Hey you, yeah you, I just saw an email of you following this story :'D thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

EIGHTY-ONE

-"So, you love my boy, huh?"

I gulped and tried to look anywhere that wasn't the man's eyes, -"Y-yeah... I do."- I dunno why I was in some closeted room with no windows or door whatsoever.

-"Why do you love him?"- I felt like I was being interrogated for a bigger purpose than getting to know me. The man before me was my boyfriend's father. His freckled cheeks wrinkled as he examined me.

-"I...,"- I stuttered, feeling my neck sweaty. I ran my hand through it and gulped once again. Fuck, it's so hot in here, -"Um, because he's my only best friend, the only one who really cares about me."

Marco's father raised an eyebrow and scribbled something on his notebook, -"And why did you do it?"

His harsh voice scared me, told me something horrible happened outside these walls, -"Did what?"- A lump formed in my throat and I tried to clear it off.

He slapped close the notebook and lunged towards me with tears in his eyes. He gripped my shoulder and jolted me aggressively, -"Killed him!"- He cried out, shaking me more briskly, -"Why did you kill him!?"

My eyes widened and my whole body froze in place, -"I-I... what?"- He dug some pictures out of his pocket and showed them to me. My breathing hindered as he passed them through my eyes, one by one. In them, I saw Marco's neck snapped and his legs twisted, blood dripping from his mouth and pooling beneath his cheeks. My heart began to throb rapidly as my head ached, -"Wh-what happened? I-I don't remember any of this! I would never-"

-"Maybe this will refresh your memory."- He dug out one final picture in which I was... pushing Marco off the roof of our school.

I felt my heart pierced with a sharp, cool needle as I took in the picture. That... was definitely me; auburn messy hair, toned body, brown eyes...

I can't breathe. I squeezed my chest from the sudden pull and panted heavily, -"No, no, no...,"- I rambled on, shaking my head vigorously, denying it all, -"I would never do something like that to him! Never!"

Marco's father slumped back onto the chair, -"But you did, Jean. You're a murderer, a devil, a ruffian. You hurt him when you claimed you loved him, you betrayed him and broke him. You killed my son!"

Each word pierced my heart and kicked me off my sanity, -"No, no, no, no!"- I gripped my hair and pulled on it, screaming in denial over and over, -"That wasn't me, I can't be me! I'll never do something like that to him! I love him and I do anything-"

The man shut me up by pressing his gun against my forehead. I stood rigidly at the cold metal against my warm skin, -"I should kill you...,"- I gulped and began to sweat madly as he pressed the trigger slowly, but suddenly, he stopped, took a deep breath and stood up, retaining his gun back in its sheath, -"But you don't even deserve death... you deserve to suffer and you will rot in here."- He pointed the gun at my leg.

-"No, wait!"- He pulled the trigger and I screamed in agony as the bullet drilled my leg. My cry almost matched the rattling sound of the shot. I bent forward and cried, staring down at the cascade of blood dripping from my leg and trough my fingers shrouding the wound.

-"Look at your hands, Jean."

And I did, but I didn't saw my blood. I saw..., -"No, don't leave me!"- But when I looked up, he vanished, out of thin air, and I was left with my own screams of agony and grief. With my fears and blood, and not only mines but Marco's too.

I stared at my quivering hands and the more I did, the thicker the blood got. I tried to tell myself otherwise, but... it's Marco's blood, I knew at the back of my mind that I had my love's blood in my hands. I chafed my bloody hands against my pant to clean the blood off, but it stays there. I can't clean it and instead I severed my hands! -"No, no, no, this can't be happening to me!"- By impulse, I propelled up from the chair I was on, but had forgotten I got shot in the leg and tumbled down. The moment I did, my face met with a liquid surface ad unintentionally, I got some in my mouth and tasted it. Is it... blood?!

I perked my head up and saw an immense pool of blood around me. I screamed and tried to stand up, but...

-"Jean..."

I gasped, -"Marco...?"- I cranked my head slowly at the call, following the blood trail with my eyes until... until...

-"Jean... why..."

I shook my head, -"No..."- This can't be happening. This can't be real. Marco's twisted and bloody corpse in the distance was talking to me.

-"Jean... you did this to me..."

-"No, please..."- I crawled away. No, no, no, no, no, this isn't real!

-"Jean..."- My boyfriend's corpse began to sit up.

-"No! Stay down!"- I struggled to drag my body with my arms and one leg.

-"Why...,"- His whispers invaded my ears and made every nerve in my body rise up; his voice was full of agony, grief and so much pain as he approached me, dragging one leg, his head twisted and with his wry arms, he reached for me, -"I thought you... loved me..."

Oh God, make this nightmare end, I beg you! -"I do, Marco... so much..."

-"Then why...,"- He leaned down to me and I went stiff as his bloody hands touched my face's side. I wanted to scream, beg for help as Marco began to twist my neck, -"I love you..."- My vision got blurry as pain soared through me, hindering me speechless.

Wake up, goddamit!

-"M-Marco... s-stop..."- I muttered, despite my nonexistent air, but Marco didn't cease his grip on my neck or the wringing, -"P-please..."- It hurts, it hurts so much. I could see my last breath drifting away from my mouth and I could feel death on the verge. Is this... how Marco felt when I pushed him? I deserve this, I-

Tears escaped my eyelids when a crack sound echoed and darkness shrouded me.

Marco... I'm sorry...

-"Marco!"- I sat up from the bed and covered my face. I was shaking vehemently and I was sweating nonstop. I felt the sheets around me drenched with sweat and I pushed them away as I dismounted the bed. Bad idea. The moment my foot made contact with the floor, I stumbled and hit my forehead against the desk's fringe, -"Fuck!"- I cursed. Even my legs are shaking.

Just then, the door shrieked open and a gasp followed after, -"Jean! Are you alright?"

That voice... maybe wasn't the one I needed to hear right now. I kept having flashing images of his dead body crawling towards me like he did right now, with a hand reaching for me and all. I shook even more, -"No, h-hold on...!"- Come on, snap out of it. It wasn't real.

Marco halted, reluctantly, and just stood there, -"Jean... what's wrong? I can help you."

-"Just... gimme a minute."- I gulped and tried to shake the image from my mind. I sat on the floor against the bed and placed a hand on my forehead. It was still shaking, but the more times I breathed deeply, the more it subsided.

Marco approached me closer, -"What happened?"- He placed his hand on my cheek and I shook once again, remembering how his dead body did the same thing to snap my neck in my nightmare.

I shoved his hand away, as gently as I could, -"W-wait, Marco..."- I was scared as hell, but I can't treat Marco like a total stranger or a murderer. I have to snap out of the nightmare. It wasn't real.

Marco was a bit devastated at my seclusion from him, but he held on and nodded, waiting for me to calm down. I repeated 'it wasn't real' a thousand times in my head while breathing deeply, forcing myself to realize reality. Back at the hospital, I had these nightmares too and they were all torturing me with Marco's imminent death if I hadn't saved him. I really thought I was done with those, but I'm wrong once again. This nightmare was the worst of them all; I killed Marco, I was the one who pushed him off the roof and then he came to kill me back, snapping my neck like I've done to him. It was horrible. I felt my stomach churn.

I looked at Marco because I had to see him so that I could realize he was alive and safe, that I didn't kill him and that I'd never do something like that to him. I extended my hand to him and he quickly took it to embrace me tightly. I really needed his warmth... I felt it emanating from him and shrouding me, clearing my cold body and the terrifying images, -"Marco... I'm sorry..."

Marco hushed me and squeezed me tighter, -"It's okay, Jean. I'm here with you. You're not alone."

We embraced each other for God knows how long until Marco suggested I should stand up and move around. We went downstairs and I then realized it was midnight. Marco rummaged around the fridge for something to drink while I stared at the dead TV before me, glumly. Marco popped and sat beside me afterward, -"Water?"

I nodded and quaffed down the cool water with one gulp.

-"Easy, Jean."- He prompted, taking the glass and placing it on the small table before us after I finished. He chafed his wet hands on his pajama trousers and gazed at me, observing me and my every expression.

I slacked onto the sofa and breathed deeply, rubbing my eyes with my fingers.

-"Better now?"- He asked, massively worried about me. I saw how his eyes widened in distress when he saw me on the floor, struggling to stand up when he came in the room. I just realized, though, despite Marco's evident dudgeon at me, he came to check up on me and I dare say more than once. I have a slight memory of spotting a figure peeking through the small gap of the door.

I swallowed and nodded, -"Yeah...,"- I gazed at him and smiled, -"... especially now that you're here."

Marco smiled too, tenderly, as he stroked my back, -"I... I was worried about you..."- His cheeks lit up despite the dim light in the living room.

-"How many times did you checked up on me?"- I smirked with a bit of effort. My lips just wanted to slug down.

He gasped and blushed even more, -"Y-you saw me?"

I nodded slowly.

He looked away, lips pouted and all, flustered about it. He checked up on me but didn't want me to realize. I dunno who's making a big deal out of this, really.

-"You're still mad at me, huh."- I sighed and looked up. I'm still set on the decision. We're not going anywhere near that hell and what I'm doing might seem like I'm tying him up, forcing him to do something I say, but it's for his own good. Marco enjoys his liberty and I'm taking it away from him… more or less. He could still go wherever he likes, except that school –oh and I have to go with him. He might just "slip" away.

Marco sighed too, -"A bit, but… it doesn't matter. You do."

I smiled at that, -"You're adorable,"- I quipped and tied my hand's finger with his, -"I'm… sorry for worrying you like that. I just… had another nightmare."- Oh no, I felt my throat lump up again.

-"Jean… I…"- Marco had also thought I wouldn't get any more of those and I know what he's thinking; that all this talk about going back to school triggered it and I admit, I think so too. Hence, why he's looking down glumly, blaming himself.

-"Marco, hey,"- I placed my hand on his chin and raised his head, looking straight at his eyes next, -"It's fine. Don't blame yourself, okay? You couldn't have known. It'll… pass."

He knew better. His lips fringe's contorted into a disagreement.

-"Was it… bad?"

I can't lie to him, -"Yeah… pretty fucking bad."

-"How… bad?"- He was curious but also terrified. He hasn't seen me so shaken up before by a dream. I usually manage to stay in place, calm down and know reality, but this time, it took me awhile and I was shaking as if I was in the north pole.

I breathed deeply and began to narrate my dream to him: his father interrogating me about his son's death, that I was the murderer, that he then shot my leg so I wouldn't escape the room with any windows whatsoever, his corpse lifting up and finally, killing me.

Marco's eyes were wide and he was covering his mouth.

-"Yeah… horrible."- I slacked onto the sofa again after having the need to lean forward and move around so that I wouldn't lose myself to tears.

-"Jean…"- But Marco couldn't hold any. He cried into his hands and bent forwards, sobbing nonstop. The whole story shook him, but the part where he killed me and his father's sole presence were the ones that prevailed.

-"Marco, please don't cry. It wasn't real. None of it."- And he knew that better than anyone from all the panic attacks he suffered (which were like three), but it was difficult to just brush it off. Not only I was involved and killed by his own dead hands, his father, once a police and an honorable man, was there and that just multiplies the effect. Marco, unlike his mother, hasn't fully gotten over it. He still mourns over him and gets touchy when he's brought up and it's been years.

I was gonna come up with something else to say, but Marco composed himself and breathed deeply, chafing his hands against his eyes to wipe off the tears, -"I know, Jean, and he wouldn't do something like that and I wouldn't either."

I smiled, proudly, -"Yeah, you're right."

-"And you wouldn't do that either."

-"You betcha'."- He knew, more than anyone else, the lengths I'd go for him to protect him.

-"I'm sorry for everything. I was a whiny kid, but it's over,"- He said, clenching his hands firmly, -"I should've realized sooner that you were trying to protect us both, but I was blind and ungrateful. I won't insist anymore, Jean. I don't want to go."

I knew him and I knew he decided not to want anymore because I didn't want him to, -"That's… a real relief, Marco. I'm glad you understand."- And he does understand.

-"Now just try to sleep, okay?"- I rubbed my cheeks and pecked my forehead.

-"I wanna sleep with you."

He smiled tenderly and stood up, taking my hand with his and pulling me upstairs. We slept together, cozily cocooned within Marco's warm and fragrant quilts. We snuggled, our arms and legs around each other while we stocked our hairs until we fell asleep.

Seriously, warm morning with the delectable smell of bacon and toast was plain amazing.

Oh, and add to that my boyfriend's vanilla fragrant.

I yawned and stretched my body. I patted the area around me, looking for my boyfriend but I didn't feel anything, -"Marco…?"

Just then, the door shrieked open, -"Morning, Jean."

I sat up and yawned again, rubbing my eyes open. I spotted my boyfriend in his pajama, tray in hand and placing it on my lap. I licked my lips at the perfectly rounded omelet with melted cheese and chopped bacon on top, -"Oh man, looks delicious as fuck. Your mom's the best."- I exclaimed and took a chunk of the egg with my fork.

Marco chuckled at my description of my breakfast, -"I made it, actually."

I gazed at him and his cheeks flushed. With my mouth full, I leaned close to him, pouting my lips for a kiss. He chuckled and pushed me with his finger on my lips, -"Why don't you swallow first, hm?"

I swallowed and exhaled in delight, -"Man, your cooking's rad,"- I leaned close to him again and pecked his lips, -"You ate already?"

He shook his head and stood up, -"Nope, but I'll get my plate. Be right back."- He left, closing the door behind him.

After a few minutes, he came back and while we ate, we prattled on and on. Marco looked more… cheery today after what happened last night and, well, yesterday. He finally understood in depth what me and his mom's intention when we didn't allow him to go to school: protect him. He was also pissed at me for selling him out to his mom yesterday evening. Jerky of me, I know, but I had to let her know that Marco still wanted to go out there and we can't let him pull such a feast. He's gonna get himself killed and I'm not joking.

Other than that, I had a horrible nightmare in which I was the one who pushed Marco off that ceiling and his father was making me pay for it. He shot me in the leg so that I wouldn't escape from…

Oh, now I get it and I don't feel good about it. He didn't shoot me so that I wouldn't escape from a room with no windows or door, he shot me because he didn't want me to escape from Marco. Said guy's dead body stood and snapped my neck before I could crawl away. I shivered.

-"So, yeah, mom's not here."- He suddenly asserted, toying with his bed's sheet coyly.

I grinned, snapping off of my thoughts, -"And…?"

Marco gazed at me and bit his lips. He leaned closer to me and murmured, -"Let's do something…"

-"Something, huh,"- I jiggled my eyebrows and poked his waist playfully. He giggled and instead of pulling away, he leaned closer to me so I could touch him even more, -"How about… Netflix and Chill?"

He nodded and scurried his hands up my thigh. I was sitting on his bed crossed legged so he could perfectly see my growing hard-on already, -"Okay. I pick the movie and you pick… you know."

I nodded knowingly, -"Yeah boy."

I turned the TV and Marco connected his laptop to it by HDMI. He typed Netflix on his browser while I set up our comfy zone like usual. I scattered his sheets and quilts on the floor and laid the pillows on them. While Marco kept working, I went downstairs and picked whatever snack I found in the fridge or the cabinets like Oreo, Nutella, Lays, Chips Ahoy, Ben and Jerry's chocolate and vanilla ice-cream, M&M and other chocolate bars –oh, and Popcorn. It's pretty obvious Marco's mother feeds his sweet tooth.

I walked upstairs and literally dropped all the sweets on him –yeah, he's already on our comfy spot. He chuckled and patted the space beside him.

I laid beside him and between us, he placed the sweets so we could have better reach to it, -"So, whaddya got?"

He clicked on his laptop and when Justice League popped up, I squealed like a fangirl, -"Holy shit, Marco!"- I exclaimed, pointing at it, -"That's like old as fuck! I used to see that every day when I was a kiddo!"

Marco giggled and hasten closer to me, -"I know, it's why I selected it."- He rested his head on my chest while scooping from the ice cream cup with a wide spoon.

While the opening song resonated across the room and the starred superheroes silhouettes showed up, I hopped in place, -"Holy fuck, I feel old."

My boyfriend chuckled and offered me ice cream. I opened my mouth, eyes carved on the TV, and sucked the sweet chocolate cream out of the spoon –oh, and on purpose, I lick Marco's fingers and he liked it, a lot.

As we watched the series, we gave each other several hand jobs. Marco was over me and I had my hand deep in his groin, my fingers playing with his cock and nuts while he jerked it. Marco's moans filled the room and all three times he came, he splattered cum onto the sheets and surprisingly ignored it as he swapped to please me next.

Hours passed and Marco finished from one sweet and opened the other instantly. I had my arms around him, -"Hey, babe, you should be careful eating those. You know how your tummy gets. Do you want another suppository up your ass?"- I jibed.

-"I wouldn't mind it…"- He murmured, right beside my ear and it took me by utter surprise. I could smell his sweet breath and I couldn't stop wondering how sweet his cum must be now. Oh boy.

His lewd words prickled my skin and they made me wanna shove my fingers in his ass, made me wanna suck his cock and taste his cum. I pulled him closer to me until my mouth was near his ear, -"I bet you won't…,"- I gulped at the hotness in my throat as I licked his earlobe playfully, educing deep moans from my boyfriend, -"You know, we should take our clothes off, just so that we can be more… ahem, comfortable."

Marco nodded briskly and we literally took all our clothes off and threw them somewhere around us. Underwear and shorts flew and Marco curled around me; he threw his leg over mine and wrapped his arms around my chest, scraping his finger on my sweaty back with passion. I held onto his thigh, squeezing his chunks of flesh, and rose it even higher, pulling his hips close to mines until our cocks grazed. There was literally no space between us as we kissed madly and hungrily, ravenous for each other's lips. We shared saliva, our tongues embroiled and our breath passed to each other's mouth. Our bodies' sweat glued us together and the hot atmosphere was driving me crazy. I wanted… I wanted to… -fuck, we're so fucking heavy and hot right now and I want to get even hotter. I want to fuck him so bad…!

We moaned at the same time as I, kinda losing my lust restraint, began to lunge my hips back and forth against him and Marco, kinda losing his too, began jerking his hips too, in the same pace while fondling my back thoroughly. I can't get harder than this, I can't get more turned on than this. My body vibrated for more. I want him to feel me more…

Marco was as hard as I was. Our dicks grazed each other, spewing cum onto our groins continuously, and this is gonna sound kinky and cringy, but it's like they called for each other.

I'm sorry. I had to say it. It's just how I felt.

Both out of breath, we parted and took a hard intake of breath before kissing each other's skin. Like always, I kissed and sucked on his neck, absorbing his sweat. I nibbled on it and sucked harshly, ushering him to bit the skin on my shoulder hard, just how I liked it. He moaned and his hot breath against my skin pricked it and made my body shook. We rolled as I licked his neck up and down, leaving a trail of drool dripping while he kissed and bit my chin lecherously. He then wondered lowered and kissed my apple, sucking on it harshly, making it vibrate vigorously as I moaned next.

I can't take it anymore.

With Marco beneath me, I gripped my dick and hovered it near his groin, -"Jean…,"- He murmured, his voice hoarse as he panted, -"W-wait…"

-"Marco… I can't hold it anymore."- But I halted my movements. I gotta calm down this lust. If Marco doesn't want to have sex with me now, I can't force him –I won't.

But fuuuuck…

-"B-but we're not… equipped…"

That was true and yet… I still want to do it and I know Marco wants it too, -"Marco…"- I gulped and drew my dick nearer. No, Jean! Control yourself! You know it's not safe without those!

But come on, it's not like I have an STD. I mean, I've never had sex with anyone before so I have to be clean, right? Also, if I'm infected, then Marco, by far, is infected too. We've had plenty of oral sex, haven't we? And he's looking just fine.

It's different! You're also forgetting the simple fact that many STD can be inherited from parents, Jean!

Mom and Dad never had an STD… not that I know of. If they have, they never told me.

You'll be risking his health, Jean. Safety comes first.

I let out a long, difficult sight and parted from him reluctantly.

He propelled up, supporting his body with his elbow on the splattered quilts, -"Jean…,"- He bit his lips and breathed deeply, his body and face utterly red, -"Maybe we can…"

-"No, it's… okay. I'm okay, but,"- I drew my face closer to his groin, -"I'm not leaving empty-handed."

Marco smiled and slumped against the pillows as I blew him.

More hours passed and we still laid together on our little comfy zone. Marco's mother hasn't arrived yet and before she did, we cleaned the sheets and they're currently drying up, -"Hey, Jean."- Marco called, tugging my shirt for attention. Yeah, we had our pajamas on to avoid wild moments like before, but we still did our thing from time to time.

-"Hmm?"- I had my eyes on the TV, watching Gotham and focusing on every word these detectives said, but really, I was getting lost. These complicated plots aren't my thing.

-"About before…,"- He began and I had to pause the series for him to continue, -"I… I want to do it sometimes, so maybe… I-I thought we… could buy those stuff… together."- He fidgeted with my shirt shyly.

I smiled and rubbed his hair, -"Deal."

-"Really?"- He gazed up at me, expecting me to deny it or something. Usually, at least here in Trost, one of the pairs does the shopping for condoms and whatnot because for starters, they get embarrassed and that means that person isn't entirely confident with his significant other. That's what I've seen so far and maybe that's why Marco expected me to say something else, but I'm not embarrassed.

-"'Course, babe. Just say the day and I'll take us there."

Marco smiled broadly and hugged me firmly.

It's passed eve already and Marco's mother hasn't arrived yet. After Marco folded the once dirty sheets, he dialed her number and sat on the couch, jerking his legs anxiously.

I sat beside him and placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly, -"She's fine. I know she is."

Marco sighed, extremely worried still, -"It's just… so weird. I know a psychologist's working hours are arbitrary, but she always calls me and lets me know."

He has a point, -"True enough, but maybe she's just busy."

-"I hope so."

But just then, sharp car lights illuminated the living room and revs rattled. Sky, Marco's bitchy husky, barked and jumped at her arrival. Marco gasped and stood up, opening the front door and greeting her with a tight hug. When she came in, exhausted, she dropped her purse on the table and I greeted her next with a hug too, -"How are you, boys?"

I couldn't help but look at Marco with a knowing look. Timely, he gazed at me too and smiled. We're just fiiiine.

She chuckled, probably guessing we had done something naughty, -"I figured,"- She took off her med coat and hooked it on the near hanger on the wall, -"Are you hungry? I was thinking of preparing a soup."

Marco quickly shook his head, -"You don't have to, mom. I'll think of something. Just rest."

She smiled tenderly and placed her hand on his head, -"Thank you,"- She then turned to me, -"I'll trust you to keep an eye on him, okay?"

I nodded briskly, -"Yes, ma'am."

After she left, Marco cooked a nice soup with chopped pork and ham. He delivered a bowl to his mom up her bedroom and when he came down, I saw him worried again, -"She seems so down..."

I slurped the soup's liquid from my spoon, -"What do you mean?"

-"I dunno… like she's sad –and exhausted too."- Marco prodded the pork chunks with his spoon absentmindedly.

-"Hey,"- I placed my spoon on top of the napkin and took his hand, -"Relax, that's part of a psychologist's job and I'm positive she knows what it takes. Maybe one of her patients' really sick, but I'm sure she'll get over it. She has to, for the sake of her other patients."

Marco sighed. He knew that already.

-"She's strong, Marco."- With this, I aimed at the hard times she must have gone through when her husband died.

And Marco quickly noticed, his perception as sharp as always, -"Yeah…"

He seemed more confident after that and we went to sleep like at 1 in the morning watching more Netflix and making out –without getting too hot and heavy.

~ o ~

The next day after breakfast, Marco reminded me I should do workout and I trotted around the neighbor shirtless. I made a few stops to drink water and continued, completely ignoring the odd looks I was getting. At home, Marco was reading one of the books I bought him and when he heard the door shriek, he stood up and dropped his book, -"You're back!"

-"Yup and I'm really in for a hot bath,"- I flexed my muscles and lean ever so closely to him, -"And of course you're invited, babe."

Marco chuckled and tugged my sweat pants, -"I humbly accept."

I snorted at that, -"You're such a dork, Marco."

He chuckled again before taking my hand and leading me upstairs to his bathroom. We took our clothes off just as soon as we got in and Marco was running his fingers through my v-line, steadily turning me on. I got both his bun and squeezed them playfully, pushing Marco to me. We kissed ravenously under the shower, our bodies glued to the other as we shared breath and saliva. Eventually, we got hard and hot, both due to the steam of the hot water and because, well, we're hot. We fapped and blew each other like three times before we relaxed and took an actual bath.

-"By the way, is your mom up?"- I asked as he washed my hair, making foam drip from me.

Marco sighed, -"No… I mean, not when I woke up. Her breakfasts still in the oven."

Well, that's really worrisome. Celine's a morning person no matter how tired she was the previous day.

-"I'm sure she'll wake up soon. It's Sunday, everyone likes to sleep a bit on Sundays and I think she really needs a break."- I spoke and spit foam out of my mouth, coughing.

-"Yeah…"

-"Talk to her. I bet it's nice for a parent to vent off to their kids."- That sounded like I've never experience it and it's true, I haven't. Mom kept things to herself and Dad was always working 24/7 so he couldn't really take a few minutes to talk to me.

-"I-I will."

We got out after a few minutes of prattling and washing. Around noon, Marco's mother woke up and I saw how tired she really was, like those additional hours of sleep did nothing. Something was odd. This was really odd of her but I guess stuff get people eventually. I can imagine the shit psychologist go through and that adage that they go loony sooner or later is actually true. I mean, it gotta stick, right? The madness and suffering of others.

-"Good morning boys."- She greeted, yawning while rubbing her eyes.

-"Hey, mom, how are you feeling?"- Marco quickly hugged her, like always.

-"I'm a bit tired, but I'll be alright, sweetheart."- She tussled his hair and smiled tenderly, trying to reassure him that she's alright when I can see that that's not the case. Marco saw it too. Call me a jerk, but I think she's lying, keeping something from us.

Marco didn't pry, probably thinking she'd speak to him sooner or later about what's really troubling her, -"I made you breakfast. It's in the oven."

She nodded and sauntered towards the oven. She pulled her plate of pancake, poured syrup on it and sat on the table, -"You know what will really be good with this? Hot chocolate."

Marco quirked an eyebrow, -"Umm… really?"

-"Yes! And not just any, Fray's!"

Okay? Was she on her period or…?

-"Um… want me to buy you one? It's not really far."- Marco offered, scratching his neck's sides, wondering what got into her. He's probably thinking the same as I: hot chocolate is a thing for cold days –or night. This was either a hankering or… she wanted us out of the house temporarily.

Okay, I shouldn't have thought that.

-"Please, I'd appreciate it!"- She then nodded to me, -"Go with him, please, and if something happens, call me, okay? I know you can take care of yourself, but don't hesitate on calling me."

-"I'll go,"- I offered, placing a hand on Marco's shoulder, indirectly telling him to go with the current and I think he got it. I wanna test something, -"So that Marco can keep an eye on you."

She quickly shook her head, -"Don't worry boys, I'm alright, really."

-"But-"

I gave Marco another squeeze.

He sighed, -"Okay, we'll be back in a few."

Marco and I headed out and my boyfriend had this thoughtful look that really didn't mix with his cute face, -"She's hiding something, isn't she?"

-"You catch up quick and yeah, that's what I think."- I kicked a pebble and strode with my hands on my pocket.

-"But that can't be. Why would she hide something from me?"- Marco couldn't fathom this and I can understand him. They're confided each other a lot and Marco trusts her for everything –same vice versa. Up until now, Celine had told him all her issues with her patients and her feelings towards them. All in all, it's really weird of her and Marco didn't like it at all.

-"Maybe she's just… trying to protect you?"- But from what? It has to be something serious.

-"From what?"

-"I… I dunno, Marco, there's a bunch of psychos out there she could have nursed before."- And this a fact.

Marco looked at with a quirked eyebrow and a look that said 'what the fuck are you talking about?' -"What? Mom only works with children."

Oh.

-"Shit, that's true. I forgot."- And that just made this even worse.

-"This is so weird and frustrating!"- Marco was waving his arms in exasperation, totally distraught about this.

-"You know, maybe we're making a big deal out of this, maybe she's not hiding anything and just really wants the hot chocolate, maybe she's on her pe-"

-"We should hurry, Jean, so that we can catch why she wanted to stay alone."- He said, interrupting me and trotting forward. Well, I tried.

When we reached the cafeteria, however, we both noticed an unmistakable bunch of teenagers enjoying a nice cup of coffee while waiting for someone.

Us.

-"Marco, let's get outta here."- I gripped his arm and pulled him away.

He didn't budge, at first, staring at the cluster intensely, -"O-okay…"

I started walking faster until I heard my name called, -"Hey, Jean!"

Fuck.

-"Come on, don't be such a jerk! Don't ignore us!"

Shut the fuck up, Reiner. You're the real jerk.

-"Jean…"- Marco tugged my arm.

I sighed. I don't wanna turn around to face, I don't wanna talk to them, I don't want-

-"Jean, they just want to talk. It's been a while since we've seen them and they're our friends."- He said softly, trying to soothe my growing anxiety.

My lips contorted, disagreeing with him, -"Yeah, they wanna talk alright."- About something I don't even wanna mutter.

-"Jean, come on, don't be so cold."

Why is he insisting? He told me he wouldn't insist anymore and he knew what these guys want to really talk about!

-"It'll be alright, I promise."- He squeezed his grip on me, reassuring me that no matter what they say, everything was going to be alright.

I decided to trust his word and nodded, strolling to where my "friends" were.

I had a bad feeling about this.