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Jean,
I’ve spent weeks, months even, trying to convince myself that I only see you as a friend, but deep inside, I’ve always known that wasn’t the case. I think about you all the time, and I can’t keep it a secret any longer.
Anyway, the point of this isn’t to confess my feelings for you through a letter… you can ignore it if you want, I’ll understand. But, if you want to know who I am, and how I feel, I will be waiting at Attack Park after school.
Jean had lost count of how many times he’d read the letter in his hands—neatly placed inside his locker, written in a messy, yet somehow clean, handwriting that seemed way too familiar—but he couldn’t help but go over its contents one more time.
One would think he’d learned his lesson about love letters two years ago; receiving a confession from a Titan hadn’t exactly been in the list of things he was looking forward to about middle school, and he certainly didn’t want to go through it again. And yet, there he was, waiting at the very same park, only this time, he was two months away from graduating middle school.
The longer he spent sitting down on that bench, all alone, the more nervous he got. He couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t as if he was the one confessing his feelings. All he had to do was sit and listen, and give an answer depending on who it was. Still, part of him hoped no one would show up.
It wasn’t that Jean didn’t want to know who it was—curiosity had been eating him up ever since he found the letter in his locket this morning—but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to turning down one of his friends. Two years ago, Jean would have gone on a date with anyone, but now, he wasn’t so sure. Was it really the time for such a big change? Ruining a friendship, putting hours into starting something new… both sounded equally appalling to him. For the first time in a while, he was actually content with his relationships. Not to mention he already had enough in his mind with finals coming up and everything—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Jean gasped, clutching the letter close to his chest, and turned to their direction, but sighed in relief when he saw his best friend walking up to him.
“Oh, it’s just you,” he said, quickly relaxing his posture, and leaning back against the bench, but not before catching one of Marco’s signature smiles.
“Hey, Jean,” Marco greeted him.
Jean smiled, looking up at the sky and using his arm to cover his eyes from the sun. There were barely any clouds to be seen, and those that were there looked straight out of a children’s drawing book; round, and bright, and perfect, and Jean couldn’t help but think this was the exact type of weather Marco liked to go out in.
“Isn’t there a student council meeting today?” Jean asked, suddenly reminded of his friend’s schedule. “What are all these nerds gonna do without their precious president?”
Marco chuckled nervously, and ironically enough, the familiarity of the sound only seemed to help with Jean’s nerves. “Ah… yeah, we finished earlier today…”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
There was silence for a bit, but it was soon covered by Marco’s footsteps, and then the sound of wood creaking as Jean felt the weight on the bench shift. He found himself wondering if it was a good thing that he was relieved his best friend was keeping him company as he waited for a love confession, but not before smiling. There was something comforting about being around Marco, and Jean had accepted that a long time ago.
“Well… the good news is that Hitch and Marlo actually agreed on something for once,” Marco said, and Jean nodded. He knew from Marco’s stories that these two rarely saw eye to eye on the student council meetings—not that it was any different during their everyday lives. “The bad news is that they both want our graduation ceremony to be cat-themed.”
Jean snorted, but managed to hold back the rest of his laughter. He could almost feel Marco glaring at him.
“And I’m guessing that’s not happening?”
“I mean, hope so.” Marco sighed. “You never know with these two. Hitch threw a fit when I told her we couldn’t have the entire ceremony centered around cats.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah… so we all decided we should come up with a few ideas, and talk about it again at our next meeting,” Marco said. “Though I’m not so sure I’m looking forward to the new ideas. Do you remember what Boris said about the—”
“—school field trip back in December, I remember,” Jean said. He’d heard Marco complain about that meeting hundreds of times. “I swear, that guy is always so quiet. He terrifies me when he speaks his mind—”
“A field trip at the beach, Jean!” Marco said with an annoyed tone in his voice, and this time Jean couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “In the middle of winter.”
Jean somehow managed to calm down enough to speak. “Hey, at least you got Annie on your side. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”
“And don’t even get me started on Dennis…”
Jean chuckled, kicking Marco’s legs playfully. “You’re overthinking this.”
Marco sighed, not commenting on the fact that Jean didn’t move his legs away from his, but rather kept them pressed together instead. “I know… I just wish there was more time.”
Time.
Jean was suddenly reminded of what he was doing there. As much as he enjoyed Marco’s company—and as much as he wished he could actually stay—he wasn’t sure how his secret admirer would take it if they saw someone else waiting at the park with him.
“Hey, Marco,” Jean said, closing his eyes. He didn’t know why he was having so much trouble getting the words out, but it seriously felt like he had a weight hanging from his chest. “You know that love letter thing I told you about? The person who wrote it should be here any minute. And, uh… it’s not as if I don’t like you being here, but I’m not sure if that person will? So… you know.”
He didn’t exactly spell it out for him, but it was as good as it was going to get. In the nearing-three years he’d known Marco, he couldn’t remember a single time he hadn’t been there for Jean, and though it shouldn’t have been a big deal, telling him to leave like that almost felt as if he was betraying their friendship.
Or saying goodbye.
Jean immediately shook the thought off, embarrassed. Why would him going on a date or two put an end to his relationship with Marco? They were best friends. They spent time together, before, during, and after school, all the time. They met up on the weekends for pizza. They went out to the movies with Marco’s family, and they had sleepovers at Jean’s. They told each other anything and everything, and even when they didn’t, they knew what was on the other’s mind. Nothing could ever come between them.
It was then that Jean realised Marco never responded to him. They didn’t need to be best friends for Jean to know there was something wrong, so he took a glance at him.
Marco was sitting up straight, if not with a little hump, staring at his lap. His hands were pressed between his thighs, but he looked as if he wanted to bounce them around, like he couldn’t stand still, but he was forcing himself to.
“Marco?”
Jean sat up normally to take a better look at him. At first glance, Marco’s expression seemed to be filled with worry, but the more he stared, the more he realised his friend was terrified.
Before he knew it, Jean was starting to panic. Marco had always been a little bit more soft-hearted than the rest of their friends—although he’d proven time and time again that wasn’t always true—but Jean could have never imagined his request would have such an effect on him. He silently cursed the letter in his hand, shoving it in his pocket.
The more Jean thought about it, the more he realised it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Marco worried that day. They hadn’t walked to school together this morning—which wasn’t unusual these days, with the end of the year nearing, and the school needing its student council president more than ever before—but when Jean found him in class to show him the letter he found in his locker, Marco had seemed off.
At first, Jean simply assumed it was because he was worried; Marco tended to be overprotective at times, and they both remembered what happened the last time Jean had received a love letter. But, even after Jean assured him that he didn’t have as high expectations this time around so he couldn’t possibly be disappointed, Marco hadn’t seemed any better. In fact, thinking back to it now, it’d only made the situation worse.
Every time Jean brought up the letter, Marco would brush him off or try to change the subject. Was he really that worried about what was going to happen? No, that couldn’t be it. Marco wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, even if the truth wasn’t pleasant. And yet, for the entire day, Marco had looked as if he had something to say. Even now, probably moments before Jean’s admirer arrived, Marco seemed wary, and tense, almost like he was the one confessing his—
Oh.
Oh.
“You… didn’t have a student council meeting today, did you?”
Jean was careful with his words, but he didn’t miss the way Marco gasped under his breath.
“No,” his friend finally admitted, not sparing him a glance. “Well, that’s not true. There was a meeting, but it was this morning. I didn’t actually have anything after school…”
Jean nodded. “I-I see.”
His heart felt like it was going to burst.
When had this happened? How had this happened? Not only had Jean not noticed that his best friend, the person he was closest to in the world, had feelings for him, but also that he felt the same way too.
Suddenly it all made sense; why Jean was so hesitant about accepting the invitation, why he wished no one would show up, why he didn’t want to ask Marco to leave… It wasn’t because he was scared of hurting him, though that played a big part too, but rather that he wanted it to be him. He didn’t want to go out with anyone, he wanted to go out with Marco. His best friend.
Jean was in love with his best friend.
And who knew how long he had been for.
“Marco… I—”
“Look, Jean,” Marco interrupted, staring at his lap so intensely that Jean could have sworn he was going to pierce right through his legs. “I, I didn’t think this through enough. It would have been better if I just hadn’t said anything, so… so can you just forget about it? I know I’m probably asking for too much here, but—”
“I want to hear it.”
It was only then that Marco turned towards him, and Jean got a better look at how truly scared he was.
“Wh-What?”
Jean swallowed. “I want to hear it from you,” he said, trying not to mumble his words. “What you wanted to write in the letter but didn’t…” The point of this isn’t to confess my feelings for you through a letter. “Please…”
He wondered if he said the wrong thing, seeing as Marco fell into silence. Thankfully, it didn’t last long.
Marco nodded slowly, setting his hands free and letting them rest on his legs rather than between them. “Okay.”
They both shifted in their seats, like a silent agreement, so they were facing each other a bit better. Jean buried his hands in his pockets, but regretted it when he felt the letter, and its contents. He was already having trouble accepting this moment was real, and he didn’t need a reminder for the rest of his day.
“Jean,” Marco began, “you are my best friend. B-But… you’re also much more than that.”
He glanced at Jean quickly, almost like he was waiting for some sort of affirmation, so Jean nodded.
Marco took another deep breath, looking away again. “And I don’t just mean this in the… the romantic sense.” Jean had to bite the inside of his cheek as he continued, as if it would do anything to hide the blush that must have started appearing on his face by now. “Whenever something good happens, you’re the first person I want to share the news with. But it’s funny, because you’re usually included in all of the good stuff.”
Another not-so-distinctive glance. Another nod.
“When I’m with you… it’s like I can really be myself,” Marco said. “Even when you make fun of me—which I know you don’t mean, by the way, you’re actually quite bad at throwing insults.”
Jean chuckled. “Not gonna argue there…”
Marco smiled, and though it was directed at Jean, it almost looked like he was trying to soothe himself. “I don’t exactly know when my feelings for you changed—well, maybe ‘changed’ isn’t the right word. It’s more like they, they developed? I, I think? But I think this is why I’m so sure that I have them… because at the end of the day, I don’t feel all that different around you? Yes, the sudden urge to hold your hand is distracting,” Marco said, and Jean physically felt his face heat up, “but it’s not like I want to turn into another person for you. A better person, maybe… but I want to be myself.”
His heart was beating faster than it ever had before, but he didn’t want it to stop. Jean was drawn closer and closer to Marco by every word, and the warmth in his chest was nothing like he’d ever felt before.
“And I’m not expecting you to return those feelings, I’m really not,” Marco continued. “I just needed to get it off my chest, because… because, I don’t know, it felt like I was lying to you? Which is stupid, I know. It would have been much easier to just stay quiet, at least that’s what I told myself at first, but then it started eating me up, and—God, the more I speak, the dumber I realise I sound.” Marco huffed, covering one of his eyes with his palm. “Th-That’s it.”
“I…” Jean began, without actually knowing where he was going. “Marco, I have to… I need to tell you—”
“No, wait, I changed my mind, I’m not done,” Marco interrupted him. He scooted closer to Jean, so their knees were touching, and grabbed his hands. Jean stared at them, as if he couldn’t believe that they were actually holding hands, and then back at Marco, whose face was bright red. He almost looked as if he was about to cry. “I love you. And I know… I know there’s no going back from this, so that’s why I want to apologise too. I love you, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I couldn’t hide it, I’m sorry that I am ruining our friendship like this, but I love you, and I’m sor—”
Jean kissed him.
It was clumsy, and quick, and nothing like the movies, and hell, he was surprised he even had the guts for it. But it felt right, and that was enough for him. He just wished it was enough for Marco too.
He pulled away, and though he wanted to stare into Marco’s eyes, embarrassment took the best of him. He looked down at their hands instead. “I told you you’re overthinking.”
“J-Jean…” Marco said. Jean had always loved the way he said his name, and he loved it even then, with his voice shaky and unsure. “What does… What does this—”
“It means I feel the same way, obviously,” Jean said, harsher than he’d intended, but he couldn’t help himself. “Idiot…”
Marco’s laughter didn’t come as a surprise to him, but it was still a big relief to hear. He smiled shyly, insults forgotten—Marco was right; he really was bad at them—and spared his friend a glance. Marco’s smile was even more relieving.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t give the letter thing another chance,” Marco said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Jean’s hand. Jean wondered if he was aware that he was doing it, or if he was unconsciously trying to soothe his nerves.
Jean chuckled. “You know, you were acting so weird about it that I almost considered throwing it away,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I didn’t.”
“You’d listen to me over a love confession?” Marco asked, a teasing tone in his voice.
“You mean if I’d listen to you over you?” Jean teased back, earning another laugh from Marco. “Sure, Marco. Don’t get too confident though.”
“You wouldn’t be holding my hand right now if I wasn’t.”
Jean knew Marco meant it as a joke, but he was right. He didn’t want to think about how long it would have taken them to get to this point if Marco hadn’t made the first move.
“I love you too, by the way…” Jean mumbled. He thought he’d have more trouble saying it, but in retrospect, the words felt too small compared to how he actually felt about Marco. “So you don’t have to worry about any sudden urge to hold hands, or whatever else it is that… couples… do.”
“Like kiss?”
Jean bit the inside of his cheek, somehow managing not to break eye contact. “A-Assuming we’re a couple… obviously. A-And anyway, aren’t you supposed to be the one confessing your love for me? You’re the one that’s supposed to… ask.”
Despite Jean screwing up every single word he said, Marco smiled. “Is that the only way I’m getting another kiss?”
“Marcoooo…!”
Marco chuckled, letting go of one of his hands. “Jean, I happen to want to do couple stuff with you very much,” he said, brushing a strand of hair off Jean’s forehead, “so if you want to as well, would you do me the honor of being my boyfrie—”
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say the whole thing!” Jean interrupted, somehow feeling his face heat up even more. “It’s embarrassing…”
“It’s romantic,” Marco corrected him, and actually leaned in to press a kiss on Jean’s cheek. “So… is that a yes?”
Jean nodded shyly. “Yes… I want to be your… your boyfriend.”
“Okay,” Marco said as if it was the answer to the most simple of statements, and went back to playing with his hair. “I guess you’re officially the First Gentleman of the student council—”
Jean groaned, playfully hitting Marco with his free hand. “I am breaking up with you right now.”
The round of laughter that escaped Marco’s lips after that was the sweetest sound Jean had heard all day.