Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I heard Eren shout from the next room. "GOD DAMMIT, I SWEAR TO GOD, HORSE-FACE, YOU'VE SNOOZED THAT ALARM EIGHT TIMES, SOME OF US HAVE NIGHT CLASSES." I quickly peeked at the alarm and noticed I was going to be late. I quickly tried to bed out of bed, managing to get myself tangled in my soft sheets and landing on the wooden floor with a thud. Eren was snickering at me in the other room, that assmunch.
I turned off the alarm and began to root through my drawers, looking for a less-wrinkled shirt I could wear to class. I didn't care too much about looks, but I didn't want everyone to think I'm a SLOB. I settled on a semi-wrinkled grey button up and a pair of black jeans from the desk chair. I didn't remember why it was across the room, but it was clean and I needed to go get some coffee so I can process life.
I dramatically burst out of my bedroom and into our shared kitchen, where Mikasa and Eren were sitting at the table, Mikasa was eating toast and Eren was staring at his, still trying to wake up. His tired eyes latched onto my outfit then my hair and they lit up devilishly.
"You look like a slob, Horse-face." How can that stupidly annoying kid somehow see through my beautiful exterior and straight into my insecurities? Mikasa glared at him and slapped his arm. "What? I mean..." He paused, "Sorry." I ignored him and began to root around for my sneakers. Where the hell were my shoes? I was going to be late, I would have to miss my coffee time. No, I was determined to get there on time.
I grew frustrated, my eyebrows furrowed as I searched for my footwear. "Where the HELL ARE YOU!?" I boomed, running both hands through my hair. I felt someone tap my shoulder and I turned to see Mikasa looking at me with a raised eyebrow, my sneakers in my hand. I looked at her and noticed that I laid out my outfit on the coffee table for today, thus meaning they were right in front of me. I face-palmed.
"Are you feeling okay, Jean?" She said in her soft voice, putting a hand on my forehead. "You seem off this morning." I shook her off and plopped on the couch, quickly tying them. I remember I had such a crush on her, and I still do. Mikasa was beautiful, but she was with Eren and I didn't want to fight with him, although I actually wanted to fight him.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." I barked, standing and walking towards the door. I walked out and began to jog towards the campus coffee shop "Expresso yourself." I always rolled my eyes at the forced positivity the college displayed, after a mass of suicides and self-harm, they would hammer in the positivity. I quickly went into the shop, gasping for air and bent over, my hands on my knees as people stared at me like I was mad, but I didn't care, the smell of coffee made my mouth water as I stood in line and impatiently waited for my turn to order my coffee.
I quickly went into the shop, gasping for air and bent over, my hands on my knees as people stared at me like I was mad, but I didn't care, the smell of coffee made my mouth water as I stood in line and impatiently waited for my turn to order some coffee. I watched the person at the bar, smiling despite the rude customers and the idiotic hat he was forced to wear. His brown eyes met mine and his lips moved, he was talking to me.
"Sir?" I snapped back to reality, my face heating up. "Haha. Good morning! Wakey-wakey!" He giggled and put his hands on the counter. I chuckled nervously.
"C-Can I have..." My eyes skimmed the menu and I ordered. The man, Marco as his name tag stated, nodded and began to prepare it easily. He was so overworked and it was only him and his other person I recognized as Daz, but Daz was in the corner crying, obviously not mentally able to handle the stress of this job. Marco was all alone and doing it flawlessly.
He handed me the warm coffee cup and wished me a good day, looking straight into my eyes. It wasn't like the other people, who say it robotically to be polite and to get tips, Marco meant it.
"Y-You too!" I said, handing him ten bucks for a tip.
"No! No! I don't need this." Marco refused, waving his hand. I awkwardly put it back into my pocket and turned to get to class on time. I was nearly shoved out of the way by a brunette with glasses with another person, a man with an angled face and cold eyes that could stare straight to your soul. I've seen this kid around before and "Freckles! I'm so sorry, I slept in and Levi nearly had to drag me here!" Levi, the shorter man, grunted and nudged them with his soldier.
"Hanji! It's fine. I'm going to be late for class." Marco replied breezily. "Thanks, Hanji, Levi." The man walked next to me and I felt my heart pitter-patter as I ignored him, hopefully, he didn't notice and make things awkward. We walked on the sidewalk and he turned to me, noticing. "Hi! How's the coffee?"
"U-Uh! Yes!" I sputtered, nearly choking on it. Smooth. "Fine, thanks! Uh, I-I'm Jean!" I awkwardly introduced myself. God, I'm a mess. I never talked to new people, it was always the same people I grew up with, I never had to face someone like this. There was something about this kid, he was just so nice and friendly and I didn't understand how to communicate.
"I'm Marco! It's nice to meet you, Jean." We walked some more, both of us just enjoying the warm day. "Hey, where are you going?"
"Fine arts," I said, swallowing the boiling drink. "What about you?" I turned to see him beam at me, his cheeks flushed with happiness. It was endearing how excited he was.
"Wow, me too!" He checked his watch and his smile dropped. "We're two minutes late." We made eye contact and began to sprint, our backpacks thumping against our backs as the giant building came into view. We managed to get to our classroom, hoping that no one has noticed their lateness.
"You two gentlemen are late." Professor Erwin's deep voice made them freeze. "Sit down, the lesson is starting." They both sat down in their assigned seats and the lesson started.
I don't believe in fate and destiny. But it was funny now that I realize that Jean and I both were in all the same classes and my dorm-room was two stories above his. We've been near each other for most of our college career.
I looked down at the assignment, it was talking about drawing a face in your own art style and I sighed a bit. I enjoyed art, but I've never felt that confidence in my work that my peers have. I stared at the paper, the big blank slate mocking me as I pondered on what to draw. I scanned the room, seeing everyone hard at work, scribbling and shading and smudging.
My eyes stopped on Jean. He sat only a bit in front of me and I could see half of his face. He was nibbling on his bottom lip and drawing his face, his eyebrow twitching as he made a mistake and gently rubbed the pink eraser on the paper. I realized how creepy I was being with the staring at him, but this kid was simply attractive and I was gay.
Yes, I am super duper gay. Sadly I'm still half-way closeted, as only my closest friends know but no one else. I trust them completely, as most of them are somehow in the LGBTQIA community themselves. They won't tell unless I tell them they can, which is always nice. I loved my friends, although they annoyed me at times. But whatever, that was true friendship after all.
I began to draw, just letting my jumbled brain take over and enjoy my time. Suddenly everyone was packing up to leave and I sat there, confused. Time went by fast when you were having fun. I looked down at the paper and my eyes widened.
Oh, god.
Oh, how embarrassing. I had to pass it in!
It was a picture of Jean. I was staring at him the whole time and I didn't mean to draw him. People gave Erwin their drawings and he would nod and put it in a pile to be graded. I was last in line and I handed it to him. He smiled a bit.
"Huh. Looks like someone in this class." He gave me a knowing look and my face began to burn.
"Sir, I'm so sorry, I was distracted and I needed a reference, and I'm just so embarrassed this happe-" I began to ramble, only stopping when he raised a hand.
"This is excellent work. You can have it back." He marked it with an A+ and handed it to me. This was my first A+ in this class. "You need to be proud of work like this, Mister Bodt. You enjoyed drawing this and it showed. Now move along." He nodded and I left the room with my legs quivering like jello. I was so happy, I even did a small victory dance in the hallway.
"What the hell was that?" Reiner was behind him and I yelped. He burst into laughter and forced me into a headlock, "That was the stupidest thing I have seen all day." He noticed the paper and swiped it. "Hey, this is pretty good, Marco! Good job!" He boomed, "this is amazing!"
I chuckled and looked down at my feet, embarrassed. "It's... Meh, I can do better. I know it." I was determined.
"Well, I have to go. I'm super late." He handed the drawing back and left. I quickly hustled to Art History, where I sat in an almost completely empty row of seats and prepared for a tedious lesson where the Professor said "um" or "uh" every six seconds. Someone sat two seats away from me, but I just ignored them, mentally preparing for this agony.
It started and I sighed on the inside. A folded piece of paper was thrown into my lap. I looked to the side to see none other then Jean, who was staring at the Professor intensely.
I unfolded it.
His bowtie matches the color of his skin.
I looked up to look at him. His bowtie was a pale yellow, much like his wrinkled skin. I muffled a laugh and it came out as a pathetic snark. I turned to look at Jean and he raised an eyebrow and mimed a pencil writing on paper. I wrote back.
He wears it every day, does he just wear the same one or does he have more than one?
I tossed it back and he unfolded it, a small smile spreading across his face.
I wonder where he shops for yellow ties. I imagine him walking into a shop every day and everyone knows him because of it, "Hello, Mike! Here for another tie?"
Marco admired his blocky, clean handwriting. It was better than his failed attempt at being neat, it all just looked smudged.
Hey, didja know we have every class together?
Yes. I wonder why we never talk, this is nice. I h8 this class.
Yeah, uh, so um, so we should uuuuuuuh...
Marco felt mean for mocking the teacher, but he droned on like he hated his job. He didn't make learning enjoyable for them. Jean wrote his response and they passed notes for the whole class, their responses becoming more and more sarcastic as they warmed up to each other. Marco found himself fighting the urge to burst into hysterics, his eyes watering.
Heyo, whats your phone #? Just in case I need help, cus youre a brainiac.
March flushed. He wanted his phone number? He quickly wrote his back and they exchanged phone numbers and began to text to each other.