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I had been lying awake in bed for the past two hours, moodily watching the still and screamingly white world outside the window when I heard a shy knock on my door. I didn't move nor make a sound, silently hoping whoever it was to just assume I was sleeping and go away.
Another knock. Then, ''Jean?''
It was a little embarrassing how fast my eyes opened at that voice, the firm grip I was holding on the comforter I was using as a shield against the biting cold turning slack. Still, I didn't move, still hoping (a little less than before) he would just leave me alone.
''Jean?'' The voice repeated. ''I'm coming in.''
Letting out an annoyed groan (it sounded more like a whine), I pulled the duvet up, burying my head under it, reaching with desperate hands at the hope of him getting the message I wasn't up to listen to whatever he was about to say.
I felt the bed dip as he sat on its edge. Dammit.
''Jean.''
I kept quiet, blindly hoping he thought I was asleep.
''I know you're awake.'' I felt something poking at my shoulder through the comforter. ''You left your phone downstairs.''
Ugh.
I pulled the duvet down to my chin, twisting my head around so I could look at him. ''I could still be asleep,'' I retorted petulantly, fixing him with an annoyed glare.
''No, you couldn't.'' Marco was looking down at me, a fond smile stretching his lips. ''You can't sleep without your dumb whale sounds.''
Damn him and how well he knows me.
I looked away and dived down the duvet again, grumbling, ''They're not dumb.''
Marco chuckled, and I felt another poke on my shoulder. ''A little.''
I frowned but said nothing. A little yelp was heard from my side when I kicked him on what I believed was his thigh.
Marco has been my best friend for years now. We met when we were fourteen, both a little wide-eyed and nervous, starting up ninth grade. Marco had just been transferred to our school, being offered a full scholarship due to his astonishing performance in our local ice skating competition. We got literally thrust together by an overenthusiastic Sasha, one of my school friends, who dragged me around the classroom by the arm, physically pushing me into Marco while gushing about how we both liked ice skating so 'you must be soulmates!'. We actually bonded over how uncomfortable we both felt about the situation, with Marco sheepishly thanking me and introducing himself after I socked Sasha on the arm for manhandling me, making her shut up.
We did end up sticking together because of ice skating, but, differently from many friends I made during practice and competitions, my friendship with Marco went over our mutual love for the sport.
''Hey.'' Another poke.
''Go away,'' I groaned.
Marco poked me a few more times, enough for me to scoot to the furthest edge of the bed from him to escape his annoying prodding, muttering angrily to myself. I heard him let out a dramatic sigh, the bed groaning slightly as he got up.
''Oh well,'' Marco tutted. ''I guess I'll have to go to the skating rink downtown all by myself, then…''
The comforter was pushed down to my chest in less than a second, and I scowled at a smug-looking Marco by my door.
''You said it was closed for renovation,'' I pointed out, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
''It was.'' He shrugged. ''But, y'know, I wasn't sure, so I called them up this morning and they said it's been open since last month.''
I gave Marco my best unimpressed look.
''You already knew it was open, didn't you?'' I asked, dragging my feet along the mattress until they fell out of the bed. I hissed in surprise as my socked feet touched the painfully cold floor. ''Did you lie so you could use it as a holiday surprise, huh?''
''I have no idea what you're talking about,'' He replied breezily, a coy smile on his lips. ''Anyway, I thought we could head down to town, eat something and then go to the rink.'' Marco's smile then turned more genuine. ''The girl who works there on afternoon shifts is an old friend, I'm sure she wouldn't mind keeping it open for a few more hours after closing time. We could practice a bit?''
I didn't know whether to feel pleased or annoyed over how Marco knew exactly what to say or do to cheer me up.
I let out a heavy sigh, racking a hand through my bed hair. My mind went downstairs for a moment, and I cringed at the thought of leaving my bedroom just to spend more time with the very same people I was avoiding. I was glad my back was facing Marco, or he would most definitely be questioning my sour expression.
''What about the others?'' I couldn't help but ask.
''Actually,'' Marco started, and when I turned back to glance at him, he was staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. ''I thought we could, uh, maybe go alone?'' His eyes slipped down to meet mine, and I internally frowned at his sudden shy smile. ''I mean, I doubt our classmates will want to head out just to watch us practice, right? Annie said she's not feeling it today, and Reiner…'' He paused for a moment, looking a little troubled. ''Actually, I have no idea where Reiner is. Or Bertholdt. I'm not sure I want to know.''
I snorted at his words, turning back so I could reach down and put my shoes back on. I could feel my toes turning numb from the second.
''I didn't ask Mikasa or Eren if they wanted to go too, though,'' Marco continued after a few seconds of silence, his voice sounding a little unsure. ''I could ask them if you want—''
''No!'' I blurted out, straightening up and looking back at him again. His eyes were still fixed on me, but his pensive expression had changed to a curious one, eyebrows slightly raised. ''Uh,'' I cleared my throat and looked away. ''Just us is fine.''
Marco didn't say anything as I laced my shoes, but I could feel his questioning gaze locked on me.
''Okay,'' Marco finally said when I got up, sending me a little smile when I turned to face him again. ''I'll be waiting downstairs, alright?''
I grunted back as a response, not waiting for him to leave to reach for my suitcase so I could start the slow process of shielding my body from the hellish cold weather of Jinae.
It had been Marco's idea to spend the holidays in his hometown, Jinae. It was a quaint little town, a good six hours and a half outside of Trost, far enough to have its own weird, intense weather.
Winter was considerably harsh in Trost every year, with streets getting less and less crowded as the temperature decreased, and the hot beverages business thrived for months. I was not a cold lover person, so I was very much part of the group of people who preferred to stay at home, bundled up in three different types of blankets while sipping on whatever hot cocoa brand my mom had bought that week.
So you can guess how great I was taking the cold here in Jinae, a good ten degrees below the Trost minimum.
(Marco had said we were experiencing a fairly less brutal winter than normal this year, which was a little worrying since I was already losing feeling on my feet from spending thirty seconds without a duvet around my freezing feet.)
His idea had been met with excessive excitement from our friends, who were all, like me, born and raised in Trost, which meant that, like me, none of them had actually seen snow in person (which was… pretty ironic, for most of us). I wasn't as pumped as them to see snow—it's literally just frozen water in a weird, mushy consistency—, but the thought of spending the holidays on a winter cabin, away from Trost and all the current stress that came with it, was inviting enough for me.
(My willingness to go had absolutely nothing to do with how it meant I got to spend two whole weeks with Marco. On Marco's hometown. And sharing a room with Marco. On his childhood house. Nope. Not at all.)
Marco's parents had kept the old house when they moved out to Trost and used it as a holiday retreat for years, more times than not going alone as their kids preferred to stay in the city. But this year, his parents had decided to spend the holidays with Marco's aunt, leaving the house empty for the season. Marco had been quick to ask if he could use it, and having parents as chill as his, they didn't even think twice before giving him the house and car keys.
The house in Jinae was big—like, considerably big—, with enough bedrooms to accommodate all twelve of us. Marco and I had gotten the master bedroom, while Sasha, Connie, Armin, Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt shared Marco's older brothers' old bedroom (it was big enough for all of them, with a bunk bed and enough floor space for makeshift beds). Claiming their couple privileges, Ymir and Historia had gotten Marco's, and Eren and Mikasa his little sister's. (Reiner had honest to God pouted when he found out he could've played the same card, but by then it was already too late).
At first, I had been a little unsure about mixing friends from different parts of my life, but Marco had assured me it would be fine. More than fine.
I had met most of them through ice skating.
Mikasa had been the first one. We were paired together for the local ice-skating tournament when we were both twelve? Thirteen? A long time ago. Neither of us was too happy about it, and the first few practices were harsh (on our coach's part) and awkward (on our part) but we made do— so much that we ended up in second place by the end of the competition, with just a few weeks' worth of working together. After that, Levi—our coach—decided we were better off together than not, and from then on, Mikasa and I became a pretty permanent pair. It took some time to get used to it, seeing that both of us hadn't started skating to end up part of a pair, but as years went by, I honestly couldn't see myself skating without her anymore — and neither could Mikasa, she had confessed to me one day, after our third consecutive year winning our local competition.
(I wonder now if what made her say that was the addictive rush of adrenaline after winning, or if, one day, it had actually been her most honest truth.)
Eren and Armin came along almost at the same time as Mikasa, considering how attached to the hip the three of them were (and still are). Before pairing with her, I had never seen Armin there, at the practice rink, unlike Eren, who I knew in passing as the boy who was Hitch's skating partner. Armin didn't ice skate like both of his best friends, he simply went there to watch them practice sometimes. Being the more friendly out of the two boys, it wasn't a surprise when I ended up befriending him before Eren.
It had been a little rough between me and Eren in the beginning, and I'm not really sure why 'till this day. Maybe we were both too alike back then, too hot-headed (sometimes I wonder if it was because of Mikasa; it sure would explain a lot these days). But eventually, we got used to each other's presence, I guess, and today I know I can firmly call him a close friend (despite… everything).
I only properly met Annie and Reiner after Marco and I became friends. I had seen both of them around the rink, Annie as an ice dancer, and Reiner as a hockey player (with only two rinks and far too many people involved in ice-related sports, sometimes our hours overlapped, so it wasn't uncommon for one or the other to stay on the benches while waiting for their practice to end). Like Mikasa and I, Annie and Marco had been thrown into a pair just after he got transferred to Trost, by none other than Levi, too. But unlike me and my partner, they clicked together as fast as after their first practice, earning themselves a gold medal on their first ice dancing competition. Marco told me the main reason why Levi had picked him from the junior tournament was that Annie had been pair-less for a few months, and because she wanted to (and was insanely good at) ice dance, she needed a new partner as soon as possible, and Marco had fit the profile.
Marco had introduced me to Annie first, and even though I was—and still am—dead intimidated by her, we got along just fine. We weren't the best of friends, but things were at least polite between the two of us (except for the last few weeks, for some reason; it's been a common situation for me to avoid her eyes like hell, because they're always fixed on me in a terrifying glare). After that, it didn't take us too long to meet Reiner and Bertholdt; being Annie's older brother meant Reiner was constantly around during her practices and competitions, and I later found out that wherever the blond was, Bertholdt was being dragged right behind him. Marco, being the nice little social butterfly he is, took the first chance he got and befriended both boys, later on introducing them to the rest of us. Annie wasn't all that thrilled about her big brother being friends with her own friends, but we could clearly see the amused, almost fond looks she would throw him and try to hide whenever they were all together.
Differently from them, I had met Connie, Sasha, Historia, and Ymir at school. I had never really thought about mixing those different parts of my life, I was perfectly fine enjoying their presence separately, but when Marco came with his holiday idea, he didn't even think twice about thrusting everyone together, saying they would all get along just fine, stop worrying so much, Jean. Yeah, whatever.
He ended up being right, after all. I shouldn't have been so surprised when they all acted like old friends reuniting, they're all overexcited extroverts. Apart from me, Mikasa, Annie, and Bertholdt. I felt a little justified by their apprehensive expressions.
After changing to a warmer hoodie, I slug my jacket over my arm and picked up my shoulder bag, careful not to stab myself with my ice skate's blades. After making sure I had my phone and wallet, I left the room, locking it behind me and pocketing the small key (you had to be stupid to not do the same when a duo such as Connie and Sasha were inhabiting the same place as yourself).
Quietly, I walked down the stairs, eyes carefully roaming the place around me. I had been up in our room for the past couple of hours for a reason—two reasons actually, both of which I wasn't planning on dealing with too soon. Luckily, the only people on the main floor seemed to be Connie and Sasha snoring loudly from the living room couch.
''Going somewhere?''
I wish I could say I didn't squeak like a middle schooler at the sudden voice behind me. I spun around to find icy blue eyes staring back at me from the kitchen table.
''Uh, yeah,'' I stuttered, great, so cool. ''Marco's taking me to the skating rink downtown.''
''Oh, so Marco did manage to make your sorry ass stop moping around the bedroom,'' Annie said, eyebrows raising slightly as she rested her head on her hand, elbow propped up on the table. Is that amusement I see on her face— ''Good.''
I turned my face around back to the two idiots passed out on the couch, scolding at them so I didn't risk getting a kick on the knees from Annie. Yeah, yeah, mock the unlucky, sad bastard, hardy-har-har, so funny.
When I turned back at her, my face was relaxed again. She raised one blonde eyebrow at me, her mocking little side-smile suggesting I was a terrible actor.
''You seen Marco?'' I asked her after a moment of silence. ''He said he would be waiting for me downstairs…''
''He said something about forgetting his skates, I think,'' Annie replied absentmindedly. I had already lost her interest, her eyes flitting back down to the phone in her hand.
I let myself stare at her for a bit, realizing just how bored she seemed to look, more than normal. I knew Marco had said he already asked Annie, but something told me that, between boring herself to death over scrolling mindlessly on her phone while hearing those two snoring like two goddamn monster trucks and going downtown to eat some late lunch and skate, she wouldn't mind having to put up with me for a few hours.
I let a pent-out sigh out, putting my hands deep on my sweatpants pockets as I walked closer to the kitchen table. I knocked my knuckles lightly against the table to get her attention back. ''You sure you don't wanna come with us?'' I said as she looked up from her phone, lip tilting up in a sheepish little smile. ''Watching Sasha and Connie drool on each other can't be that fun.''
''Oh, but it is,'' She replied in a beat, face neutral. ''Can't you see the tears rolling down my face from laughing so hard?''
I immediately scowled. ''Sorry for asking, then.''
''I'm just messing with you, sourpuss.'' Annie rolled her eyes, setting her phone down and giving me her full attention. ''Thanks, but I'll pass. In case you've forgotten, we're on vacation. I'm not getting on an ice rink until I strictly need to.''
I shrugged in response, letting silence fall between us again. But differently from before, she didn't go back to her phone.
''Maybe skating a bit will make you feel better, huh?'' She prodded, and when I looked back at her, she had leaned back on the chair, arms crossed over her chest as she now glared at me, her neutral expression gone. ''Or at least ease a little the major stick you got up your ass.''
I spluttered. ''Excuse me—?''
''Look, I have no idea what you're going through right now, okay?'' Annie interrupted. ''It must be shitty if it's been bothering you for months now.'' Her scowl softened for a moment, and she continued, ''But Marco has been planning this trip for weeks, all because of your mopey ass, because he was worried about you, and thought getting out of Trost might do you some good. But,'' She waved a pale hand towards me, a sneer on her lips, ''here you are. Wasting all his planning for, what? Sulking on his parents' bedroom?''
I just realized I had been gaping at her like an idiot for the past two minutes when silence filled the room and closed my mouth with an almost audible snap.
What? Marco did this… for me?
''You better go out to that rink with him and go back like the fucking sun glows out of your ass, okay?'' It wasn't a request nor a demand. It was a goddamn threat. I felt myself shudder under Annie's excruciating glare. ''I won't have Marco sad because of an ungrateful shit like you, understood?''
Before I could so much as nod at her words, her hard stare melted completely as her eyes settled on something behind me. I turned around, finding Marco, his dark brown jacket already on, a bag just like mine (carrying what I guessed were his own ice skates), staring at us with a concerned look on his face.
''Hey,'' He said, his voice tentative as his eyes went from my slightly alarmed expression to Annie's nonchalant one. ''Everything okay?''
''Yeah,'' I immediately replied, not needing to look behind me to know Annie's cold stare was fixed on me again. ''We were just, uh—''
''Jean asked if I wanted to join you two at the rink,'' Annie said, the half-lie sliding easily out of her mouth. ''I guess I should work better on my facial expressions, Jean seriously thought I wasn't deeply enthralled by how much fucking drool can come out of that bald kid's mouth.''
Marco snorted, throwing her an apologetic smile back. ''There's a TV up in the master bedroom, you can use it if you want.''
''No, it's fine.'' Annie waved her hand dismissively. ''I should wake them up soon anyway, all that sleep definitely won't be good for us tonight.'' She got up then, and I could hear her muttering to herself. ''Goddamn overexcited puppies, the two of them.''
I heard Marco laugh again, successfully stealing a little smile from me. I looked back at him, and he jerked his head towards the front door, silently asking if I was ready to go. I nodded, putting my jacket on as further confirmation.
As we stepped outside, I could faintly hear what sounded like Sasha shrieking and muted sounds of couch cushions hitting something solid from the living room. Marco chuckled, shaking his head in amusement before turning around as I closed the door behind us. I frowned as I saw him stop dead on the porch's steps from the corner of my eyes and turned to see what he was looking at.
''Marco—?''
I froze.
''Hey,'' Eren greeted, awkwardly waving at us with his free hand, the other holding hands with a very uncomfortable-looking Mikasa. I blinked, shutting my mouth as I realized it was still open; Marco kept quiet, looking between me and the other two as if he was assessing the situation. Eren cleared his throat when no one said anything. ''You guys going somewhere?''
Instead of answering, I lowered my eyes to the white ground, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I avoided looking at anyone. Too soon, too fucking soon, I'm not ready to deal with them, I don't—
''Yeah,'' Marco's voice interrupted my thoughts. ''I'm just taking Jean to this bakery I used to go to when I was younger.''
I had to almost restrain myself physically from snapping my head up towards Marco, surprised by the lie. Well, almost lie, I guess. He did say we could grab something to eat…
I looked up in time to see Eren nod and accidentally let my gaze drift to Mikasa, who was already looking back at me. I could see the wary question in her eyes, but I didn't—couldn't answer it, not yet. I looked away from her, pretending I didn't hear the resigned sigh she let out.
I discreetly tugged at the back of Marco's jacket, praying he would get the hint.
''Anyway, we should go,'' Marco said, and I could kiss him. I mean. Hug him. I could hug him. Yeah. ''I'm not sure when the place's closing time is, so…'' He smiled, putting his hand on my back, and prodding me forward. ''See you guys later.''
Neither of us looked back as we tread through the snow, leaving the couple behind. Marco let his hand slid off my back, and I bit back a protest, biting hard at my lower lip.
''Thanks,'' I muttered, not looking up at him, but staring at the endless white under our feet.
Marco hummed back. I didn't have to look at him to know the soft smile he had on his lips at that moment.
::
I bit forcefully through the cinnamon roll I was holding, getting a bit of the sugary sauce on my face. I was trying so hard not to be mad. So, so hard. It wasn't Marco's fault. It really wasn't. But he should have— No. Not blaming him.
I looked up from my pastry to Marco, who was a few steps away. He was on the phone with his friend who worked at the skating rink (Mina, I think?). He didn't look happy, with his eyebrows scrunched down in a frustrated frown, one hand cupping his forehead as he looked down at his feet.
After we left the house, it took us approximately twenty minutes to reach Jinae's downtown. It probably would've taken us less if it wasn't for the stupid amount of snow in our way. Like, seriously, it was ridiculous. I had no idea why people liked this season so much. It's inconvenient. And so cold it physically hurts.
Marco did take me to the bakery. It was a small, homey-looking place, the heavenly smell of baked goods as inviting as the heat emanating from inside. Marco said he used to go there almost every day with his siblings before they moved out to Trost, and to further prove his point, he greeted the old lady behind the counter by her name, earning himself a painful pinch of his cheek and a joyful 'you've grown so much!'. He had ordered two slices of lime pie (his favorite, he had said) with a faint blush on his cheeks, which only got worse when the lady packed two cinnamon rolls with it as she not so subtly glanced at me. Marco had thanked her with an exasperated smile after she insisted they took the extra package and almost dragged me out of the bakery with a scarlet-looking face when she winked exaggeratedly at me as I thanked her for the food.
I was feeling insanely better than just a few hours ago, eating pie with Marco while walking to the skating rink. I didn't even care about the cold that much anymore, not when Marco was making me laugh so hard, I choked on mouthfuls of dessert. It should bother me how easily this single person was able to table-turn my mood, but if I was being completely honest, I couldn't care less.
Of course, with the amount of luck I was experiencing the last few months, it didn't last long.
When we got to the skating rink, we were welcomed by locked doors and a 'closed' sign. I could feel my lingering smile slipping off my face, the light atmosphere Marco had so carefully built around us souring immediately.
I didn't want to be that asshole who got angry when things didn't go his way. But, God, I couldn't explain how desperately in need I was of getting on an ice rink. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a few hours and slide through the ice, forget all about this morning and just relax a little.
Marco picked up on my mood change immediately, and with an apologetic look, he excused himself saying something about calling his friend. I merely shrugged as an answer, walking towards a bench just across the skating rink and all but throwing myself down on it.
It didn't take long for Marco to come back, and by the look on his face, he didn't come with good news. I sighed and tried to lessen the scowl I knew I had on my face.
''So…'' He started, rubbing the back of his neck. Nervous habit, I thought. ''I called Mina and, well… the place is working normally, the only problem is that I kind of—uh, forgot to check their working hours.''
I stared at him in silence.
''They don't usually close so early,'' Marco continued when I said nothing. ''But Mina said they've been working only from nine to three because of Christmas week.''
I glanced up at the—ridiculously big—clock tower just a few streets away from where we were. It read half-past three. You got to be fucking kidding me—
I remained in silence, not trusting my words to not sound how I felt. It wasn't fair to Marco, who was just trying to make me feel better. But who the fuck doesn't check—No. Not doing that.
''Sorry,'' Marco said when the silence got a little too long.
'''S fine,'' I lied, voice a little muffled by the cinnamon roll I was still angrily biting into.
Marco gingerly sat next to me, mumbling a thanks when I passed him the package with his pastry in it. We ate in silence, Marco being way more graceful than me, who was not at all being subtle about how much I was taking out my frustration on the poor sugary roll.
A particularly cold wind blew past us, making me shiver from head to toe. Apparently, the fucking freezing snow covering the ground isn't enough, it has to be breezy too.
''Fucking cold weather,'' I grumbled under my breath, earning a light chuckle from right beside me.
''Want to head back?'' Marco asked, smiling a little when I turned to him. He looked a little reluctant but didn't say anything else.
I shrugged back, grunting a sure and getting to my feet. I wasn't particularly excited to go back to the house, but between that and this damn cold, I didn't really have to think much.
Marco walked a little ahead of me this time, mostly because he was the only one between us two who knew the way back. And maybe a little because I was dragging my feet through the snow rather than walking like a normal person. Whatever, I deserved to sulk a little. Today wasn't great.
We didn't really talk much this time, just some casual 'hey, look' from Marco and some brief memory from his childhood being told. I felt a little bad because I knew how excited Marco had been about showing his hometown to all of us, and I knew I was being a bad listener.
As we headed to the main road leading to the house, Marco suddenly stopped, head turned towards a little path going into the woods.
''I wonder if I still remember the way…'' I heard him mumble to himself, but before I could say anything, he was walking towards that path, only looking back over his shoulder to me when he realized I wasn't following. ''C'mon, Jean, I wanna show you something.''
I hesitated for a second before following him. I just hoped it wasn't too far, because now I could feel the cold seeping through my clothes, leaving goosebumps across my whole body.
::
I'm gotta be honest. If before I was a little frustrated, now I was full-on irritated.
Something about being in the middle of the woods made the already biting cold a thousand times worse. And it didn't help the fact that we had been walking around in circles for nearly twenty minutes. Well, it felt like circles to me, and probably to Marco too, because after about ten minutes, his excited expression morphed into a perplexed one, and now I could clearly see the confusion written across his face. He had said something about the snow covering the rest of the path. That didn't really make me feel better.
I was tired. I was cold. I was so goddamn frustrated. I was so fucking cold Jesus Christ. This day just kept getting better and better.
That little voice from earlier, the nagging little petty voice blaming Marco for the disaster of an afternoon we were having was way louder now. I tried suffocating it, I really did, but every time Marco hesitated before changing directions it got stronger.
I had lost count of how many times I had whined about the cold, trying to give Marco a hint that maybe we should just go back to the house. The first few times, he just chuckled back at me, teasing me about my low resistance, but by the fifteenth time, I could see his laugh turning a little dry, his lips pursing, and shoulders tensing.
''Are you sure you know where we're going?'' I asked again, thumping my feet as hard as I could against the fluffy ground. It did little to appease me. When Marco didn't answer, I huffed in annoyance. Great, now he's ignoring me. Nice.
I scowled at the snow, now thick and deep enough to reach halfway to my calves, and aimed a kick at a particularly higher mount of it. I instantly regretted it, because it was actually a rock covered in a thin layer of snow, which caused me to trip and almost fall on my face.
''Stupid rock,'' I grumbled to myself, angrily shaking off my leg, now covered in freezing weird ice almost up to my knee. I could feel it melting into my sweatpants, making me shiver again. I'm so tired of this fucking weather. ''I hate snow so fucking much, Jesus Christ! Marco, is this gonna take much longer 'cause I—''
''Oh my God!'' Marco suddenly yelled, turning back around sharply, making me almost bump against him. I flinched at the expression on his face, one I rarely got to see. He's pissed.
I could feel my mouth moving, opening and closing, but no sound could be heard. Any and every word I could possibly use at that moment simply vanished from my brain, only leaving behind the screech of red emergency lights blaring inside my head as I looked back at his hard stare. He's pissed. At me.
Marco's a very calm, easy-going person. He's not an innocent little angel, by any means (he's definitely not), but the amount of patience he has makes him look like one. He's gentle, he's kind—annoyingly so, sometimes. He's capable of dealing with basically anything people throw at him with a smile and soothing words. So, seeing his face like that, lips downturned, eyebrows pinched in a deep frown, and eyes as hard as stone looking back at me… unsettling was an understatement.
''Look, I'm sorry, okay?'' Marco started, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. ''I'm sorry I didn't check the skating rink's working hours, and I'm sorry I don't quite remember a path I last took when I was thirteen years old.'' He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing, ''I know you're tired, I know you're cold, and I know you're frustrated— I am too, okay? But you don't see me complaining about it every two seconds, do you?'' He dropped his hand, glaring back down at me.
I could count on one hand the number of times I had successfully reached Marco's patience limit, and each time (although very few) had been enough to make me extra careful about over-annoying him. The way Marco's whole face contorted when he's mad just scared the shit out of me.
That was probably why my brain felt too foggy and my tongue too heavy to say anything, making me stand there like an idiot, gawking at him.
''I know you've been stressed these last few weeks, that's why I insisted on coming here. I thought maybe getting you away from Trost could do you some good,'' He said after I kept quiet. ''But since we got here, all you've done is mope around and cut us out. I've been trying my best to make things better for you, Jean, trust me, but you just— you're not helping!''
I couldn't explain how goddamn awful I was feeling at that moment. I could clearly remember the conversation I had with Annie just a few hours ago, and how Marco had just confirmed all she had said.
''I'm sorry I tried doing something nice for you,'' Marco added after a few seconds of silence, looking away and fixing an innocent tree with his burning glare. ''Maybe next time I just won't bother.''
I had a feeling a punch in the gut would've hurt less than what he had said. Maybe it was selfish of me, but something about the thought of him finally having enough and realizing I wasn't worth the struggle was enough to knock the wind out of me.
The bone-rattling shiver that ran through my body had nothing to do with the cold weather this time.
Marco didn't know, though, and as he let his gaze slip back towards mine, he let out a loud sigh and reached up to his jacket's zipper, pulling it down in one swift motion. I watched in cautious (and confused) silence as he shrugged his jacket off, his yellow hoodie now the only thing fighting off the cold.
I broke the silence as he stepped towards me, holding the jacket out. ''I— What are you doing?''
''Take it,'' He simply said. I stared dumbly at him in return. He sighed again, stepping closer so he could press the jacket firmly against my chest. ''Just take it.''
Before I could say anything, he stepped back, letting go of the jacket. I scrambled to catch it before it could fall to the ground. I stared at him, gaping, as he refused to look at me, shoulders hitching up as he stiffly put his hands on his pockets.
''Marco,'' I said, still holding the jacket against my chest.
''That will fight off the cold a little more until we get back to the house,'' He explained, still not looking at me.
''Marco,'' I repeated, voice a little louder. He glanced up at me.
''Just take it, Jean.''
''Are you crazy?'' I retorted, and Marco's shoulders seemed to tense a little at my tone. I extended the jacket back at him, but he shook his head. ''You'll freeze.''
''I won't freeze. It's not even that cold.'' He shrugged. ''I'm more used to this weather than you are, anyway.''
I walked towards him slowly, still holding the jacket out. ''Marco. Take it,'' I insisted, firmer, but he shook his head again.
''You need it more than I do,'' He said, a whisper of the frown he had a couple of minutes ago coming back. ''You've been complaining about it for the past half an hour.''
I scowled at his words, and as I stopped in front of him, I pushed the jacket against his chest, just like he did to me, but a bit harder than necessary, making a soft oof sound slip through his lips.
''And I'll complain a lot more if you catch a cold or— something because of this,'' I growled back. ''So put the fucking jacket on, you idiot.''
Marco stared down at me for a moment, eyes boring into my own as if searching for something. I don't know if he found whatever it was, but he soon made a defeated kind of sound on the back of his throat and took the jacket from me, putting it back on, eyes anywhere but on me again.
We stood in silence for a moment, avoiding each other's eyes. I hugged myself tightly, letting out an angry huff at the damned cold, and shuffled my feet against the snow.
I felt so, so guilty. Annie was absolutely right— Marco had planned the trip because of me, for me, and all I had done so far was act like an absolute asshole and make Marco mad enough to yell at me. He never yelled.
''I'm sorry.'' I looked up at Marco as his voice cut the thick silence around us. Something tinged painfully inside my chest from hearing those two words from him. I should be the one saying that. ''I shouldn't have yelled. Or said all that,'' He mumbled, looking a little ashamed at his outburst.
''Don't apologize, Marco,'' I sighed, raking a hand through my hair as I let out a dry chuckle. ''I kinda deserved it.''
Marco didn't say anything, and as I glanced up at him again, worried he was still angry, I noticed he was focusing on something behind me. But before I could say anything, he was tugging me by my jacket towards a natural opening between winter-naked trees. I didn't say anything as he practically dragged me along, walking confidently towards… somewhere.
He let out a laugh as we suddenly stopped, and when I looked ahead to what he had been leading me towards, I felt my breath hitch inside my chest.
We were at some deserted, secluded clearing, the trees opening up around a big, pale blue, and entirely frozen lake. It didn't look like a tourist place, not with the tricky and hidden path which led there, but it seemed like at least the town people knew about it. It had multiple wooden benches around the lake, and streetlamps scattered along the edges of the clearing. It looked beautiful, almost ethereal, the trees and mountains around us making it feel… intimate.
I looked back at Marco—I had walked ahead of him without even realizing—, taking in the absolutely gorgeous smile on his lips. He looked so pleased, almost sheepishly so. He glanced back at me and laughed at the probably awestruck expression I had on.
''Beautiful, right?'' He said, smile getting even bigger. ''I used to come here a lot when I was younger but haven't seen it since I move out to the big city.'' Marco looked out towards the lake. ''I skated here a lot with my friend, Mina. It's not exactly unknown from people who live here, but I still felt like it was sort of, uh, my special little secret, y'know? My parents didn't know about it, so it felt pretty confidential for little ten-year-old me.'' He chuckled, and his eyes seemed to soften a little as he looked back at me. ''I thought it could be a good enough replacement since the rink was closed.''
Jesus Christ.
''I'm so, so sorry, Marco,'' I blurted out.
Marco immediately frowned, thrown off by the sudden apology. ''What—?''
''Oh my god,'' I interrupted him and covered my face with both hands. Jesus, I felt so fucking guilty.
I felt two hands firmly grab my shoulders but kept my hands over my face. Then suddenly those hands were closing around my own, gently pulling them away from my eyes. I looked up to find Marco staring down at me, concerned eyes flitting between my own.
''I'm so sorry,'' I repeated, and before he could ask what the hell I was on about, I continued, ''The whole day you've been trying to cheer me up, doing all those nice little things for me. You even bought me dessert,'' I pointed out. ''And all I did in return was complain, and whine, and bitch about this and that.'' I tugged a hand out of Marco's grip and cupped my forehead in frustration. ''You've been aceing the best friend act and all I've done was being a fucking asshole, ugh. I'm so sorry.''
Marco didn't say anything for a while, and I was okay with that. I needed that shitty feeling to stab me for a moment. (It had nothing to do with the fact he was still holding onto my hand. No, obviously not.)
I felt him tugging on my hand. ''C'mon,'' I heard him say, softly.
He guided me to one of the wooden benches, sitting down and pulling gently at my hand again, silently telling me to sit next to him.
''What is going on, Jean?''
Oh, yeah. Marco had no idea. I don't know how I managed to go months without telling him about it. I guess I felt a little… silly, for how much it affected—and was affecting me. I should have been prepared for that, shouldn't I? It's normal. Things change. People change. I should've seen it coming. Right?
I didn't really understand why I felt reluctant about telling Marco, out of all people. It wasn't like he was going to judge me or anything. Actually, he was probably going to be really nice and understanding. But, still… something made me hide it from him, and it was probably the wrong choice because it led us to months of me slowly losing my grip on my temper and Marco getting so worried he planned a whole vacation believing it would help me.
Regretfully, I released my hand from Marco's own and occupied myself with opening my shoulder bag and getting my ice skates out.
''Mikasa asked Levi to change pairs,'' I said as I unlaced my shoes, avoiding Marco's eyes. ''And, uh, he did.''
For a moment, Marco said nothing. He cleared his throat, then, ''I… wasn't expecting that.''
''Ha. Neither was I.''
''Was that what you and Mikasa were talking about this morning?'' Marco asked, and I could see him getting closer, trying to catch my eyes. I just nodded as an answer.
I busied myself with putting away my shoes and putting my skates on. I hadn't brought my professional ones (that's what Sasha called them, they were just the ones I used for competitions), opting for my practice ones. Differently from the black tournament skates, these were just as white as the snow surrounding us at that moment. Levi always insisted me and Mikasa had two distinct pairs of skates, chastising us about keeping the ''professional'' ones always clean.
I looked up at Marco when he didn't say anything for a while. He was staring right back at me, a clear question in his eyes, but like the amazing friend he was, he didn't want to pressure me into talking. So I continued.
''Things have been… off between Mikasa and me for some time now,'' I said, focusing back at the task of putting the ice skates on. ''So, I guess it wasn't that much of a surprise. Still sucks, though.''
Marco hummed. ''Is that what's been bothering you these last couple of months?''
''Yeah,'' I confirmed. ''Practice started getting really weird, y'know? We just weren't in sync anymore, she seemed really distracted and just… not there. And I just couldn't understand why.'' I let out a dry chuckle at that. ''I guess now I know.'' Marco made a questioning sound in the back of his throat, and I looked up at him, a wry smile on my face. ''She started acting like that around the same time she and Eren started dating.''
It took him a moment. Then his mouth curved into a silent ''oh''. ''Don't tell me…''
''Yep,'' I said, making an exaggerated popping sound at the end. ''They're a pair now.''
''I—Wow, okay,'' Marco stuttered, leaning back on the bench until his back was pressed against it. He seemed to be struggling to find what to say; I couldn't blame him. ''That's, uh. Pretty shitty, actually.''
I let out a genuine laugh at that. ''Yeah, it is.''
We fell into a somewhat comfortable silence after that, and Marco copied me, getting his skates off his bag, and starting the process of putting them on. As I started lacing one of mine, I let my mind wander through all the thoughts that had passed my mind a few hours ago, under the duvet of our bed.
''I don't blame her for wanting to change pairs, you know?'' I started, making Marco pause on what he was doing. He kept going when he saw I was still lacing my skates. I sighed before I continued, ''I mean, I know how important this is for her— it's really important for me too. And if we're not working together anymore, we should move on, we should change. Of course I would be sad, and confused, and frustrated—and I am. I love skating with Mikasa! I'm not…'' I huffed in frustration, straightening up after successfully putting both skates on. ''The problem isn't the fact she changed pairs— it's the fact she did it without even talking to me.
''Mikasa and I have been skating together for, what? Four years? A long-ass time. And she wasn't just my partner, she was—is one of my closest friends. It sucks that we've grown out of what we had together, but what hurts the most is how she decided something so important, so big for the both of us, on her own, without even telling me,'' I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. ''Well, she did tell me. But just after everything was said and done. I just—'' I brought a hand up to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose as I exhale forcefully. I let my hand fall limply on my lap when I felt a warm hand on my knee, and as I looked up at Marco, I was met with kind, sympathetic eyes. ''I feel betrayed.''
Silence surrounded us again, but it wasn't a heavy, tense kind of silence. Not with how Marco was looking at me. I let myself stare, bathing on the brightness of his eyes, the softness around them. The hand he still had on my knee slid slightly up, enough so he could grab the hand resting on my thigh. Marco smiled then, and got up to his feet, pulling at my hand so I would get up too.
''C'mon,'' He said so softly it could be mistaken by a whisper, tugging me so I would follow him to the frozen lake.
I felt a little dumb over how lighter my whole body felt as soon as my skates slid through the ice. Marco kept holding my hand as we glided along the frozen surface, letting our shoulders drop and the cold breeze run along our faces, ruffling our hair. The lake was big enough that it took us a couple of minutes to run around the entirety of it; I really didn't mind, though, allowing the swift motion of our feet and the warm feeling of Marco's hand in mine lull me into an almost dream-like feeling.
The sudden pulling of my hand brought me back to reality, and when I glanced at Marco, he was grinning, tugging my hand almost gently in a suggestive question. I smiled back in response, and soon we were both picking up speed and trading the steady slide to a more focused, brisk pace.
I let out a surprised yelp when Marco suddenly yanked at my hand, pulling me towards him, and then I was spinning, his arm going around my waist before he pushed me away again. A bright giggle escaped my lips as I stopped suspended in the air, weight supported by Marco as he still held fast to my hand. He beamed at me, pleased with my reaction, and pulled me towards him again, guiding me through a sharp turn.
I let myself enjoy Marco's spontaneous movements, allowing him to spin me a few more times, and to be guided by his swift slides and turns. I barked out a laugh when, without further notice, he skated ahead of me, only to turn back around and grab me by the waist, lifting me up for a good five seconds before gently letting me down. I knew he was more than used to do that kind of stuff with Annie, but she was a petite girl, certainly a lot less heavy than me; you could say I was fairly impressed by that.
I could feel Marco getting braver and braver with his moves, his body expertly moving with and around mine. I tried committing to memory all those lingering touches, hand on hand, arms around my waist, hand sliding up my spine; it was addicting. We moved together with ease, with confidence, without a clear choreography, but in perfect sync.
I was so absorbed on all of it, on Marco, that my mind only registered the overly used steps when we were already halfway there. He was holding my hand again and pulling me towards himself, hand slipping to my wrist as he lifted my arm up and spun me around again, but this time, I felt his other hand on my waist, sliding around it until it rested firmly on the small of my back. Instead of untangling himself from me, so we could pick up the pace again, he held tight, skidding us to a halt on the slippery ice.
In a second, I found myself looking up at him, faces inches apart. I could count all the freckles scattered across his cheeks from how close we were, his hot breath puffing against my face. My arm was resting on his shoulder, but not quite around it, trying to balance my weight as he still held a firm grip on my wrist with one hand, while the other kept splayed on my back as he literally held me oh my god what the fuck—
I could see how unexpected that had been for Marco too, as he looked back at me, chocolate brown eyes blown wide. But he didn't make a move to untangle himself from me, instead, he tightened his hold on my wrist, and I watched in quiet shock as his eyes ever so slowly started to go down, down, down my face, until his gaze was unmistakably on my oh my god is he looking at my lips what the actual fuck—
My breath stuttered inside my chest as I felt Marco bend down towards me, his face getting even closer as his eyes flitted from my mouth to my eyes. My eyes unconsciously fluttered shut as I felt Marco's nose brush again mine, his breath hot against my mouth as he—
We sprang apart with a yelp from me and an almost faceplant on the ice from Marco when his phone started to ring loudly from his jacket pocket. Marco scrambled to unzip it and grabbed his mobile, answering it immediately.
''H-hello?'' He stammered, pausing as he heard the voice on the other side speak. ''Hey, Sasha. Uh, what's up?''
I could distantly hear Marco talking to Sasha on the phone, but my brain just wouldn't process the words. It was too busy trying to understand what the fuck had just happened. Or almost did.
Were we about to… Was Marco really going to…?
Jesus Christ.
Marco and I almost kissed.
Marco almost kissed me.
Everything in me was screaming that no, there was no way he was going to kiss you, you delusional idiot, but then what just happened? Marco checked all the boxes of the 'I'm about to kiss you right now' list: he leaned in, he looked at my goddamn mouth for fuck's sake, he got so close I could probably count every single one of his eyelashes—
''We're about, uh… fifteen minutes away. Why?'' I heard Marco say, and was snapped out of my thoughts in favor of tuning in on their conversation. ''Oh. No, it's fine. Yeah. It's gonna get dark soon, anyway.''
I pushed my jacket's sleeve up for a moment, glancing down at my watch. It was a little past four-fifty. Marco was right; soon we would have to tread through the trees in the dark, and I wasn't looking forward to that.
''What? Of course I am,'' Marco replied, and I could hear what sounded like… panic in his voice. I let my eyes trail across his face for a moment, but he wasn't looking at me, eyes fixed at the ground. ''No, Sasha. No. Yeah, I'm sure. I—Okay,'' His voice took a firmer tone then, and I knew he was trying to stop Sasha from going on about whatever she was saying. ''Okay, I'm hanging up. I'm—Bye!''
Marco let out an exasperated sigh as he hung up the phone. I noticed how tense his movements seemed to be, his shoulders stiff as he put his phone back inside his jacket's pocket, zipping it back up. It only seemed to get worse when he finally looked back at me, and I felt my heart immediately sink to the ground as I took in the expression on his face.
Oh no.
''We should head back,'' He said, his voice much lower than I expected. He cleared his throat. ''The cold only gets worse once it's dark.''
Marco didn't wait for me to agree, or to say anything, he turned back towards the bench we left our stuff, sliding away. I didn't move, feeling my chest so, so tight, and I let my voice fill the silence without even thinking.
''Marco, wait,'' My voice sounded so weak I externally cringed at it. But Marco heard it anyway, and I could see the hesitance in his body language before he turned back to me. Once again, it pained me to see the expression on his face. His shoulders were so tense, and he couldn't even keep eye contact. I wanted so desperately to talk to him, to understand, but I knew it wasn't the right moment. He looked like a cornered animal, terrified, and I understood nothing was going to come out right if I pressed him now. ''Uh. It's nothing. Forget it.''
The relief on his face was almost palpable, but it soon dissolved to a false neutral one. I followed him to the bench, and we changed back to our shoes in silence— it wasn't the comfortable, natural one we had before. It was tense now, almost awkward. It hurt more than anything.
''What did Sasha want?'' I said when the silence became too unbearable. I pretended not to see how he flinched at my voice.
''She said Reiner wants to make a movie night or something like that,'' He answered, eyes focused on his fingers lacing his shoes. ''Wants to order some pizza, make some popcorn. Everyone is back already except for us.''
''It's not even five-thirty yet,'' I point out. ''Isn't it too early for a movie night?''
''Yeah, but Reiner wants me to take him to the grocery store to buy some stuff. He's afraid of getting lost.'' He got up as he finished with his shoes, putting his skates back on his shoulder bag. ''I also don't want to be out when it's too dark outside.''
I hummed at that, not nothing what else to say, and just turned back to finish lacing my own shoes and putting my skates away. We didn't say anything else as we got up and headed towards the same path as we came through.
::
For the majority of our way back, a little more than fifteen minutes, Marco didn't say a single word.
I trailed a little behind him, not sure if I should walk closer or give him even more space. Multiple times I thought about doing or saying something, anything, but I would always remember that look he had on his face when he looked at me at the lake, and swallow everything back.
Marco had looked confused. And alarmed. And so, so scared. That's what hurt the most to see reflected back at me on his wide eyes. I wanted to reach out and tell him that it's okay, it's fine, but I knew better than to try and pull him out of where he currently was— he wasn't going to listen to me.
And, besides, what would I even say? I didn't even know what exactly had happened back there at the lake. Did Marco really mean to do that? If he didn't, was he ashamed of himself? Was he confused because I didn't lean back? And if he did, was he afraid of how I would react? I wanted to know, to understand, but now wasn't the moment. Maybe later, after dinner, after the movie. Perhaps until then, both of us could have everything sorted out.
And also, be warmer. I really didn't want to have that conversation in the middle of a street drowned in snow, shivering my brains out.
Almost on command, a cold breeze ran past us, ruffling my hair and making me inhale a sharp breath at the unpleasant feeling. I swore I couldn't feel my ears nor my nose anymore, they could've been completely frozen by now for all I knew.
I didn't even notice when Marco slowed down to my side, and suddenly there was an extra weight on my shoulders. I snapped my head towards him, only to find Marco wearing only his hoodie, hands deep on its pockets.
''We're not too far from the house, now,'' He said for the first time in a while, but his eyes were staring straight ahead.
I fought against a frustrated sigh. ''Marco,'' I said, quietly. I hoped he could sense what was behind my words; I was afraid to say more, scared of making him close off again.
''You need it more than I do, Jean,'' He replied, similar to what he had said not so long ago, but different in its meaning; he wasn't angry. He was just… worried. ''You're shivering,'' I felt my breath stutter on my chest when he finally looked back at me. His eyes were soft, full of things I didn't have enough time to understand, but which made me frown all the same. ''Please.''
I shook my head in mild exasperation, but relented, hugging the brown jacket, which stayed hung across my shoulders, around myself. If that had been any other day, any other situation, I would've socked him in the arm and told him to take the fucking jacket back, but that wasn't just any day, any situation. I muttered a quiet yet sincere thanks, basking on the extra heat provided by his jacket.
When we arrived, Marco was quick to get inside and find Reiner, who was strewn across the couch, head resting on Berthold's lap while his feet were on Annie's, who didn't seem all too pleased over it. They were watching some random reality show on the TV, but none of them seemed to be too enthralled by it. Sasha and Connie were squished against each other on the armchair, whispering loudly at each other over something on Sasha's phone. I could see what seemed to be Historia and Mikasa by the kitchen counter, but I didn't dare glance their way.
''Oh, hey guys!'' Historia greeted us as we entered the living room. Everyone looked away from what they were doing to us, and I suddenly felt the need to fidget under their attention. I pointedly ignored Annie's stare.
''Hey,'' Marco said back, smiling warmly at her before turning to Reiner, who was already getting up from the couch. ''I thought we could go to the grocery store right now? It's getting dark soon.''
''Sure,'' Reiner replied. He stretched his back before leaning down to press a quick kiss on Berthold's lips as an I'll be right back, and turned back at Marco, nodding at him.
Marco nodded back. ''Lemme just get a jacket, and we'll go.''
I frowned as Marco passed by me without so much as a glance, heading towards the stairs to our room. His jacket, still on my shoulders, weighted like a bag full of rocks, and I didn't know how to feel about that. With a jolt, I realized I was still standing in the middle of the entrance and as I looked back at my friends, they were all staring back at me, sporting a series of different amused expressions. I scowled at Reiner's smirk and felt heat rush to my face as I caught Connie and Sasha whispering at each other again, but this time, very pointedly staring at me, teasing grins on their faces.
Ducking my head down, I crossed the living room towards the house's back door, which led to a small porch and a large backyard. Without looking back, I went out the door, closing it behind me with what I hoped sounded like a clear don't follow me. I knew running away like that wasn't going to help their speculations, but I really wasn't feeling like dealing with all that, not right now. It was still cold as shit outside, but I guessed the freezing wind could successfully cool off the burning feeling on my face.
I sat down on the porch steps, making myself as small as possible to try and fight off the cold better. I hugged Marco's jacket tighter against me and shamefully breathed in what I knew was undeniably his cologne. It was so sweet, and so pleasant, and so him. I buried my nose in it for a moment and oh god I'm so fucked.
I didn't know how much time I spent staring out at the screamingly white backyard before I heard the door opening, then closing behind me. I lifted my head and turned towards it, immediately feeling my chest constrict at the sight of Mikasa with two mugs in hand, one black and one dark green, looking at me with what I could identify as apprehension and… concern.
''Hey,'' She said, softly. ''Historia made some hot chocolate.''
There was a clear question in her eyes, I could see it. She was asking if that was okay, if she could step inside the defensive bubble I had built around myself. It was so weird to see her like that, so subdued, so unsure of herself; it didn't help the tightness on my chest.
I let a little smile lift one side of my mouth as consent. It didn't feel as forced as I thought it would.
That brought out a little smile from Mikasa as well, and she came closer, handing me the dark green mug. It was pleasantly hot against my hands, verging on too hot, and I mumbled a quiet thanks to her. She quirked one side of her lips as a reply. She didn't sit next to me, instead turning away and staring out at the large backyard. We stayed together in silence for a while, enough for the sky to go from a soft pink to a dark purple. Mikasa was the one to break the silence.
''I'm sorry,'' She breathed out, and if I wasn't so aware of her presence, I might've not heard it. ''I should've talked to you.''
I sighed, long and heavy, but said nothing. I took a sip from my now warm drink. She took my steady silence as her cue to continue.
''You have every right to be angry, and to not want to talk to me,'' Mikasa said. She had both hands wrapped around her mug, eyes focused on her almost finished hot chocolate. ''And I'll understand if that's what you need right now.''
''I'm not angry, Mikasa,'' I replied, voice just a little louder than a whisper.
She looked down at me, looking surprised. ''No?''
''No,'' I echoed back. ''I'm just hurt.''
Mikasa didn't say anything else for a while, looking somewhat conflicted. I saw her frown for a moment before she lowered herself, sitting next to me. She put her mug down in the space between us.
''I think part of me wanted you to be angry,'' She started, slowly, as if testing out the words. I glanced at her, confused. ''Anger I can handle. I can deal with that.'' She sighed and turned her head towards me, grey eyes flitting across my face, searching. ''I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with that.''
I chuckled. Mikasa was right; she did know how to handle anger—she was dating Eren, out of all people. Something seemed to shift on her face at my lingering smile.
''See?'' She frowned at me, bemused. ''You've been avoiding me all day, but now you're talking and even laughing. I'm not sure if I should give you space or just… act normal.'' I looked away at that, the smile slipping off my face. I heard her sigh. ''Are we… okay?''
I stayed quiet for a moment. I wasn't angry at her; I really wasn't. But what she did, it really sucked. I was hurt, and sad, and frustrated. Although I wasn't sure if her giving me space was going to solve anything, I also didn't think acting normal was going to make it better.
''I wish you had talked to me,'' I started. I put my mug down next to hers before continuing, ''I was still going to be sad about it. I love skating with you, you know that.'' I watched as she drew her knees closer to her body, hugging them against her chest, and I knew she felt the same. ''But I wouldn't have tried to stop you or anything like that. I love to have you as my partner, but if we don't work together anymore… we move on.
''What you did… it really hurt. And it's going to hurt for a while. But it doesn't mean I don't want you around.'' I glanced at her at that and found her already looking at me. ''It's gonna be weird for some time, I guess. But you're one of my closest friends Mikasa, I'm not… I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to.''
Mikasa looked away after I finished, but I could see a little smile lifting the corner of her lips. She didn't say anything, just nodding curtly to show she understood, and I was glad. I guess silence was something I could handle better than talking right now.
Both of us turned at the sound of the door opening behind us. It was Connie, leaning against the door frame.
''Marco's asking for your guys' preferred pizza flavor,'' He said.
''They're back already?'' Mikasa asked, picking her mug from the floor, and getting up.
''Yep,'' Connie replied, making an extra popping sound at the end. ''We're starting the movie soon, by the way, so you guys should come in.''
''What are we watching?'' I asked, copying Mikasa and getting up.
''I dunno.'' He shrugged. ''Some kind of drama or something. Sasha picked it.''
With that, Connie turned and went back inside, leaving Mikasa and me to trail behind him back to the living room.
::
The movie ended up being a comedy thriller, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. I'm not sure how good it actually was, because even though my eyes were, during its majority, fixed on the TV, my mind was elsewhere. Or more specifically, on the armchair on the other side of the couch I was sat on, where Marco had been throughout the whole movie, shoulders tense and body stiff.
The pizza had arrived halfway through the movie, and everyone went at it like crazy, plates above heads and mouths full talking over each other and the characters on the TV. Except for Marco. He couldn't have eaten more than two slices, and both were shoved into his hands by a stern-looking Annie. I was half-tempted myself to do the same, knowing he hadn't eaten anything other than a slice of pie and a cinnamon roll the whole afternoon. He munched on his pizza during almost the entirety of the movie, looking distracted.
It was still early by the time the movie ended, and after half an hour of discussion (or more accurately, Ymir and Eren talking over each other) on what to watch next, Ymir snatched the remote from Connie's hand and put on the third season of one of her favorite TV shows half of us hadn't watched yet, complaining loudly about our scandalous bad taste entertainment-wise.
I half-pretended to and half-watched as the episodes came and went. Everyone seemed to be between the same as me or pretty into it; Sasha, Connie, and Eren were commenting over it along with Ymir, who kept pointing at the screen and slapping me (the closest one to her besides her girlfriend) on the chest whenever some scene she liked came on. Historia seemed more or less interested, but it looked like she had already seen it (I wouldn't doubt Ymir had made her watch it before), along with Armin and Mikasa, who nodded along with Ymir's comments but seemed mildly bored. Reiner ended up sleeping some time during it, and Bertholdt followed close behind — Reiner got a mouthful of a couch cushion when Ymir realized he dozed off, and Marco, ever the kind one, discreetly tapped on Bertholdt's shoulder, waking him up before the feral woman noticed it too.
I had decided to try and talk to Marco after the movie (and TV show) night finished. Until then, I hoped he would be able to listen to me, and I would know what to say. The thing was, the credits from the last episode were already rolling down the TV screen and Reiner was officially calling off the night, and I still had no idea what to say to him.
I mean, I could always go up to him and ask if he had tried to kiss me and why, and be done with it, but I knew that wasn't the way to do it. I knew Marco, I knew how unconfrontational he was, and how such a direct question would only serve as fuel to make him retreat into his shell again.
Everyone started to get up and stretch out, commenting about the latest happening in the episode; I wasn't really paying attention. Marco seemed to snap out of wherever his head was through the whole night and got up to help Mikasa gather all the plates and cups scattered around the living room. I helped Bertholdt with the pizza boxes, folding them into each other and throwing them away.
I was picking the last one up when I caught Marco slipping away from the kitchen towards the stairs. I—shamefully, I admit—jogged to the trash can by the sink, throwing the box away and turning towards the stairs as well, watching as Marco disappeared upstairs.
I was stopped by a hand firmly gripping my bicep and yanking back, and I stumbled back, almost going over Historia, who had been passing through just a moment before. I looked over to who had pulled me, finding Reiner still holding my arm.
''Where do you think you're going?'' He lilted, smirking down at me. ''You're on dish duty tonight, bud.''
I scowled at that, shoulders dropping. I completely forgot about it. I looked towards the stairs and after letting out a resigned sigh, turned back towards the kitchen, hitching my hoodie sleeves up. The punishment of not following the washing up rules was a punch from everyone— it had happened to me once already, at the beginning of the trip, and even though Armin had been clear on his 'no hurting' speech, I still held purple and green bruises on my arm from Reiner's and Ymir's punches. I wasn't about to get a second round, no thank you. Marco could wait a few minutes.
By the time I was almost done with the dishes, everyone had cleared off the living room, besides Connie and Sasha, who were screaming over some early morning sport's match they were watching on the TV. I tuned them off after some time, trying to think about what I was planning on telling Marco.
I was so focused on my own thoughts that I didn't even notice when Annie slipped into the kitchen with me, and almost dropped a plate as I flinched in surprise when she cleared her throat, trying to get my attention. She had to stop doing that, I swear to God. She didn't wait for me to properly catch my breath before she spoke.
''What happened?'' She asked, simple and direct. I made a confused noise back at her, not sure what she was talking about. She crossed her arms, looking impatient. ''Marco. What happened?''
Oh, yeah. Of course Annie would know something happened.
I sighed, putting away the plate I had been holding and turning the facet off. Finished with the dishes, I dried my hands off with a dishtowel I had hanging on my shoulder.
''To be honest, I don't even know myself,'' I replied, honestly.
Annie seemed to think over my words for a moment, blue eyes flitting across my face like she was contemplating something. Just as I was about to start fidgeting over her silence and intense glare, she spoke again.
''Did Marco… do something?''
That made me pause.
''I mean…'' I said, slowly. ''You could say that.'' I crossed my arms too, watching as her eyes narrowed a bit at my words.
Annie hummed in acknowledgment. ''And… were you against it?''
Huh.
I considered her for a moment. ''No.''
''Are you against it?'' She pressed.
I wasn't really sure where exactly that was going, and Annie wasn't the first person on my list of people I thought of confessing about what I felt, but something told me I should be honest.
''No,'' I repeated, and that was the truth. I wasn't against it, and it would've definitely had happened if Sasha hadn't called Marco. I hoped it could still happen.
Annie seemed a little surprised at first, then somewhat satisfied. She finally looked away, nodding slowly at what I had said. She uncrossed her arms, putting her hands inside her pants' pockets.
''Okay. Good,'' She settled, and I felt weirdly proud of myself.
I quickly muttered an excuse about needing to go upstairs before things got too awkward between us. I grabbed mine and Marco's jacket, which I had left on the couch's arm earlier that evening, and hopped up the stairs.
The master bedroom was at the end of the hallway, and as I got to the closed door, I took a deep, steadying breath before turning the knob. I already had Marco's name on the tip of my tongue when I realized the lights were off, and I could faintly see what looked like Marco, already under the covers, sleeping. I checked the time— it read a little over half-past two.
Well. I guess not today, then.
I tiptoed around the room, putting the jackets away… somewhere, and picked up my bag so I could go change in the bathroom without making too much noise. I put on a different pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, going back to the bedroom, and slipping under the covers.
The bed was really big, enough for Marco and me to sleep on it without coming close to touching each other. Which I was extremely aware of. Marco seemed to be curled into himself on his side of the bed like he was trying to put as much distance as he could between us. I pretended that didn't bother me as much as it did.
I wiggled around the bed for a bit, finding a comfortable position, before putting my earphones on and closing my eyes, trying to go to sleep.
We could always talk in the morning.
::
I couldn't sleep.
I had always been a fast sleeper; Marco would tease me about how he could count until ten after I had gone to bed and I would already be out cold. But for the life of me, I just couldn't fucking sleep.
From the moment I laid down, my brain suddenly kicked into action, and I just couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Marco was right there, the same Marco who had almost kissed me hours earlier at the frozen lake. He was right there, if I reached across the mattress, I could touch him and he had almost fucking kissed me—
I willed my brain to just shut up and deal with it in the morning, but it wouldn't listen to me.
I tried changing positions, turning to my right side, but then I was facing Marco, and yeah that just makes it worse. I laid down on my back then, staring straight up towards the ceiling, which only lasted for about half an hour before my back started to hurt. I turned around again, laying on my stomach, head resting on top of my crossed arms— it lasted even less and I cursed my shitty back.
It was almost six o'clock by the time I gave up entirely. It had been over three hours of mindless turning around and absolutely no sleep, I needed to get up and go do something else. I was making myself go crazy.
I got up and blindly reached for one of my hoodies I had scattered across the bedroom floor, also grabbing what I was pretty sure was my jacket. I couldn't remember where I had thrown it at after going to bed. I padded through the room, stumbling over my own feet as I fought my way through putting the hoodie on towards the glass sliding door, which led to a closed-off balcony. I thanked Marco's parents for thinking of putting window-like glass panels around the balcony because it meant I was able to go outside without immediately freezing my ass off.
I sat down on a wooden bench by the wall, curling into myself and draping the jacket around me, which was when I realized that was not my jacket, but Marco's dark brown one. Oh well.
It was still dark out; Marco had said sunrise was usually around seven during winter. I let my eyes wander through the house's front yard, finding a sort of peace in the still early morning.
I had first realized I liked Marco more than just a friend when I was fifteen. We were friends for a little over a year by then, and I couldn't begin to describe how absolutely terrified I had been at that realization. Marco was one of my closest friends, my best friend. I remember feeling like I was violating some sort of deal best friends silently held between each other by feeling like that, and for some time I even tried denying it, but it didn't last long. How could I explain away the way my heart stopped and breath hitched over the lightest touches, or how my face burned a deep scarlet whenever our friends would playfully tease us, stumbling over my words when Marco would laugh it off, an absolutely gorgeous smile on his lips, or how my stomach would turn into itself, trying to digest that damned butterflies whenever that smile was directed at me? I couldn't.
I came to terms with it eventually, accepting those were my true feelings towards him and that I couldn't change that, no matter how hard I tried. I also came to terms with the fact it would probably never be reciprocated, and I was okay with that. Mostly.
But earlier today, back at the frozen lake, that had changed.
I was pretty sure Marco had almost kissed me. Everything pointed towards it, I just didn't want to convince myself of its complete significance for fear of hurting myself if, by some weird, impossible way, it was all inside my head.
The way Marco had reacted, it scared me a bit. After Sasha's call, he couldn't even look me in the eyes, and the number of times he talked to me, specifically, was so scarce it made even our friends look a little confused. I guess if it had been me who had tried to kiss him, I too would be very embarrassed, but he was acting like he had done something just downright scandalous.
I propped my knees up on the bench, resting my chin on them. Marco's jacket still smelled strongly of him, and it hurt a little. But it was also making me a lot warmer, so I guess that was that.
I didn't know how much time I spent like that, mulling over the afternoon I had, eyes trailing along the dark street before I heard the glass door slid open and Marco appeared on the balcony.
He looked like he had just woken up, eyes still a little clogged up from sleep, movements slightly sluggish as he slid the door closed. He was wearing a thick-looking navy-blue sweater, and grey sweatpants, feet bare besides a pair of black socks he wore to sleep. His hair was sticking up everywhere, a contrast to the neat look it always had during the day, and it only got worse as he absentmindedly ran a hand through it.
I felt my breath stutter on my chest as his eyes locked with mine.
''Hey,'' His voice was deep and a little hoarse from sleep. He cleared his throat before continuing. ''What are you doing here? It's cold.''
I could only shrug. Then, I suddenly became extremely aware of the fact I had his jacket around my shoulders. ''Couldn't sleep,'' I settled on.
Marco seemed to wake up a little at that, brow furrowed and posture a little straighter. He took a step forward but immediately stopped, looking unsure.
''Uh… Can I—?'' He pointed towards the bench I was sitting at.
I scooted to the side a little, sending him a little smile, hoping it looked inviting enough. '''Course.''
Marco sheepishly walked to the bench, sitting next to me, and I was once again painfully aware of the distance between us. He made a point of not brushing his side against mine as he leaned back on the bench, I realized. It stung a little.
We sat in silence for what felt like hours, but it could only have been a few minutes. I started playing with a piece of string coming out of my hoodie's sleeve, not sure if I should say something or wait for him to take the lead. I had wanted to talk to him since we left the secluded clearing, but now I had no idea what to do or say.
I saw Marco shift slightly at my side, his head slowly turning towards me. I looked back, and just as he seemed to be about to say something, I saw him frown, eyes snapping down to the jacket around my shoulders. I froze.
''Is that my jacket?'' He asked.
I faltered. ''Y-yeah. Uh.'' I curled a bit more into myself, slightly tightening my hold on the jacket. ''I grabbed it by accident.''
Marco looked bemused, still frowning at the jacket as if he was trying really hard to understand something.
''Sorry, I, uh—'' I started, uneasy, and moved to slip the piece of clothing off and hand it back to him, but Marco's eyes quickly flitted up towards mine.
''No!'' He said hastily, raising his hands in a stop gesture. ''No. It's okay, I don't— I don't mind.''
I paused for a moment, examining the expression on his face, before placing the jacket back on my shoulder, sinking a little on it.
An awkward kind of silence fell around us then, oppressing and unwelcoming. I swallowed my hesitance back forcefully and turned towards Marco before I could talk myself out of it.
''Marco—''
''I'm—''
I closed my mouth with an almost audible snap after Marco and I stumbled over each other's words. Marco seemed to shrink a little into his sweater, looking flustered. He cleared his throat.
''You go first,'' He said, nodding at me.
I turned away from him, letting my eyes settle on the dark street again.
''I think we should talk about what happened… back at the lake.''
Marco blanched, and I fought against curling into his jacket even further.
''Y-yeah,'' He stuttered.
Neither of us said anything else, letting the unsettling silence fall between us again. I clenched my jaw, cursing myself for not knowing what to say. I let a sharp huff out and decided to just come out with the first thing that came into mind, but Marco beat me to it.
''I'm sorry,'' He blurted out, sounding meek.
I snapped my head towards him, confused and slightly alarmed at his voice.
''I'm really sorry about earlier, I— Ugh,'' He groaned loudly, rubbing a hand over his face. ''I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have— I didn't mean to do that.'' Marco glanced at me, but hastily looked away when he caught my eyes. ''I just. Forgot myself for a moment. I really didn't mean to do that.''
Oh.
''You didn't?'' I asked, not finding in myself to care that much about how weak I sounded.
''No. No,'' Marco said, shaking his head vehemently, still not looking at me. ''I didn't. I really didn't. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—''
Oh.
''It's okay,'' I found myself saying, interrupting him. Marco shut his mouth instantly, but he didn't seem convinced. ''It's okay,'' I insisted.
I watched as he looked down for a moment, biting his bottom lip. Nervous tick, my mind supplied. I told it to shut up.
''Are we okay?'' He finally asked after a moment, eyes dragging upwards to meet mine.
'''Course we are,'' I replied, lifting one side of my lip into what I hoped seemed a convincing enough grin.
Marco let out a deep breath at that, body slumping back on the wooden bench. ''Okay. Good,'' He said, softly.
Silence fell around us again, but it wasn't awkward. Marco seemed relieved, and I guess I was glad for it. I slid slightly down on the bench, burying my nose in his jacket as I took a deep, steadying breath and almost choked when the sweet aroma of his cologne overtook me. I resisted the urge to slap myself in the face.
Yeah, of course he didn't mean it. Of fucking course. Why would he, anyway? I mean, look at me. Why would he want to do that? I really should've just trusted that mean little voice telling me there's no fucking way he was going to kiss you wake the hell up, maybe then him telling me wouldn't have hurt so much. Well, at least he didn't seem weird out by the fact I didn't lean out, right? This sure could've been way worse. God, this sucks so bad, why did I even—
''No,'' Marco blurted out, yanking me out of my thoughts. ''No, we're not.''
I frowned in complete bewilderment. ''What—?''
Marco didn't let me continue.
''Jean, I— fuck, okay,'' He mumbled, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. He opened them after a moment, clenching his jaw as he stared straight forward. ''I, uh, haven't been honest with you. Haven't been for a while, actually.''
Okay. Okay, that's really weird.
''Marco—'' I tried.
''I did mean it,'' He interrupted me again, sounding a little braver. ''I did mean to kiss you.'' He faltered. ''I mean, uh. Almost. Almost k-kiss you.''
Wait… what?
''I-I did mean it,'' He repeated, stuttering a little. ''Not at that moment, exactly, but, uh. I've been meaning to. For a while.''
Wait, what?!
Marco ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little at the end of it. He seemed scared out of his mind. But he kept going.
''I also have been meaning to—to tell you something.'' A sharp exhale escaped his nose, it seemed like a laugh, but it sounded pained. ''You probably guessed it by now, but—uh.'' He closed his eyes again, and let out a slow, deep breath. He didn't open them before continuing, ''I like you, Jean.'' He opened his eyes then, and there was pain, and fear, and longing, ''I really, really like you.''
My mouth went completely slack.
Marco took it as a bad sign.
''A-and I have for a while. Like, a long, long while. Uh. That might sound weird,'' He started rambling. Nervous habit. ''I didn't mean to hide it from you—I mean, I did, but. I-I, well, I wanted to tell you, but I had no idea how you might react, so—so I just didn't. And I was good at hiding it. I mean, I guess I was because you never found out. A-at least until today,'' He kept going and going, words getting jumbled together the faster he went. ''And I'm really sorry about it—it was really weird, I know. I didn't mean to, like, force myself onto you. Not that that's what I did— I mean, I don't think I did that, it just looked like it, y'know, I—''
''Marco. Marco, stop!'' I talked over his nervous babbling and could almost hear his teeth clinking together as he snapped his mouth shut. ''Stop before you hurt yourself. Jesus.''
With nothing but silence surrounding us, I let myself take a moment to just take in everything he had just said.
Marco… liked me? And did for a while now?
I— What?
''Did you really mean all that?'' I asked, quietly. I saw Marco shift a little on his seat from the corner of my eye.
''Yeah,'' He replied, softly. He still sounded scared, but now his voice was lower, almost calmer. ''I did. I do.''
I paused for a moment, eyes trailing the slightly less dark street below us. I nodded once. Twice.
''Okay.''
Marco faltered again, looking confused. ''Okay?'' His voice sounded strained.
I nodded again, letting us fall into silence one more time. I took a deep breath before saying what I had been hiding from him for over two years out loud.
''I like you too.''
I swore Marco must have almost gotten whiplash with how fast his head snapped towards me.
''W-what?!'' He spluttered.
''I like you too,'' I repeated, turning to look back at him.
''Y-you do?'' Marco stuttered, eyes going wide when I nodded. ''Oh,'' He said, dumbly. He turned his head straight ahead again, looking dazed. ''Okay.''
A laugh slipped from my mouth, making a surprised chuckle come out from Marco's.
''I—Uh. Wasn't expecting that,'' He said after a moment.
''Well. Me neither.'' I paused. ''What did you? Expect, I mean.''
Marco shrugged and looked away, looking sheepish. ''I dunno. I wasn't really planning on, uh, confessing right now.'' His cheeks flushed a light pink.
I laughed again, amused by his embarrassment.
''Can I ask you something?'' Marco asked, looking down at his hands. I hummed quizzingly as consent and he looked back up at me. ''How long have you… uhm, liked me?''
It was my turn to look away, biting my lip as I picked at the little string coming out of my hoodie's sleeve again. ''Some time. A long time, actually,'' I muttered. ''Uh. A-around two years, I guess.''
I saw Marco's eyebrows jump up to his hairline from the corner of my eye.
''What?! Why didn't you tell me, I—'' Marco interrupted himself. He scratched at the short part of his undercut. ''Uh. That was a dumb question. Sorry.'' He laughed.
A light kind of feeling had filled my chest at that moment, and it was the easiest thing to laugh along with Marco. I couldn't quite believe what was going on, but oh my god, don't let it end.
''Can we—'' I started boldly but faltered. I huffed, unsure how to say what I want to say.
Marco hummed questioningly and I huffed again, feeling my cheeks flush. I chewed on my cheek for a moment, gathering courage again.
''Sasha's sleeping right now,'' I settled on. I kept my eyes straight ahead, watching as a few rays of sun started peeking through the mountain far, far away. ''I don't think she might, uh. Interrupt us again.''
I glanced at Marco, who was frowning in clear confusion. Until his face broke in understanding.
''Oh,'' He said. He glanced back at me, and I was mildly impressed by how red his face looked. ''Oh.''
I kept my eyes on his, only breaking our contact by unconsciously leaning a little closer, flitting my eyes down to his mouth and back up. I was a little surprised when our eyes locked again because now Marco's looked so… soft. Full of such a deep fondness. I bit my lip, a warm, pleasant feeling spreading through my chest.
Marco was the first one to move, reaching out to cup my face with one hand. I leaned into the touch and was rewarded with such a beautiful smile I swore my heart stopped for a second. He leaned forward, enough so our foreheads touched. I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of now both his hands holding my face, smiling as Marco closed the gap between us.
I hummed against his lips, the warm feeling now spreading through my whole body. I moved my hands, resting them on his chest, sliding up, up, up until my arms were hooked around his neck, bringing us closer together. Marco's hands were still on my face, his thumb lightly rubbing against my cheek as his lips, so, so soft, moved against mine. It wasn't long before we both leaned back, not in any rush to go any further than that. Marco tugged my face forward gently, pecking my lips one, two, three times, before resting our foreheads together again.
We only separated fully when an almost violent shiver shook me against his hands, making me realize Marco's jacket had slipped from my shoulders when we kissed. Marco chuckled as I hissed at the cold feeling on my now half-exposed neck and scrambled to catch the jacket back.
''Do you wanna get back inside?'' Marco asked as I straightened the jacket back up. I shook my head slightly, scooting closer to him on the bench and resting my head against his shoulder.
''Nah. I'm good.''
I felt Marco chuckle and soon his arm was rising between us, going over my head and resting around my neck, bringing me closer against his chest.
For once, I didn't really mind the cold.