They found something of a routine. Jean would get up early and help Marco with whatever chore he was in the middle of at the crack of dawn, then he'd return after he'd finished working with Levi. Sometimes he'd help Marco finish something, like herding the sheep or watering the crops. Other times they'd simply lay in the grass and talk. Sometimes they wouldn't talk, and would spend the time in silent companionship.
It didn't matter what they were doing, Jean liked it. Never had silence felt so comfortable to him, or conversation so easy. Once he got over his initial caution in regards to speaking, he quickly learned that Marco didn't care what he said. Even if Jean were to say something negative about Marco's beliefs, the boy would simply explain why Jean was wrong, and then let it go.
Still, Jean didn't bring religion up much around the other teen. Beyond his uncertainty in regards to Paganism, he also saw Marco as the only person he didn't have to be religious around. While faith was something he kept with him at all times, it was not something he wanted to talk about all the time. And Marco respected that, letting Jean pick whatever topic he liked.
But Jean started to learn what Marco was interested in. The boy liked flowers, and animals, and cooking. He liked to get his hands dirty, liked to plant things, liked to raise things. But he also liked to read, and daydream, and draw. There were so few things Marco didn't do that Jean found himself overwhelmed by the sheer number.
He always made an attempt to get Marco talking about something he liked. It wasn't always successful, but it was obvious when he'd managed it. Marco's eyes would light up, and his lips would move quickly with rapid words, his voice getting higher in pitch, his motions seeming almost fidgety. Jean liked it when he got like that.
Marco would always stop after a bit, very suddenly, and his face would flush as he realized that he'd started ranting. And he'd apologize, and change the subject, and he never believed Jean when he said he didn't mind. It was a nice friendship, nonetheless.
One day, Jean asked Marco about girls. And maybe that was his first mistake. Or maybe it was one of many. Maybe it wasn't a mistake at all, but, at the time, it definitely felt like one.
Marco brushed it off. Tried to, anyway.
"Ah, no, I'm not interested in courting any of the girls in town." He'd replied sheepishly, the middle knuckle of his first finger finding its way to his lips in what Jean had learned was his nervous gesture. It had his brow quirked.
"None of them?" He wondered, wiping his brow. He was in the middle of helping Marco move some fodder for the cows, and it was harder than he'd expected. Marco shook his head.
"No, none of them." He confirmed quickly, already returning for another armful. Jean looked at him with wonder and a bit of exasperation. He wasn't sure if Marco was lying, or was simply stretching the truth.
"That's too bad. You're pretty handsome, you know." Jean offered, not missing the red that flared across the tan boy's skin, spidering outward from his face like ivy, showing even on his neck. He refused to look back towards Jean.
"You shouldn't tease me. Even if I did like someone, they wouldn't reciprocate." Marco pointed out. "I'm not exactly the most pursued bachelor in town." He added. Jean shrugged, clapping his shoulder.
"You'll never know if you don't try!" He suggested, grinning. Marco rolled his eyes, thrusting another armful of fodder into the teen's arms.
"I know. Now hush, before I bring up Mikasa." He warned. Jean only smiled.
"Go ahead, bring her up!" He taunted, following Marco back towards the cows. The tan boy only sighed.
"That's another conversation for another day." He replied softly. The way he said it was offsetting.
"Why? Let's talk about her now." Jean pressed, dropping the dried grass. Marco frowned, looking at Jean as he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. Jean mirrored the expression, lips falling into a frown. "Hey, what's the matter? Do you not like Mikasa or something?" He inquired, watching Marco frantically shake his head.
"That's not it, Jean. I like Mikasa just fine. She's a very nice girl. It's just…" He began, trailing off. Jean groaned.
"Just?" He prompted. Marco sighed.
"It's just… I don't think it's going to work out between the two of you." He finally said. Jean's mind came to a crashing halt, staring at the other teen as if he'd grown a third arm. What did that mean?
"Why would you say that?" He questioned, gaze hardening. "Where did that even come from? You don't know Mikasa." He pointed out. Marco only looked away, brows knit together.
"I… It's just a feeling." He said, voice small and quiet. Jean only looked on in confusion.
"A feeling?" He repeated, as if for clarity. Marco nodded. Maybe it was stupid of him to get so worked up over a feeling. But, the thing about Marco's 'feelings' was that they were usually right. "What right do you have to make that assumption?" He demanded. Marco winced.
"I'm sorry Jean. I'm not going to take it back though." He replied. "I simply don't think that the two of you would work together. You aren't compatible." He explained. That only made Jean angrier.
"And how would you know?" He asked, voice rising. "Are you some kind of expert on this, all of a sudden?"
Marco didn't answer, looking down at his old, dirty shoes. No matter what Jean shouted at him, he wouldn't reply. And so, in a huff, Jean left. He ran home, ignoring his parents, locking himself in his room with his anger and uncertainty.
It was the first time he'd ever been mad at Marco. They got along so well, and he'd honestly believed that they would remain on civil terms for the rest of their lives. But Marco had said something so blatantly rude, so hateful. Maybe he didn't mean anything by it, but the words stung at Jean's heart. And surely Marco, who knew of Jean's feelings for Mikasa, should have known that his words were unwanted. So why had he said them?
And, Jean had to wonder, why was he so affected by them? It was speculation at best. From anyone else, he'd have taken it at face value, would have laughed it off. But he considered Marco a close friend. He wasn't sure when they'd passed that boundary of acquaintances and entered this new level, but they had. And the words meant more coming from someone he was close to.
And Marco was always right. Not once had something the boy said not come to pass. Not once had one of his 'feelings' been off the mark.
But Jean was determined not to let the words deter him. In fact, they gave him a new sense of courage. After washing up for the night and eating supper, he vowed to see Mikasa the very next day. He hadn't visited in a while, and he thought it was about time he ask her to enter a true courtship with him. He'd prove Marco wrong.
When morning came, he went straight to Levi's home, getting to work early to distract him from the guilt of not seeing Marco. Surely the boy was worried about their spat the day before, and, honestly, Jean wanted to make up with him. But he had a point to prove, and he wouldn't see Marco again until Mikasa had agreed to court him.
When he'd finished with work for the day, he headed over to the Jaeger residence, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he waited for someone to answer his knocking at the door. He nearly lost his nerve when it was Mikasa herself that answered, looking at him shortly before opening the door to let him in. She led him into the sitting room, making him some tea before sitting down.
"Where is everyone?" He asked, noting the eerie quiet of the home.
"Eren is with Armin, and Grisha took Carla to the market." She replied easily. He nodded, sipping at the provided tea, cup shaking in his hand a bit. He couldn't find words, and, eventually, Mikasa grew bored with his silence, sighing heavily.
"Jean," She began, putting her cup down. He gave her his attention. "I understand why you are here." She said, and his eyes widened. "I'm no fool; I realize that you seek my attentions." She informed him, not letting him drop his gaze.
"While I appreciate your fondness for me, I cannot say that I return it." She admitted, and Jean's heart sunk. "You are very charming, Jean, and you are nice company to keep when Eren isn't around. But I cannot say that I will ever think of you romantically. I'm sorry." She continued.
Jean deflated, the teacup finding its saucer with a too-loud clattering of china meeting china. Mikasa sighed again, folding her hands over her lap.
"It's not that you are not attractive in looks or personality. But I'm not particularly interested in having a relationship with anyone at this point. And I don't want to allow your affections to grow when I know I'll never return them. I am sorry, Jean, and I hope you'll understand." She finished. Jean could only stare at her for a long time, then he nodded shakily.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, that's your choice." He said, more for himself than for her. It was still sinking in for him, slowly, too slowly. He didn't know what to feel yet. "And, anyway, we're not… Compatible." He blurted, shocking himself with the words. They weren't his.
Marco's face flashed through his mind. The hesitance of the day before, the hurt and resignation as Jean yelled at him. The words. Marco's words. He was right. He was always right.
Mikasa only nodded, collecting Jean's teacup with hers.
"I'm glad you understand." She said, taking the cups to the kitchen. Jean sat, trying to remember how to think, how to use his limbs. He finally got up as she returned, and she walked him to the door. "I'm sorry that I can't return your feelings, Jean. But you can still visit." She added, giving him a small smile. "Like I said, you're fine company."
He nodded, walking out stiffly, legs moving as they pleased instead of in accordance to his wishes. He found himself at the low fence before he could even convince his mind to comprehend that he was moving. Marco was waiting, sitting in the grass near the fence, and he stood when Jean stopped in front of the wood.
They simply looked at each other for a long time, then Jean stepped over the fence, and followed Marco behind the house. And he fell into his arms, and squeezed too hard, and fought the tears stinging at his eyes. Marco said nothing, patting his back softly, letting him cry into his shoulder so that the rest of the world wouldn't be able to see. He offered no words of consolation, of sympathy. But nor did he point out that he'd been right all along, that Jean had been wrong. He just offered his silent comfort.
When Jean had finished, they went to the meadow again. Jean laid himself down in the grass, curling his limbs towards his body and closing his tired eyes. Marco remained near, but he moved about, almost circling. Jean didn't bother to open his eyes. It didn't matter what the boy was doing.
He dozed, the tears having made him groggy and lethargic. And he didn't care if he slept through dinner. He didn't care if he slept through the rest of his life, as long as Marco's presence was always there at the edge of his consciousness, waiting for him to wake up.
He stirred when he felt someone rubbing his back, lashes fluttering against the grass, lips smacking a few times as he forced his stiff body to stretch and pop. Marco smiled down at him when he finally rolled onto his back, eyes open. He yawned, which earned a little chuckle.
"Good morning." Marco cooed softly, as if speaking too loud would hurt Jean any more. Jean only grumbled a bit, sighing as he located the sun, already sinking toward the horizon.
"I should go." He pointed out, sitting up. Marco nodded, standing as Jean did. He walked him to the fence, but stopped him before he could go to the other side.
He bent over, taking a small bunch of daffodils from behind one of the fence posts, where Jean had been unable to see them. He was surprised, but took the offered flowers, staring at them. Marco smiled, shooing him away before he could ask any questions.
It didn't take him long to get home, and he had to make up some excuse as to why he had a bouquet. But he eventually managed to locate a vase, and filled it with water, taking the flowers up to his room. He placed them near the window, so they could get sun during the day.
Marco had taught him that all flowers had meaning. While he'd usually think it strange to receive flowers from another boy, it was different with Marco. He was using the flowers to say something he couldn't with words. But what could daffodils mean? They were bright, almost glowing. Perhaps they were to show sympathy, or to help him get his spirits up?
He'd have to ask.
A/N: I was technically supposed to update my EreMin story next, but I was just feeling this. Maybe it's the rosehip tea.
Regardless, here is chapter four. Once again, it might seem like not much happened, and I guess you could say that this also something of a bridge chapter. But if you really pay attention, you might notice something that's going to be very important down the road. Keep that in mind. Nothing in this story happens without reason.
So, just a heads up: I just found a place to live! We're signing the lease on Monday, and then we'll be moving in shortly after that! The reason that I mention this is because I'll probably be very busy with getting packed, and unpacked, etc. The place comes with internet, but it still might take me a while to get settled in enough to post again.
I'm going to have to work more to keep up with the rent, also. I'll likely be taking longer shifts, which means less free time. That's not to say I won't update, just try to have patience as I get everything sorted out. Once I get at least the basics set up at my place, I'll start getting chapters up again. I'd anticipate a few weeks wait. Thanks for the understanding.
So, I've gotten a lot of really great comments, and as always, I just want to say that I seriously appreciate them. It means a lot to me that you guys take the time to leave such thoughtful feedback. I was really scared that this story wouldn't really translate well with readers, but you have all been incredible perceptive of what I'm trying to convey. I'm so glad for that.
Alright, thanks for reading. As always, feedback is incredibly helpful, and I can never get enough. I love to hear what you guys think. And I'm happy to explain anything that might have you confused. Even if you just want to discuss something, I'm happy to do that too.
Off I go. I've work tomorrow, so I should probably get some rest. Thanks again!
KuroRiya
九六りや