S.E.V.E.N.
Shingeki no Kyojin belongs to Hajime Isayama. I take no profit of this and all of the characters inside. All of the purpose of making this is just for fun and entertaining.
jean/sasha – au – prompt 4: (e)ight roses
Sasha is wholefully caked in mud now, lying on her stomach. Half of her face is drowned into the pool of mushy soil. Her eyes is narrowed, an implied sign that she is not in a mood to play cheerfully as usual.
Jean wrinkles his nose, his way to look at Sasha indicates a disgust. "You are filthy. Nasty."
"I don't care," she grunts.
Jean, who is sitting in the edge of the mudhole, throws a rock towards Sasha. Lucky her, the rock lands near her shoulder. It looks like that Jean throws it just in order to tease her, not to hurt his brunette little friend intentionally.
"Why do you look so upset? You're so ugly being like that. Mud-bathed—and what is that face? You're like a moster. Did you lose the half of your bread for brekfast?"
"I doooon't care."
"Muddy monster."
"Whatever."
"What happens to you? Did your mom just scold you because you ate too much bread and then you stole your dad's too as your rubber stomach is more likely never be full and satisfied?" Jean rolls his eyes, laying his eyes on Sasha too long makes him sick, looks like he is going to bring his breakfast up soon. "It's logic, omnivorous girl, you'll be a big-fat-idle kid soon if your mom doesn't bound that wild food craving of yours."
"Shut up, Jean."
"Tch," Jean gets up, deciding to leave her alone as he thinks that it is surely wasting his time watching her mud-bathing like a lazy hippotamus. "Do whatever you want, brat. I don't want to touch you even after you clean up yourself with ten times of bath."
"You even haven't bathed yourself!" Sasha gives him a stern gaze. She rises up, crawling fast to the edge of mud pond to grab his ankle and—BLAM!—he is no longer safe.
"I WON'T FORGIVE YOU!"
"Whateverrrr."
"Tsk, damn," Jean stands up with awareness, trying to avert the chance of Sasha grabbing his foot once again. He is going to kick her or to pour the mud directly to her face, but then gives in gradually when hearing a vague sobs.
Who else?
"You cry after trapping me in this disgusting hole?"
"Hic ... hic ..."
All of the disgust, disappointed, angry feeling is suddenly turns into nothing. He sits before her, scrutinizing her facade. "Did someone hurt you?" his protective and possessive side starts to show up. Something he doesn't know why or when they started to exist in his heart, and as long as he remembers, he has them for Sasha only. As a six years old boy, this case is still an unsolved mystery.
Shaking her head, she rubs her eyes to hinder her tears to flow more, but it just turns her look to be worst. "I-I want that tiara ... hic ... it is so beautiful ... I-Iwant to buy it ... b-but ... hic ... it is so expensive ... sobs."
"What?"
"Tiara ... you're to stupid if you don't know that thing," Sasha purses her lips, "Did you remember what was my aunt wears on the top of her head in her wedding? It is something that glitters and makes a girl prettier. I want that, Jean ..."
"Go dress up yourself, but at least take a bath thrice first."
"But I want that tiara—"
"Go grab better clothes so we will be able to get that silly thing you want."
"... What?" her eyebrows raise, her mouth slightly agape.
"Go. Bath. Now. I'll leave, I'm going to take a bath too."
"Whoaaa—Jean, thank you so much!" she jumps to embrace his torso tightly. "I love you! Then let's take a bath together so we can make it faster!" her mood hauls perfectly to the common Sasha who knows for years, an innocent-noisy girl.
"Stupid!" Jean forces Sasha to let himself go. "We are not allowed to!"
"Eeh? Who forbids us? I like your lemon-scented soap, let's take a bath togetheeeer~!"
"No," he states boldly, trying to hide the inevitable blush creeping up on his cheek by turning his head, but eventually fails to do so, his expression still can be seen by her, who is giggling now. "We are not allowed. Mom said that a boy and a girl are not allowed to do so unless they are ... married."
"Aaa, I see. Then take a bath faster so we will be married soon!" she cheerfully jumps from the brownish pool, waving her hand, leaving him dumbfounded.
"Sasha, what do you mean—ah, damn you, potato head!"
.
.
"Here, here it is," Sasha grabs Jean by wrist, drawing the boy to show the stuff she wants so much. The tiara is placed neatly inside a luxury box.
Jean's eyes lay blankly on the price tag hanging on the accessory, then squinting at some dollars inside his hold, he has taken almost all of his saving, approximately fifty dollars with some pennies, he almost left nothing in the box of his saving as the remaining hope of it that he has been collecting for almost a year.
He ponders. The proprietor won't give the two hundreds tiara to a kid like him who just has a quarter of the price in his hand.
And then a brilliant idea comes to his mind.
"You'll have a better tiara," he grips her wrist, bringing her leaving the shop. He strides fast. "Follow me!"
.
.
.
"What kind of tiara do you want to make? Do you have some glinting diamonds to make it shines on my head, huh, Jean? Jean, answer meee!"
"Shut up. You are so noisy."
Jean brings a long wire along with eight roses from his backyard (his mom is addicted to every kind of flowers, Sasha loves to play there, the area is made up by Jean's mom herself, it's more likely a nice public garden).
Following his words, Sasha watches him in silent. He chains those roses with the wire she doesn't know where he got. He takes long enough, however, and she gets bored so she leaves him to climb the apple tree in the corner of her backyard. Those red fruits look alluring to her so she feels tempted to pick some.
(She is pro at climbing, he loves to mock her "monkey!" because he, literally, envies Sasha's hidden talent.)
.
"Come here, monkey!" he waves the red tiara he has just finished seconds ago, "I have finished my present for you!"
Hurriedly, with a half-bitten apple between her upper and lower teeth, Sasha goes back to him. Enthusiasm gleams in her hazel eyes.
"This is for you," he gets up and tiptoes a little—they have the same height that he sometimes feels upset of—to place his handmade gift. "Maybe it looks more like as a crown but ... yeah, I don't have enough money to buy you that real tiara."
He can watch the changing facade of hers, she beams—leaving him stunned.
And then Sasha runs while still smiling widely, Jean is puzzled, trying to call her back. She is not that bad to leave him alone without saying any grateful words after what he did for her, right?
"Sasha, what are you—"
"Just wait for a moment!" Sasha turns her head to Jean, her little feet is stepping onto the veranda, and she throws her shoes carelessly. "I'll get something for you!"
.
True to her words, she finally goes back to him with a red cloth on her grip. A high curve graced her face—a smile that still hasn't disappeared since she entered her house.
"Wear this," Sasha doesn't let Jean to ask even for a single word. "The king usually wear this, right? Ah, perfect!" she slips the cloth inside his shirt's back collar.
"King? What king?"
"The king. And I'm the queen, look at my beautiful flower crown. It is even prettier than the tiara I have showed at the shop! We are the married king and queen, Jean!" she laughs innocently, grabbing his arm and clinging onto his side.
His cheeks flushes, competing the reddish flower on the top of her head. "What kind of play is this?" he asks with a lowered voice, more to his embarrasment.
"We play as a king and queen, Jean! Let's play as a pair who owns our little kingdom~!" she stretches her arm widely, describing her surrounding as a palace, natural palace.
His expression is more likely to be upset, but deep inside his heart he refuses to let her go from his arm. More to be honest, he likes this.
"... Okay."
Everything looks so beautiful today in his eyes, especially her smile and that amusement look inside of her shimmering eyes—that bathed by the summer's sunlight.
He is gradually forming a smile.
"It means we can take a bath together after this since we are married already!"
"... STUPID! This is just a play!"
.
.
end.
A/N: osananajimi!jean/sasha is daaaa best guh /throws love confetti everywhere/ thank you for reading! o/
