So age ago I had this idea for a Jearmin surfer AU, it was going to be something kind of angsty and edgy where Jean was from Melbourne Australia and Armin was from Cornwall England. I was telling mizzshy about it while we were driving home from work and we both had the same realisation that Armin would have a west country accent XD if you know what that sounds like that's funny as fuck, if you don't find one on YouTube and it will be funny as fuck. So a comedy of accents was born and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it
The surf first thing in the morning, when the sun is just peaking over the horizon, is Jean's favourite place to be in the whole wide world . (Not that he's been many other places in the whole wide world having never left Melbourne but still.) It's quiet, it's warm but not the scorching sun of midday, and most of all, there's no one around. First thing in the morning there is no one out there to bother him and he has time alone with his thoughts. How can it get any better than this?
Sitting astride his surfboard he closes his eyes, letting the sun warm his face and takes a deep breath of fresh morning air. It's his own little slice of heaven and it allows him time to think. Granted all he's thinking about is what he needs to buy when he goes shopping later but it's still some much needed time in his otherwise hectic schedule. He knows that as soon as he gets back to the shore then it's over and it's back to being busy.
He opens his eyes and looks over to the shoreline and sighs to himself. It's probably getting late and he's got to shower the salt water off before he goes to work. Luckily for him he can feel a wave brewing that will hopefully take him right down to the beach. That will be enough surfing for him for one day.
As his eyes scan the beach his gaze falls on a glint of gold in the morning sunshine. It takes him a second to realise that it's a person and the gold is their hair. From where he is he can't see them properly but when he can see is absolutely beautiful. He's always had a bit of a thing for blonds and they look like they have soft features along with a lithe body. The more Jean stares the more he wonders if he's seeing an angel walk along the sand.
I need to go and talk to them!
The realisation hits him as he feels the wave start to swell. He readies himself on his board and rides the wave to the sand, the feeling of it breaking beneath him is exhilarating. He knows that if he's lucky he'll get there in time to watch their delighted reaction as he steps off his board at the end. That and the adrenaline is all he thinks about as he rides the wave, heart pounding, right to the bottom.
By the time he reaches the sand however there is no one else in sight. He looks around, hoping to catch another glimpse of the blond angel but there's nothing but the beach and the waves. Damn it...
"Guess I must have imagined it," he mutters to himself as he crosses the sand to where he has left his clothes. He runs his towel through his hair and pulls his phone out of his pocket. It's only half past seven, he's got time for a few more waves before he has to leave. He puts his phone back in his pocket out of sight and heads back out to the water.