August 2 - Talking in your sleep
"What?" Jean groaned, rolling over to his side. He blinked through the blurry darkness, but didn't see anyone else awake. Irritation made him flop back onto his back and snatch his pillow over his face.
"It's called a 'sea'." Armin's voice floated softly through the quiet room, slipping through the snores and worming into Jean's mind.
"What is?" He'd never heard of a 'sea' and couldn't fathom what it might be.
"Lots..." Armin took a breath with a little sigh. "Of water. With salt. So big... can't see across it."
Jean thought about the river and how on very sunny days at certain times, the sun would reflect off of the water and blind him to the far bank. But he could always see the Wall. And that much salt? He wondered what it would be like.
He dreamed of the 'sea' that night, or what he imagined it to be. It looked just like the river, muddy and brown, but stretched on and on forever without a Wall to stop it.
The next morning, he found Armin at breakfast. He was alone and playing with the thick, lumpy oatmeal in his bowl. Jean sat down across from him.
"What's a 'sea'?"
Armin stared up at him, confused for a moment. "What?"
"You were talking about it last night in your sleep. What is it?"
Armin hunched forward a little, his face turning pink and his shoulders rounding as if he were trying to hide. "It's a very large body of saltwater. I... I read about it once in a book..."
"Oh." Jean shoveled the crappy oatmeal into his mouth, trying his best not to taste it. He'd hoped for a better description.
"There was a picture." Armin was almost whispering, his spoon abandoned. "It's supposed to be very blue, not muddy like the river. And there are waves - great big ones, sometimes, all white and foamy on top. Different kinds of fish and plants - kinds we've never seen or heard of - exist below the surface."
Listening to Armin talk about the 'sea' was like listening to his mom talk about cooking. He didn't understand what there was about some water and a bunch of fish to be so obsessed about, but he supposed everyone was passionate about different things. He shrugged one shoulder and swallowed hard.
"Where is it?"
"Somewhere far away," Armin whispered, his shoulders falling and his hair hiding the sad look on his face.
"Well, you're going to the Survey Corps, right? Maybe you'll see it one day." And with that, he stood and took his bowl to go join Marco who'd just sat down a few tables away.
A/N: So this is the first of my Jearmin week submissions. It can be found on my tumblr as well (link in profile, btw).