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“Armin,” complained Jean, kicking the wooden slats of the bunk above him roughly, his voice thickly slurred by sleep, “It’s the middle of the night, go to sleep already. You’ve been at that thing for hours.”
“Sorry,” said Armin poking his blond head over the edge of the bed, “Did I wake you?”
“Not really,” yawned Jean, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape, “But we’ve got physical training in the morning, so you should pack it in.”
“I can’t sleep,” admitted Armin, a sheepish flush crawling across his cheeks.
“Bad dreams?”
Armin didn’t answer but he wouldn’t meet Jean’s gaze.
“It’s fine you know,” said Jean, a bit awkwardly, cursing himself for asking, and for being right, “Do you—I don’t know, do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, really,” said Armin, his head disappearing from view, “They’re just—reruns of bad memories.”
With a sigh Jean hauled himself up out of bed and, grabbing his pillow, climbed the ladder up to Armin’s bunk.
“What are you doing?” demanded Armin as Jean sprawled himself out along the side of his bunk that pressed up against the bunkhouse wall.
“What does it look like,” Jean retorted.
“It looks like you’re crawling into my bed,” said Armin wryly.
This time it was Jean’s turn to flush.
“Shut up,” he said, settling on his side facing Armin and the large book on tactics he’d received from their instructor, “I used to do this for my baby sister,” Jean explained around another yawn, “She was scared that there was a monster under her bed. She told me that when she dreamed of the monsters as long as I was there with her she wasn’t scared ‘cause she knew I’d protect her. So, if it’s titans that you’re scared of, well, I’m better with the 3D maneuver gear than anyone short of Mikasa, and I’ll protect you. So just go to sleep.”
Holding back a chuckle as Jean’s eyes drooped almost instantly shut again, Armin turned onto his stomach and reached over to turn off the lamp, setting the book aside for the night. Jean was right after all, it was late, they had training tomorrow and Armin was exhausted.
As he settled himself in for the night, wiggling under the covers and trying to accommodate for his narrow bunk’s second occupant Jean’s arm came over and slung itself over his back, his hand curling up against his ribs, stilling him.
Jean’s weight and warmth was actually nice, Armin thought to himself, turning his head and trying to make out the taller boy’s features in the dark.
Armin smiled a bit as he felt his eyelids drooping. Jean was right, he did feel safer.