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Mikasa stood as still as a statue, stoic and gazing out to the horizon as she breathed in the salty spray of the sea, her toes curling into the sand as water lapped at her ankles. There was no sound here over the crashing waves and cawing seagulls, just what she needed. Her mind was calm, the atmosphere helping to keep it that way, but the aching in her chest hadn’t dulled in the slightest.
“I’ve lost so much, Jean,” she said numbly without turning to face him, fingers running over the crimson fraying fabric of a long forgotten comfort. “I don’t want to lose you too.”
Jean walked up beside his long time crush and looked out over the ocean with her. “You won’t.” The reply was simple, but Mikasa could hear his unwavering resolve in each short syllable, could sense a determination she had found in one other person.
It only made her heart cry out more.
“How can you say for certain?”
“Because the war is over,” he said definitively, never missing a beat. “There aren’t any titans, there’s no Marley threat looming overhead. We’ve enacted the peace treaties with everyone outside of Paradis. It’s all over, Mikasa, and they… I think they’d want you to be happy.”
Mikasa turned to him then, her sorrow showing through her silver eyes as a single tear slipped down her cheek to fall in the ocean. She didn’t know when she had first began to develop feelings for him, never let herself fall in fear of hitting rock bottom. But as he stood before her now, older and mature, blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun and facial hair neatly trimmed, emerald eyes as kind as ever, she thought that maybe she had already fell a long time ago.
Jean turned to meet her gaze, his will unmoving. “We’ve made it this far, right? Who’s to say we can’t make it to the end old and grey and happy and together?”
That’s right.
Jean had always been there, had always found a way out of even the most hopeless of situations. Whether it was because someone had saved him or he saved himself, he had always made it back home. Because Jean was constant. He was an ever-present pillar of support in Mikasa’s life, always there and willing to pick up the broken pieces of her that others left behind. He had been through hell, had lost friends and comrades who seemed more like family, but he was still willing to risk the heartbreak in an attempt to make the girl of his dreams happy.
“Mikasa, I…”
She didn’t want him to say any more, so she shut him up herself, cupped his cheeks in her hands and brought him down so that their lips were pressed together. Finally. He didn’t waste time when it came to kissing her back, his hands moving to rest gently on her hips.
For a moment, Mikasa let herself believe every word Jean had said. She let herself fall a little more, let herself hope and love deeply. She let Jean catch her, let him pick up the broken pieces that lost loved ones left behind. She let herself be open with her tears, and held on a little tighter as her arms wrapped around his neck.
When they finally pulled apart for air, Mikasa rested her head against his chest, ear pressed to his heart to hear the stubborn, steady beats. “Please don’t let go.” She whispered, breathing in the scent of the sea once more. She noticed the small hints of cedarwood and citrus, a smell that was unmistakably and beautifully Jean.
Jean’s lips tenderly brushed Mikasa’s forehead as he hummed quietly in content. “I won’t,” he affirmed softly.
“I promise.”