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A fleeting TV ad from three weeks ago planted the seeds of genius into Eren's head. Otherwise, she might have been perfectly content spending the first milestone of her relationship with Jean rolling around at home in pjs, munching on whatever heartattack in a bag they happen to have lying around.
It's just--it'd looked so nice, you know? The couple in the ad sitting at a park bench under the dark greys of night, birds chirping sleepily in the background, the man dressed in a sharply pressed button-down whipping out a bouquet of lilies, the girl's eyes lighting up like stars and--
Eren wants to see Jean's eyes light up like stars.
(More specifically, she wants to be the one lighting up the stars.)
She knows that Jean likes her, obviously. Probably has liked her far before she returned those feelings because I've wanted you for so long was what Jean had said the first time they got their hands on each other. What's slightly problematic is that most days Eren feels like she does more to make Jean scowl than smile, despite all the nice little things that Jean does for her (quietly getting up at 3am to push coffee at her, taking chocolate wrappers out of her pockets because she knows Eren always forgets, to name a few). It doesn't feel very fair.
So, Eren sets herself on a mission.
T-minus two weeks, she takes the flower shop down the street from campus by storm, ordering a bouquet that busts her budget for the next two months (but whatever, it's for Jean and Jean deserves the best things). T-minus one week, she finds the perfect non-rusty park bench where they won't be disturbed by evening sports practice. T-minus two minutes, she is leading a blindfolded and wary Jean by the hand through a grassy field when the first drops of rain land on her cheek.
Denial debates with logic for a moment. Because hey, maybe...it's just a shitty bird pissing on her! It's possible! But as time goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that there would need to be a fucking canopy of birds all simultaneously conducting their business overhead to account for the absolute downpour that drenches their hair and clothes in half a minute.
Jean pulls off her blindfold and regards Eren with a raised eyebrow. "Is this the surprise?" she asks, unimpressed. "Put on your nicest outfit and let's go out to get it washed in the rain?"
While she doesn't look super pissed (yet), she also understandably doesn't have the stars going in her eyes. Maybe a more fragile soul would have called it quits then, but well--Eren's invested so much of her time and hopes in this moment that she's not ready to give up at the first obstacle so she says, pointing to the clubhouse on the other side of the field, "Race you to shelter? Loser does dishes and cleaning for a week."
And she's kicking her slippery sandals off her feet, hitting the muddy soil hard with the first steps of a sprint, before Jean has the chance to respond.
"Wait, you--cheater!" Jean calls, waving her arms to try to catch Eren by her clothes while pulling off her own sandals, clutching them by the straps as she chases after Eren.
They charge forward together, slipping through the puddles, bumping shoulders, blocking each other with their elbows. When they pass by the bench, Eren lets herself fall behind, ducking down to pick up the ruined bouquet she'd hidden beneath there. When she catches up to Jean, they're almost at the doors to the clubhouse, and they shove in together, falling through with silly grins redrawn.
They're both breathing hard as they stare at each other, endorphins pumping through their veins. Jean's clothes cling to her skin in ways that outline the curves of her breasts against her blouse and the inside of her thighs beneath her skirt, and her hair is a mess around her face, the short bits that don't stay tied up in her ponytail sticking to her neck, guiding the direction of the rivulets of water travelling across her skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she's got this smirk slung across her lips, characteristically sharp.
It's a little overwhelming for Eren, how pretty she finds Jean right now.
She has a hand wrapped halfway around the back of Jean's neck to pull her in for a taste of that smirk, but before her mouth reaches, Jean's lips change their twist as she opens her mouth to say something. Eren pauses.
The words register in a slow fog: "Are those for me?"
Jean is eying the flowers in Eren's other hand with a weird expression on her face. Reevaluating them now, Eren sees that the flowers, with their white petals caked brown with mud, are much more of a mess than she'd thought when she picked them up off the ground and inwardly mourns the fortune (well, college-student fortune) she blew on them if they're not even going to make Jean happy.
"Uh, yeah, but--" Eren says. She begins to tuck the flowers behind her when Jean grabs her by both hands, wrapping them properly around the bouquet and pulling her arms straight at the height of her chest.
"If you're going to give me drenched flowers, at least be cute about it," she says. Her voice is demanding, but she's half-hiding behind her bangs, eyes flicking sneakily up from the bouquet at Eren's face, and Eren thinks with a fuzzy warmth in her chest that maybe they're together in being a little overwhelmed with each other. The look is flattering on Jean, makes her seem younger than her years.
With a wide smile, Eren thrusts the bouquet into Jean's arms and tilts up to press her lips to the corner of Jean's mouth. "The line I'd rehearsed was about you being prettier than the flowers, but…"
"The standard would be quite low, yeah," Jean finishes with a laugh. She's hugging the flowers to her chest, beyond the point of caring about her blouse anymore, apparently. "Still, the flowers are very thoughtful of you. I'm pretty surprised, to be honest." She buries her nose in them, eyelids fluttering closed.
Eren's stomach becomes a house for butterflies when Jean's wet eyelashes touch her wet cheeks, and she's momentarily paralyzed by the emotions that she hadn't realized had the power to grip her with such intensity. She could settle for another small peck on the lips, but she's never been good at doing things in half measures so in the next second she is shaking off her paralysis and reshaping it into momentum that brings her surging forward, enveloping Jean and the flowers and the wild beating of her heart in her arms, crashing her mouth against Jean's, noses bumping and lips bruising. It's such clumsy kiss, kind of painful and too wet, but Eren's beyond pleased with it.
When she extracts herself from the kiss and meets Jean's eyes, she sees that Jean's not all too disappointed either, if the curl of her lips is any indication of that. Jean's hand is pressed over Eren's jawline, thumb tracing the curve of it gently.
"I can get you flowers every year, if you want," Eren is saying before she's had a good thought about it. But it can't be a bad idea, right? Especially when finally, finally, the stars are coming out and it is everything of Eren's daydreams and more. Jean's eyes aren't really the type that people usually wax poetic about, but Eren is feeling so invincible and in awe right now that she could probably give a decent stab at a haiku or something.
She is grinning dazedly at the twinkle in Jean's eyes as Jean says, very unconvincingly, "That's a horrible waste of money."
"Once or twice a year probably won't kill me." Eren shrugs. Jean's worth that much, at least. She's so worth it.
"Oh," Jean breathes, quietly.
Eren stares at her for a beat and a half before echoing her own Oh just as quietly. Did she--say that last bit out loud? She must have...huh. Cat's out of the bag, at least.
"Right," Jean says, slowly. A drop of water dribbles down her cheek. Eren tilts to catch it on her tongue. Jean bites her lower lip. Eren flashes her a proud smile, with teeth. "Guess I wouldn't mind that too much."
"Good." Eren nods. Because it is a very good thing. This. Jean. It's all very good.
They stay in the clubhouse, wrapped up in each other, through the insistent tapping of the rain against the window. In the interim between late night and early morning, Eren watches blearily as the stars in the sky fade away, giving way to the sun stretching up from beyond the horizon. But when she sets her gaze closer, to the eyes drifting open next to her, she sees that the only stars she really cares about shine on, bright and vivid.