
And maybe if he hadnât spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.
Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.
At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others.Â
"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off.Â
For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head.Â
"Is there something you need orâŠ?"Â
"You're seriously going to stay and work more?"Â
"...Yeah?"Â
Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off.Â
"What are youâŠWhyâŠI mean-what?"Â
"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work."Â
You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying.Â
Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned.Â
The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.
Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.
For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you.Â
"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you.Â
"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted.Â
"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out.Â
"Not true,â you said. âSasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot,"Â
At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people."Â
"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends.Â
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."
You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record"Â
"Ouch, that kind of stings."Â
You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either. Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked.Â
Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm.Â
It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you.Â
You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience.Â
"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you.Â
From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was.Â
Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple.Â
"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said.Â
"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet.Â
Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?"Â
"Iâm waiting,"Â
"For what?"Â
"The first star I see"Â
Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?"Â
"No."Â
It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it.Â
His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there."Â
From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didnât notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment.Â
"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet.Â
The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening.Â
With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.
The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.
"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha.Â
And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!"Â
You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind.Â
"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed."Â
She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?"Â
You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands.Â
The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else.Â
At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie.Â
For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean.Â
No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head.Â
It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening.Â
"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it.Â
The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are."Â
At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you.Â
"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you.Â
More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,â he sneered. âAnd besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot."Â
You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch.Â
You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.
"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.
None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off.Â
And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you.Â
When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air.Â
"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.
Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away."Â
All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up.Â
From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content.Â
Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming."Â
You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see thatâŠI honestly didn't know that I was going to hit himâŠuntil right after."Â
"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him.Â
"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.
"Sasha! I don't start fights!"Â
Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight. Â
It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sortsâwhich, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better.Â
âHey, should we go back for our things?â Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.
âYeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.â Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.
You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. âOh yeah, youâd be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.âÂ
Connieâs mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after todayâs events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.
Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone.Â
âMarco! You made it!â Connie shouted out, drawing your friendâs attention. âYou missed all the action; it was insane!â
âHuh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?âÂ
As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question.Â
âYou only missed a little of our game-â
âWe had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!â
âWeâve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!â
Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. âYou punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!â
A small and almost shy smile escaped you, âWell, to be fair he started it. I honestly didnât even think about doing it; my hand moved on itâs own,â
He only shook his head, looking back around the group. âSo, are we still playing?â
Jean shook his head. âMaybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?â
âOh! Iâve got some fun games!â Sasha chimed in, then paused. âBut Iâm kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!â
Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasnât exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen.Â
You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didnât take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you.Â
âOkay, listen up, Iâm not explaining this twice,â Connie announced. âThe game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If itâs heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If itâs tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.â Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.
The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connieâs name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco.Â
âIt asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,â Marco explained.
âWhat? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!âÂ
âHah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,â Jean remarked âAnd not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?â
Connie grumbled a bit, but didnât try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn.Â
From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: âOut of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?â
You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldnât really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jeanâs name, looking anywhere but at his face.Â
âThat took you some time; must be a good card.â Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.
Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely.Â
A chorus of oooâs and ahhâs filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer.Â
The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: âI hope you plan to take me out first, Iâm not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you.Â
âWhatever, justâŠwhoever is next, take your turn.â You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold.Â
Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet.Â
Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldnât argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just werenât sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didnât even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable.Â
And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.
Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldnât-no /wouldnât/ deal with something like that again.Â
You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein.Â
âSuffocating yourself?âÂ
You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times.Â
âUhâŠno, not quite what Iâm going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,â you joked.
He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. âThen whatâs with the face-in-pillow tactic?â
You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. âOh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thingâŠâ
His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. âYeah, for once I donât buy that, but if you donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you to spill the details."
Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldnât hurt to tell him, since he wouldnât ever tell a secret that wasnât his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly.Â
âOkayâŠWellâŠthat card I got earlier,â you began. âIâm just worried, and I know that itâs just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.â
âWorried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that youâd actually want to kiss him?â
Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his.Â
âWould saying both make sense?â
He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. âWell, Iâm sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.â Another pause. âAs for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldnât say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that itâs Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you couldâŠtest it out?"
âTest it out?â you repeated, confused.
âYeah,â he said, nodding. âLike ask him to hang out or something. You donât have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if itâs just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.â
You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasnât like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.
âYouâre right, Iâll definitely try that.â You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. âThanks, Iâm glad youâre here.â
âWhat would you do without me? And donât worryâ I wonât say anything to anyone. my lips are sealedâ He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.
âOkay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldnât recommend telling a soul.âÂ
He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didnât wake up once.
The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasnât super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace.Â
Though, it didnât last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin.Â
âI hope you donât mind us joining you!â Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didnât pick your table without a reason.Â
âUh, no thatâs okay.âÂ
He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers.Â
For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action.Â
He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. âSo, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so iâm thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesnât want to admit it.âÂ
You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, âIâm not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.â
Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasnât his stare that bothered you. You now had Arminâs attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, âWell, Iâm not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?âÂ
You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you werenât upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something youâd stay okay with.
âWell heâs been bitching about it all day. Itâs starting to get on my nerves.â Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did.Â
âDoes he expect you to do something about it?â You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.
âIâm sure thats what he wants, but Iâm not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.â
A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasnât due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it.Â
This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you werenât the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you werenât sure when it was due for him, but it wouldnât be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.
You werenât all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you werenât the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.
Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most peopleâs attention.Â
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.
âHey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.â
At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean.Â
âWhere are you?â you replied.
After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.
âCome and find me.âÂ
And that was it. He didnât send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.
âI think Iâm going to head out. Letâs meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hangeâs assignment.â
Armin glanced up, and smiled, âOkay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all Iâve finished!â
âSounds good.â You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction.Â
There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the libraryâs computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh.Â
With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome.Â
You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you werenât able to get a word out before he could make fun of you.Â
âYou looked really dumb running around trying to find me.â
You gave an astonished laugh, âYeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.â
âAnd you still came to find me. Iâm starting to think you like me more than you let on.âÂ
The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you werenât surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. âIn your dreams.â You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you.Â
âHm, I guess thatâs true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?â He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.
You didnât say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. âTo answer your question about who I was with, I actually didnât plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.â
He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, âDo you think I could spit on Eren from here?â
âNo, and I dont think you should even try.âÂ
âBuzzkill.â
You scoffed, âI am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.â
Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. âI just donât get what everyone sees in that guy. Heâs clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.â
âDo you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?â
âDonât lump me in with him.â This he said more seriously, âAnyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?â
âLike what?â
He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldnât tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic.Â
âHey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, itâs about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?â
He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. âOkay, it doesnât sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.â
âWould eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?â
âFriday works better for me, I think Iâve got plans with Connie on Satuday.âÂ
âOkay, Friday it is.â You paused, a smile slowly making itâs way onto your face, âJust make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.â
âHey! I already apologized for that.â He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.
You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, âI need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.â
âI am not going to be hungover again. Iâm not going to make you wait, I swear.â
âYou better not, I wonât be as forgiving this time.â You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do.Â
He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, âYou were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,â Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, âWait, where are we even going?â
You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. âWell, Iâve done nothing but school work today, and you didnât mention anything specific other than âgo do somethingâ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.â
âAre you going to tell me where we are heading at least?â
âNo.â You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.
He was pretty tall, and when he wasnât smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didnât know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadnât noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness. And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.
You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy.Â
Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head.Â
Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing.Â
As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot,"Â
You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."
He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer,"Â
"Closer to hiding your body?"
"Not quite what I was thinkingâŠ" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."
As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents.Â
"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree."Â
"And yet you brought me hereâŠI'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree.Â
In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree.Â
After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.
You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you.Â
"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"
"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him.Â
Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind.Â
You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at.Â
"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.
He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person."Â
You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again?Â
"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here."Â
"You hate it here that much?"Â
You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone.Â
You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm justâŠprojecting something else onto it."Â
Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next."Â
He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding.Â
It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face.Â
"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all."Â
He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."
You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet.Â
"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."
"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."
"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.
"You dont think I'm charming?"Â
The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest.Â
"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."
At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at."Â
"You missed the word horrible,"Â
He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes."Â
You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you."Â
"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've gotâŠbox mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken."Â
You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go."Â
You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you.Â
"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you.Â
"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.
"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant."Â
"Again, you left out the horrible part."Â
"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school.Â
You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing."Â
Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you."Â
You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk.Â
What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadnât even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean.Â
As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.
âHey, if you really donât want to try my cooking, you donât have to come.â He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment.Â
You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again.Â
The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone.Â
You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer.Â
You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasnât even set in stone.Â
You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, âNo way, you said it was a five star dinner. I canât pass on that.â
He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, âOkay good, I wasnât sure what to do if you bailed on me.â
âMaybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.â You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove.Â
âWhy would you say that! I canât have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!âÂ
âSure you can! Itâs easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!âÂ
Jean groaned and shook his head. âYouâre horrible.â
âPleasant, actually.â You grinned.Â
He hummed in response, and you couldâve swore you heard him mumble âhorribly pleasant my assâ
His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms.Â
One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasnât until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror.Â
âWell if it isnât our very own Rocky!â He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats.Â
âHey Connieâ you waved, then smirked a little, âI'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.âÂ
His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, âFor your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-â
Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, âLike you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.âÂ
Connie gaped, âDude, thatâs just cold. I thought you liked my face.âÂ
You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, âromantic dinnerâÂ
Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, âand here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.âÂ
Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment.Â
âOnly if it involves candles and music.â You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you werenât sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly.Â
His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, âMight need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.â Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, âUnless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.â He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self.Â
You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, âNo candles, no deal.â You pause, practically feeling Connieâs wide eyed stare pointed at your back.Â
âThatâs not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?â Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasnât wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm.Â
You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, âSure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.âÂ
After a moment of silence, Connieâs voice fills the room. âYeah so, I donât really know whats going on here, but iâm gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.â He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, âSee ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.â
To which, all Jean says is, âYeah, whatever man.â
You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasnât noticed your stares yet, not when heâs busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves.Â
Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic.Â
âDo you need help with anything?â You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around.Â
Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. âDo you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?âÂ
You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, âWhere do you keep your pots and pans?â
âPlanning on making this a fancy dinner?â He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. âAre you steaming them?â
You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, âWould you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?â
Jean smiled sheepishly, âIâve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, youâll have to get creative. But youâre pretty smart, so I believe in you.â
You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. Youâd have to figure something else.Â
The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli.Â
âOkay, so Iâll bite. Whatâs your deal?â Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, âI mean! UhâŠWell-â
You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, âDo you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?â
He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, âI meant it a little nicer though.â
âIts okay, I got what you meantâŠI think.â You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate.Â
Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, âItâs just thatâŠyou spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. Iâve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. ButâŠâ
âBut?â
âThey worry about you. Sasha and Marco that isâŠand well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.â
You donât respond. Heâs going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.
âI think that even just in the past few days, youâve opened up a lotâŠI finally got to see you smile.â He paused, âI remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe youâd smile.â
âI remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.â You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.
âSoâŠI guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?â He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when heâs focusing on his work. Youâve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.
With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, âIâve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, Iâve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the questionâŠâ You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud.Â
âBut?â He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now.Â
âBut nothing. I meant what I said. Iâm getting out of this hell and Iâm not looking back. Ever.â you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards.Â
You moved to stand suddenly. âI have to goâŠI forgot that Iâm supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that Iâm ready to show him my part..and yours too.â You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall.Â
You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths, not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed.Â
âAre you okay?â Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadnât even noticed that he was home.
You didnât answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done.Â
âI donât know what Iâm doing anymore.â The words fell from your lips, and you couldnât stop what came after them, âThis whole time iâve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldnât get distractedâŠand so that leaving would be easier.âÂ
âWhat changed then?â Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
âJean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I havenât even really known him that long and suddenly Iâm throwing away school just to hang out with him. I havenât been studying the same way I used to, instead Iâm playing volleyball with him, and heâs holding my hand as we run away. Iâm sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. Iâm cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.â Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.
âYou do know that those donât have to be bad things, right?â He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, âItâs been nice to see you let loose. And I know that youâve been enjoying yourself.â
You attempt to frown, âThats not true.âÂ
A beat passes and you speak again, âOkay. Maybe a littleâŠbut I-â
âNo. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. Itâs time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesnât mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?â
His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away.Â
âOkay.â You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, âI left Jean.â
âWhat?â
âWe were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I justâŠI just left. â
Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. âWellâŠtheres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that youâre alright, and just so that the poor guy doesnât overthink, that he didnât cause you to run off.â
You nodded, âRight. Okay. I can do that.â
It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didnât last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well.Â
âSo, Iâm assuming that you like JeanâŠat least a little bit.â
âOkay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.â You push him gently, facing away from Marco.Â
âAre you going to tell him?â
âOh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.â
He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, âgoodnight lovebird.â
Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter. Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.
You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadnât said anything since then.Â
Slowly you typed out an apology. âHey Jean, Iâm really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.â
You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. âSorry about earlier, I didnât mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasnât you, or the food for that matter.âÂ
You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer.Â
Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. âIts okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.â
He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again.Â
Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, âLet me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.â
âYou really donât have to make anything up to me, I get it.â
âJean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.â
His next message wasnât exactly what you thought heâd sayâŠor actually, it was exactly what he would say, âOh, so if I donât let you have your way, you will be up all nightâŠthinking about me?â
âNo.â You hit send. Then sent another message, âYkw nevermind. Iâm not sorry. Be on time friday or else.â
He was quick to shoot back another response, âOkay fine. Make it up to me.â
Then another message, âHow do you plan on doing that anyways?â
âYouâll see. Be patient.â
It wasnât long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night.Â
The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning.Â
You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag.Â
You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day.Â
You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.
You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean.Â
The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors.Â
Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket.Â
You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. âSorry Iâm late.â
He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, âIs this to get back at me for the other day?â
âNoâŠI just slept past my first alarm.â
âOh so when youâre late its okay but when Iâm late its the worst thing ever.â
You shrugged slightly, âI at least texted you in advance.â You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, âOhâŠum. I got you this. To make up for bailing.â
He eyed the bag suspiciously, âI thought I told you not to worry about it.â
âI worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.â You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, âNo refunds so you have to keep it.â
His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was.Â
âYou bought me a new sketchbook?â He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, âThis is a really nice brand too. Iâve always wanted to try it out.â
âYour other one looked a little full the other dayâŠso I figured I could afford a nice one to say that Iâm sorry. â
Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, âWellâŠthank you. I really appreciate this.â He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours.Â
You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, âLetâs get going, thereâs a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.â
Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so.Â
âI come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.â He said, pulling you along with him.Â
It wasnât too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.
When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jeanâs hand slip from yours.
You hadnât thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists.Â
You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky.Â
âYou like this one?â You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him.Â
He nodded, âItâs simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.â He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the pieceâs title, âPaths.â With an unnamed author.Â
You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, thatâs what you wanted to think. You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on.Â
You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.
It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass.Â
âThis is what started the book, right?â You asked, watching as he nodded once.
âBut thatâs not what iâm thinking about.â
âThen whatâs going on in your mind?â
Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, âWhy did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?â
You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there.Â
âWhen I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.â You paused, thinking back on your childhood, âI used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than thatâŠand then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasnât relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.â
âIâd say that they came true then.â Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.
You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, âAnd what makes you say that?â
âYouâve made two whole friends.âÂ
âIâve made three.â You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, âSasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.â You state matter of factly.
He chuckles, shaking his head. âAnd the third? Donât tell me itâs FlochâŠor even worse, Eren.â
âMmm close. Itâs you.âÂ
He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, âHow long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.â
âYouâre still horribly pleasant.â You remark, shaking your head, âMaybe I should take it back about being friends.â
âToo late, you already said it. No refunds.â He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. âCan I ask you a question?â
âIsnât that technically already a question?â You pause, then nod to him, âBut, yeah, go for it.â
âWhen you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?â
You hesitate. You knew that he wasnât really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.
âNo. I wont. How could I?â Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesnât speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, âWhen it comes to you, specifically youâŠI would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.â
âI am pretty coolâŠâ He mumbles, then swallows his pride, âBut, what if I donât want you to remember me?âÂ
You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.
âI just meanâŠwhat if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?âÂ
He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really.Â
You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasnât one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little.Â
âI think iâd like that.â You smile warmly, âBecause I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I donât want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.â You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, âMaybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.â
âSo, you donât want to skip town and never look back?â he asks
âSkip town? Still do, but I canât afford to ignore my time here.âÂ
âWhat if I came with you when you leave.â itâs less of a question, and more of an idea.
âLetâs just get to graduation first, Jean.â
He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, âGot ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.â
You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. âYou know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.â
âLast one, I promise.âÂ
âOkay, okay, what is it?â
âCan I kiss you?â
Youâre suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes.Â
The stiffness leaves Jeanâs body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face.Â
He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. Youâre sure that you could stand there all day with him.Â
for @tsukkismoonlight âș match-up trades âș hello, thank you for doing this exchange with me! i had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you'll like it đ„ș
your match: gojĆ satoru.
competitive streaks reaching into the quiet depths of night. holding your breaths captive at the reveal of the new fragment in the game's lore. being rendered incapable of laying close to one another because the cat decided to claim ownership of the space between the two of you. buying sweets and souvenirs at the new stand that spawned itself by some alleyway. having the corner of your mouth wiped clean with a single brush of a calloused thumb. bursting with colour and looking out of place together, unconventional and bold, demanding gazes to stick to you like burdock. ruined sleep schedules and baking chocolate-chip cookies in the hours past midnight. playlists made for long drives. shameless laughing to the point your spine bends, knees give up and wall of your stomach aches. polaroid selfies taken in the right moments, lined up on a string as looming, wondrous reminders of good times.
your match is gojĆ satoru; the greatest, the strongest. the one that had changed the flow amongst the dimensions. there is a matching of bright, outgoing and outstanding energies that leaves a pleasant aftertaste in one's mouth. the two of you are a smiling pair; two rays sticking together in the blurry picture of the sun.
satoru has his fair share of oddness, but adores the touch of simplicity that there is to you in comparison to him. it isn't that he associates you with the lack of complexity â it's that he absolutely relishes in the teasing your kitten with a feather on string and flashing you a cheeky grin when he notices you are observing the scene. it's the small things he enjoys, like watching you get frustrated over that one layer only to make your drawing all the better just several minutes later. there is something about the 'mundane' that makes it all worth the fight he puts up.
he can match your energy, and he adores the vibrant boldness of your make-up. satoru has thick skin and rather than be insulted by any of your sarcasm, he would simply mirror you in that regard. he complains that you don't pay attention to what he's saying, but the way a smile tugs at the corner of his lip gives away that he is simply doing so to push your buttons just enough. a little out of line in his own way, he might need to be kept in check at times so as not to step over the boundaries; you can find him with his hand on your shoulder, watching you draw and asking if he could get a portrait â straight up maniacal. tell him off sometimes, he won't mind.
gojĆ satoru is similar to you in the plethora of ways that could serve as a fine line for bonding; giving in to that nap is something he won't fight and spending time together equals to fun experiences. competition whilst playing video games is a given and this relationships brims with child-like joy. however, at the same time, satoru is firm enough to draw boundaries and motivate you towards further growth and development, too. not everything is fun and games, and he remains present throughout all of it, making it the right amount of bearable.
he can be your number one supporter and the line you dial even if he has tendencies to be all over the place and ever-so-slightly unreliable, and in return, treat him to some sweet you baked as an unspoken 'i love you'. he will boast about it to others all day long.
âąGeto Suguru is not normally a coffee kind of guy, heâd much rather a comforting cup of tea, one that warms his fingers as he holds the cup, allowing him to focus on whatever current situation is plaguing him on the forefront of his mind
âąHowever, you were so adamant on him trying something new, practically forcing his hand and his mouth to speak the words of ordering an iced coffee.
âąYou said something about your morning routine, and a local coffee shop, one of those cute locally owned shops, where they sell little trinkets and stickers that are displayed just off to the side of a rickety register
âąGeto Suguru is a very well mannered man, heâs polite to service workers, and would stop to help an old lady across the street. At least, thatâs what he tells other people to say about him.
âąYou know better however. Geto is a charmer, a smile that is easy on the eyes and a voice that could make a cold heart flutter with the right words. He knows how to push peopleâs buttons in ways that they didnât think possible. Geto can talk circles around just about anyone.
âąYou never let him get to you, not in the ways most people did. You set boundaries, told him off one too many times, and easily gave the same energy back to him that he had tried to give to you, but you still spent so much time with him.
âąGeto Suguru isnât one for flighty romance, heâd much rather settle down and live a comfortable life with someone he truly trusts, someone who finds him reliable, and who accepts hard truths when he has to tell them.
âąYou easily had him wrapped around your finger, most people either brushed off his socially abrasive behaviors, or they went out of their way to avoid him. Most people werenât you. He loves your attention, trying to take as much as he can from you, slowly but surely trying to reel you in and see what lies behind the facade that you may or may not have.
âąHe doesnât mind the occasional blunt comment, or the impatience usually caused by his own words and actions. He chooses to focus on your diligence, the way you organize your surroundings and mind. He watches you put yourself first, focusing on improvement and your own personal goals. Geto wants to do those things with you, he wants to see what youâd make of life doing things in a blend of your ways and his ways.
âąSuguru is not the kind of man to jump into something so fast, no, he wants to entice you, make sure that you know exactly what youâre getting into. Heâll adapt to the things you like, reading during a thunderstorm, admiring photographs by people heâs never heard of, anything to be more akin to you.
âąSo of course, when you asked him to join you in your morning, sitting across from each other in the corner of a small and sleepy coffee shop, he couldnât say no. Not when you had practically forced his hand and heart into developing romantic feelings. You and your captivating aura forced his hand.
âąAt least, thats what he tells himself.
+bonus lock screens that i couldnât figure out which one i liked more
