Day Five: Silence

Summary: Jean has always been a normal guy. He feels the same way everyone else does, he sees the same way everyone else does, and he looks the same way everyone else does. But there's something about him that's different. He's deaf, and no one can seem to get over it. Except one girl. Mikasa Ackerman.

Rating: T (Occasional language)

Word Count: 2,089

•~•~•~•~•

Jean's not weird. He wished people would realize that. He basically had the same life as everyone. He woke up, ate breakfast, took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and went to school. He ate lunch and went to more classes, came home, did homework, played video games, and ate dinner. He talked to his mom and dad. He texted people. And then he went to sleep. He wasn't different. Being deaf wasn't that bad. You just couldn't be in band or be on the debate team, and it was difficult to listen to music at times, and you had to sign while you talked sometimes because it's hard to pronounce words when you can't hear that well, so people might not always understand you. But that was okay. His life was okay.

Today was a Thursday, which of course meant that he was at school. Luckily, it also meant that in calculus there was no lecture, just the weekly pop quiz. Most students would hate such an assignment, but Jean loved it. He didn't have to read lips as the teacher talked. It was silent, nobody talked to him; he just worked and sat undisturbed until the bell. It also meant that Mikasa was coming over to study with him. So, of course, Thursdays were his favorite day of the week.

Today started out like any other Thursday, and continued like any other Thursday. He read lips in English, Physics, Biotechnology, and partly in art, although mostly he just did assignments. He ate his lunch with Mikasa and some of his and her other friends. Then he took his lovely, completely unpredictable weekly pop quiz in calculus, just like every other Thursday, looked at more lips in World History, and finally was able to drive home after study hall.

Once at home, he finished his homework while devouring a bag of chips, and played video games until it was time for Mikasa to arrive. He was ridiculously nervous, considering how much he'd grown to like her. "Like" was actually a bit of an under exaggeration. He was head-over-heels in love. He got really awkward around her and he used really stupid pick-up lines, but she thought they were all jokes. He was hopelessly friend-zoned, and she probably liked Eren Jaeger, the ever-desirable friend who could actually talk to her.

But maybe today he would get the guts up to tell her. Maybe today he would finally look into her eyes and say "I love you." Was it likely? No. But he could dream that he would do it. He could dream that she would say it back. Jean wasn't much of a dreamer, preferring to focus on the probable, but he did wish for this one thing.

Soon, his mother tapped Jean on the shoulder, gesturing for him to come downstairs. He did as he was told; finding Mikasa sitting at the table with a mug of steaming hot cocoa in her hands, since it was cold outside, and Jean's mother was an extremely hospitable person. He smiled hello and sat down next to her awkwardly.

While they were reading some of the physics textbook, Jean thought about what exactly made Mikasa so special to him. Such a friendship would be a bad thing to lose if he confessed such love, only to realize that his attraction was just a result of some overly romanticized false image of her. Hm. Well, she was beautiful. Not just "pretty" or anything, she was unparalleled by any other in beauty. Her hair was one of his favorite things about her on the outside. Though short, it was silky smooth and jet black, like the night sky; he dreamt of running his fingers through the strands. Her eyes were grey like smoke or silver, captivating in their individuality. Her skin was soft as a child's, and he could only imagine holding her hands in his own, how smooth they would be. Her personality, though, was something so much more incredible in and of itself. She was quiet, kind and gentle. And yet, there was true strength and fortitude, both mental and physical, beneath that layer of calmness. She was extremely loyal to those she cared for, willing to do anything at all for them if it meant their safety or happiness. There was so much to her that he loved. And not just her personality and physical beauty, but the facts that she and Jean understood each other in a way, because she wasn't like everyone else either. Mikasa was mute. There was some defect her vocal cords, something even the best surgeons would ever be able to fix.

Although she could hear, she couldn't speak. They were like each other's mouth and ears in areas where they were lacking. As a result, Jean felt almost as though he could connect to her better than almost anyone he had ever met. It felt like he understood what she was going through, and she understood what he was going through. Maybe that was one of the biggest reasons why he loved her. They'd known each other since freshman year, when he was unattractive and she was somehow pretty in a youthful way, and the teacher put them next to each other in biology because they would work well together, with their complimentary "defects" and all, which really weren't defects, just differences. Every day since then, he'd fallen a little harder for her each day. And damn it, they were seniors now and he'd done nothing about it. Maybe, before she went off to college, he could tell her instead of losing her without her ever knowing, because in all honesty, he could hardly stand keeping this feeling to himself any longer.

Jean had gotten so lost in his musings that he didn't feel her poking him until she gave up and punched him in the arm. Granted, she didn't use her full force, she had the potential to make it hurt much more, but it was still quite painful. He grinned apologetically at her as she rolled her eyes and pointed at one of the lines in the text, then signed him a few things she used to remember that fact. Oh, right. They were studying. But honestly, he had these particular facts committed to memory easily for once. He looked at her and, once she had finished, nodded politely, and promptly closed the thick textbook. She looked quizzically at him, as if to say, hey, what was that for?

He shrugged. "I've got this lesson down. There's no point to going over it," he said.

She raised an eyebrow, somewhat offended. 'So does that mean you want me to leave?'

Jean shook his head. "No. I want you to come on a walk with me." He had finally made up his mind, determined to tell her. He pushed away the nervous feeling in his stomach.

Mikasa shook her head. 'First, your mother would be worried sick if we just left without telling her. Second, why?' After all, he was being quite vague about the whole affair, and it was quite cold outside.

"We leave her a note. I do this all the time. And there's something I need to tell you." In truth, he rarely did this for, for his mother feared something unheard hurting him, such as a car, even though he would most likely hear something as loud as a car coming straight at him. Although Jean loved his mother and would choose no other, she was somewhat overcautious sometimes, at least in his opinion. However, Mikasa's hearing was perfect, so his mother had no possible valid objection to the activity.

Mikasa looked at him in a strange, somewhat unsure way, and then nodded. Jean scribbled a note on a piece of notebook paper, grabbed his coat, and off they went.

•~•~•~•~•

Jean and Mikasa took the short route to the park, which was only five minutes away from Jean's house. They didn't say anything to each other, they just walked together. The cold breeze nipped at their skin, noses red and fingers kept in pockets to keep them from turning blue. The foliage on the trees was white powder, from the ground grew snow instead of grass. The sky was a pure, rich blue, completely clear of clouds, the air crisp around them.

Mikasa finally stopped Jean by a pond turned to white ice, snowflakes coating the surface. She looked at him somewhat sternly. 'What is it that you brought me here to tell me?' After all, though it was pretty, it was also very, very chilly.

Jean's heart beat faster in his chest and his heart swooped. He…he could just say he forgot what it was or say he just wanted her to take a walk with him or something, and then they could go back. Sure, she'd be a little pissed, but at least he might not face rejection. But…he had to tell her some way. He couldn't just lose her to some other school once they graduated, without her ever knowing. But when he opened his mouth, he felt that be couldn't get any words out. So, instead, he held up a hand and signed 'I love you,' his little and index finger extended with his thumb to the side. He blushed darkly, but he needed to say it somehow.

Mikasa looked extremely confused for a minute or two, her brows scrunched. She kept looking at Jean's hands, as if she expected a "just kidding" or "as a friend," but those phrases never came. He held his index and little finger up, thumb slightly to the side, a very clear indicator that he did, in fact, love her. 'What do you mean, Jean?' she motioned. She couldn't understand if he meant romantically or just that he valued their friendship. He certainly couldn't love her the way she loved him, he couldn't. How could he, even as a deaf person, ever love someone who couldn't even speak?

Jean became nervous, more so than he already was, blushing. "I…" His lips paused. How could he really explain it? After a life of so few words, how could he express them? He wasn't good with words, even in writing. He didn't want to seem cheesy or any of that. Hence, why he only used a single sign and three words earlier. But…if she truly didn't understand…oh, what the hell. Fuck it.

Suddenly, Jean crashed his lips into hers, his hand cupping the side of her face, just barely touching her soft skin. She tasted like peppermint and chocolate and something else that he didn't have time to figure out, since he pulled away too quickly. He lingered longer than he should have, too blissfully intoxicated with her lips touching his. Her lips were a little chapped from the cold, but he didn't care, because his were too. The kiss was short and to the point, but it was sweet. And she didn't attempt to pull away, so maybe it was a good way to tell her.

When Jean pulled back, his coppery eyes searched hers desperately for any sign of hunger or desire or anything to suggest that she might want more, or that she felt the same way. Any sign that her heart belonged to him, that maybe she cared. Any quiver, any dilation of pupils, anything at all.

Mikasa, quite honestly, was stunned. She didn't expect this, whatever he had meant. Yet, she didn't…not enjoy it. Hand motions, she decided, would not do her feelings justice. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him back, gently pulling him down so she wouldn't have to stand on her tiptoes.

After this exchange, it was Jean's turn to look surprised and somewhat flustered. "So, I take it you love me too?" His sign language, as well as his speech, was slow and unsure, as if he still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Mikasa smiled and laughed silently—something that looked like a regular laugh, but, since there was a deformity in her vocal cords, sounded like more air being breathed out than usual. Jean blushed and looked down, but she tipped his face back up to hers gently. She nodded, still smiling.

Her smile was so infectious and lovely that soon Jean had cracked a smile too, and they just stood there silently in the snow, shivering, noses red and teeth chattering. Jean pulled her into his arms and peppered her face with soft, happy kisses, the feeling of being accepted, the feeling of being loved by and loving her washing over him, taking control. It was them, just them, and they were happy. They were in love, and that was all that mattered.

God, he loved Thursdays.