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The words of the priest went in one year and out the other.
They meant nothing, to both of the grooms.
Their eyes were brimming with emotion, but almost none of it was for the other.
They held each other’s warm hands, fingertips still, and wished desperately that they were someone else’s.
Marriage wasn’t something either of them wanted.
The idea of calling one another their husband didn’t fill them with joy, the way they’d always dreamed.
Because when you’re one of the broken hearted lovers, the word ‘husband’ is one that you dread.
When you’re Jean Keirstein, you would give anything for these blue eyes he’s looking into to be Marco’s brown ones.
You’d give anything for a different pattern of freckles, for callouses on these hands he’s holding. He’d give anything for that gap tooth smile and to be looking at eye-level instead of tilting his head down. He’d kill anyone and give up anything he had for just five more minutes with Marco, he’d give everything to be able to put a wedding band on his left hand.
But he couldn’t.
There wasn’t any going back.
And when you’re Armin Artlert, you’d give anything to be looking up into dazzling blue eyes, rather than Jean’s.
You’d give anything for the memories you have with him, going all the way back to when you’d both only been children. You’d give the entire world to follow him down the sidewalk to the shops just one more time. You’d give your life just to have that same feeling of training together, of taking down titans like it used to be.
But it wasn’t like it used to be.
Sometimes, Armin got jealous of Jean.
Marco got to die.
Eren never had.
He’d only changed.
He’d only changed so drastically that the love boiling deep inside of Armin, one he’d sure that would forever be unwavering, had completely dissipated.
Eren was a shell of the man he used to be, and he left Armin longing for his lost love that he never truly got to share.
He really had been a coward all those years, just like Eren said.
When tears fell between the grooms, because God knows they couldn’t even try to hold them back, the only thing they could pretend was that it was because they were too emotional at finally getting married, and not for loves that would never be theirs.
When Jean looked at Armin, his groom, he feels a sliver of the joy and comfort and overall goodness that he should’ve felt on his wedding day. He was happy with Armin. Even if they wouldn’t even have anything like they used to with other people, they’d be happy together.
Jean just manages to push an ‘I do’ past his quivering lips.
Armin’s shoulders start to shake in silent sobs as he says those words himself, just a minute later.
They don’t stop and talk to the others before they go home.
Neither of them say a word as they sob onto eachother’s bodies, holding eachother close and mourning their lost love, rather than celebrating their new one.
Because, see, when you are the broken-hearted lovers, the two lonely newly-weds, you don’t really get to celebrate.