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Drabbles for Jeankasa Week on tumblr

(Mikasamun on JeankasaSquad

Each prompt is accompanied with a picture by the lovely Jazz/jazzie560)

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::Day Two

Confession::

For the past hour, Jean stood before the mirror of the bathroom, brushing his hair over and over and checking his teeth for any bit of food that could be hidden somewhere. He ran his fingertips over his eyebrows, fixing the short hairs into place, ironed his Scouting Legion jacket and picked a brand new linen shirt. There was not a trace of dirt in his boots; they were clean and shiny as new. He even bought a new pair of socks for the occasion, everything to look good for Mikasa.

He would do fine, he assured himself. He had practiced and it all went well. Armin approved of his speech and even corrected a few things; the blond knew so much about a lot of things, romance included. Jean was pretty sure he read every book in their library.

"Alright," Jean stared at his reflection, rolled his shoulders to get rid of the tension. "One last time." Clearing his throat, he leaned back on the wall behind him and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes focused on the mirror all the time. A slight arch of one eyebrow, a corner of his lips quirked higher than the other. He looked handsome, even more than usual.

You can do it, his mind reminded, and he gave his most seductive smile. "Hello, Mikasa." Maybe if he lowered the pitch of his voce just slightly… He tried again and it was perfect. "I'm glad you could come meet me this evening. I just wanted to tell you some things." Jean paused; here is the part when she asks him what it is, looking at him with her perfect, pretty eyes. "You are so skilled and deadly, and so, so beautiful. You really are something, did you know that?"

"You're the top graduate of our class and you don't deserve any less. You earned that rank; you gave your all and keep on giving to save humanity." He tilted his head to the other side, looking at his reflection (and soon enough her) from another angle. Damn, the left side of his face was prettier than the right side.

He made a tch sound and lowered his head, grinning, presumably after she said something nice. "I was wondering…" Facing the mirror again, he pushed away from the tiled wall and approached the sink counter, placing his hands on its flat surface. Then, he imagined as if he were holding her hips, imagined her breath fanning the base of his neck, and he licked his lips in anticipation. "Would you like to be my girl?"

Quickly pushing away, he pumped his fist into the air and checked his hair one last time. It was fine, he looked fine, he would do fine. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the bathroom and down the halls.

Somewhere else, Mikasa smoothed her hand down her shirt and raked her fingers through her hair. Although she did not show it, she was nervous. Very, very nervous. Opening up to others had always been an issue, in a way or another, and now she was about to make the biggest confession in a long time.

It should not be hard. She was a terrible liar, so there was no way she would be able to sneak out if anything went wrong, but it would work out smoothly. Mikasa fearlessly voiced her opinions in meetings she attended to before; telling Jean a few words would not be much easier, or so she hoped.

"I would protect you with my life," her nose wrinkled, she hastily picked her scarf from the vanity. "Ugh, no. Too much." Okay, maybe finding the right words would be a little difficult. With her scarf over her shoulders, she approached the vanity and pulled a drawer open, taking out an elastic band, and loosely tied her hair in a short and low ponytail. "I would chase after the Female Titan to save you." Too Eren-ish. Mikasa scoffed at her own stupidity and wrapped her scarf neatly, freeing her hair from the elastic band and setting it on the table.

Hands on the back of the chair and bracing her weight, a long breath blew through her lips as she stared at her reflection. "Just let him talk first," she mumbled. Standing straight, she did a double check and calmly left the room.

They met by the training grounds that were usually empty by this time of the day and walked side by side in silence until they got to the borders of a small portion of trees. Jean leaned on a bark and crossed his arms, watching as she stood stiffly before him and, after a few moments, she motioned for him to speak first. But the moment he parted his lips he knew he was disgraced, for it was like someone brainwashed him and stripped him of his confidence and smugness.

Swallowing hard, Jean kept his composure and at least pretended to be cool. Shit. What would he do now? It's okay. He breathed in deeply, you can do it. "So, uh… Y-You're the answer to all my prayers, s-so that means you're religious, right?" Mikasa made a face, brow furrowed and lips parted, but nothing came out. Shit, that was a bad sign. "I– I mean–"

"Jean, let's just–" She blew air through her lips, exasperated. "Let's just go to town and… And we'll talk there."

He perked up. That was his cue, he knew of this pickup line that never failed, ever, and it would not fail him now. "B-But I think I'll need directions!" Could have been better, but he would not complain.

She looked over her shoulder at him, having already walked handful of steps ahead. "Directions?" Fully turning to face him, the girl pointed her forefinger to her left. "Jean, the town is over there."

"To your heart!" He blurted out and once he noticed his slip (and the face she made, oh god, he was scaring her!) his cheeks turned deep red. Fuck.

Mikasa was, internally, freaking out. This was not what she had planned or had in mind at all. She thought they would meet, he would say his part and she would most likely repeat his words using her own. But this, these sentences that did not make any sense, she was not expecting. His red face, stutters and nervousness, that she was ready to face, but not this, never this.

Shifting her weight, it sounded like a good idea to change the subject at the moment, so Mikasa did her best to seem collected and relaxed, she even stretched her arms behind her back to seem at ease. "That's a new shirt, isn't it?"

Jean nodded, a bit too rapidly and excitedly, and smoothed his hand down his chest and stomach. "Wanna know what it's made of?"

"Uhm… Linen?" She guessed. Since a young age she was able to tell different fabrics apart; her mother taught her that.

His smirk was overly excited, "Boyfriend material!"

The only reaction she managed to give was gap at him and stare as if he had just told her he still wet his bed which, she hoped, was not true. At a loss of what to say or do, Mikasa simply shut her mouth and faced somewhere else. Jean's wide shifted into a hesitant one and he grew anxious, shifting on the spot as he watched the unmoving girl. Should he say something? Probably, and this time he would have to make sure it was not another lame pickup line. It is funny, because he did not know he knew so many. Heh, maybe Connie was controlling his brain from afar.

With his mind set, he cleared his throat. "Do you–"

"No." He sealed his lips and cringed at her tone. Mildly irritated or pissed off beyond belief; one of these matched her current state of spirit. Her closed fists rested on her hips and she stared at the ground, long and hard, debating matters on her head. Jean remained quiet, giving her the space she needed and trying to force his blush to go away.

Breathing out slowly, she whirled around and marched up him, the movement so abrupt Jean jumped in surprise. Mikasa grabbed his hand and turned his palm upwards, staring down at it as her fingers traced the lines inside; he swallowed, waiting for her to speak.

"I read palms," she said nonchalantly, fingertip brushing the heel of his hand and inner side of his wrist; "it says you'll ask me out on a date."

His face flushed hotly and he smirked down at her. "Is it hot in he–"

"Jean, no." Mikasa cut him, dropping his hand and sliding her palms up his fore arm, fingers curling around the crook of his elbow. "Just shut up and take me out."