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You threw yourself dramatically on your bed, face down. You weren’t one for any holiday anyway, but Valentine’s Day was particularly abrasive for you. Seeing happy couples everywhere was nauseating, and your loneliness only made it worse. It wasn’t that you were lacking for friends - you had a decently sized social circle - but there was still an underlying sadness that you felt. Several of your friends had been dancing around a deeper relationship - namely Sasha and Connie, who were strangely awkward around each other. Eren and Mikasa had their…Whatever they had. Even Annie had been warming up to Bertholdt recently - she had even smiled at him just last week. When would it be your turn?
You rolled over onto your back and threw your arm over your face. You knew you were being unnecessarily dramatic, but it felt nice to do so once in awhile. Your phone buzzed with a text. Sasha, of course.
Valentine’s party at Eren’s place tomorrow!
You rolled your eyes. Valentine’s Day was still two days away, but of course the party was the night before. Couldn’t have all the coupled up people not available for their prix fixe dinners at all the nicest restaurants in town. You hadn’t even BEEN to any of them. Ever. Not with a friend, not alone - you never went out to eat alone, you thought it looked sad.
Have fun.
Aren’t you going to come?
Absolutely not.
But it’s a party! At Eren’s! We always have parties at Eren’s and you always go.
Not this time.
—------
The next afternoon, you were just changing out of your work clothes when there was a knock at your door. Curious, you opened it, and immediately sighed.
“Sasha, I told you, I’m not going. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, you were texting me all day."
She was practically bouncing. Not too different from usual, if you were to be honest, but there was a buzzing sort of energy around her this time. “You won’t be the only not-coupled person there! I’m single!” You couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Hey! I AM single!"
“Barely,” you scoffed. “Connie has been trying to get the guts to ask you out for ages.”
“Actually…”
“He finally grew a pair? Good for him. And you. Have fun tonight.” You moved to shut the door, but Sasha stuck her foot out to stop you. “Come on, I had a long day and I just want to sleep.”
“Just come! It won’t be lovey-dovey or anything, there are plenty of ACTUALLY single people going too. Eren is just using a holiday as an excuse for a party, you know that!”
You sighed, and Sasha grinned, knowing that she had successfully convinced you. “Fine. FINE. I’ll see you there.”
—-----------
You didn’t bother to look nice for the party. You were still sort of pouty anyway, and figured you would make an appearance, have a drink or two, and leave to wallow in your loneliness. You weren’t in sweats or anything, just bare faced and in simple jeans and a nice top. “Yeah, hi, Sasha convinced me, here’s a bottle of wine because we’re classy adults now.” You set the bottle on the kitchen island, next to a row of shotglasses. “Please give me tequila.”
Eren dutifully poured you a shot while Mikasa narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you planning on getting drunk and sad?” she demanded.
“Neither, don’t worry.” You took your shot and poured yourself a glass of wine. “Gonna make the rounds.”
You wandered, as promised, plastering on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and saying hello to your friends. As you were all adults and not a bunch of dumb college kids anymore, the party was much more low-key. Less beer pong and more genuine hanging out. The circle of friends wasn’t too big, maybe ten of you or so, so parties were a lot quieter these days. You wandered into the backyard, sitting under the gazebo. Eren had spent a lot of time on it as a nice outdoor space - there were fairy lights hung underneath and wrapped around the small staircase handles, along with a porch swing and a comfortable outdoor couch. You settled in on the swing, sipping your wine.
“You look absolutely thrilled to be here,” a voice said from behind you.
“Don’t you know, Jean, that Valentine’s Day is my absolute favorite holiday?” you deadpanned, glancing at your friend. “I’m sure you have a lovely date set up for tomorrow night, right? I’ll be wishing you well from the comfort of my couch, where I fully intend on drinking an entire bottle of wine and watching sappy love stories or something.”
“Don’t party too hard, now.” He took a seat on the couch and gestured for you to join him. “You’re going to make yourself sick swinging like that when you’re drunk.”
“Who says I’m drunk?”
“Well, you will be soon enough, with that attitude.”
You rolled your eyes, but joined him anyway. He was absolutely your college crush, but you had totally and completely moved on and were in no way a little peeved that you weren’t spending your Valentine’s Day with him. Completely and totally moved on.
You didn’t even look at him when you spoke. “You know tomorrow is my least favorite day of the year. I don’t even like ANY holiday, much less this one.”
“You know, I’ve always wondered why you don’t like holidays. You don’t even like Christmas. Halloween is the only one I’ve ever seen you do anything at all for, and even then you just carved one single pumpkin and holed up in your apartment watching scary movies all night.” Jean, while putting on quite a sarcastic persona, was actually kind of a marshmallow inside. You had seen him buy a full cart of groceries for Thanksgiving, dutifully wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day, and he once dressed as an elf for a Christmas party at work. Admittedly, that last one was pretty cute. You didn’t want to admit how many times you had giggled at the photo when you were feeling down.
“I just don’t.”
“Come on, no one is as much of a Scrooge as you are for no reason. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you never let any of us close to you, regardless of whether or not it’s a holiday.” His voice was serious, more serious than he usually was. You looked over at him only to find him looking at you with gentle eyes. “It’s okay to let people in once in awhile, you know? None of us bite. We all like you. Hell, we were all friends in college, which isn’t exactly the most stable or friendly time in anyone’s life.”
Your heart beat a tiny bit faster at his sudden interest in you. It wasn’t like you deliberately pushed people away. It was just a habit you had, to guard yourself. You were an only child, a latchkey kid, a weird kid with weird interests, and so had just gotten used to being alone. Then even your parents pulled away from you, barely calling and moving across the country from you. The only reason you were included in this friend group at all was because of Sasha, and even then, it was only because she was your roommate in college. She was a social butterfly, opposite of you, but tried to get you out of your chrysalis anyway.
Jean sighed. “If you want to tell me to piss off, you can. I know I’m being nosy, and you prefer to be left alone, but…I don’t know, it just bothered me seeing you out here by yourself staring up at the stars.”
It was cold outside, the kind of cold that makes everything feel a little sharper, and the stars seem a little brighter. “I don’t want to tell you to piss off,” you said quietly. “I…I actually want you to stay.” The words surprised even you, and Jean even more. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before turning back into the Cool Guy. “You know, you don’t have to pretend with me, either. I don’t expect you to be anyone you’re not.” You looked him in the eye, and he had the decency to look at least slightly shocked. “Come on. You think I really believe that you’re some super cool guy who’s all detached and doesn’t care about stuff? You’re a teddy bear.”
Jean sputtered a little, clearly flustered at your ability to see through him. “I’m cool,” he protested weakly. He sighed at your raised eyebrows. “Okay, I’m not that cool. How’d you see through me?”
“Because we’re the same that way. I try to be all aloof and shit, like I don’t care about holidays and I don’t give a shit what people think or whether or not I’m alone, but I hate it.” You weren’t sure if it was the tequila shot, your bad day, or your frustration with your complicated feelings for him that made you speak. “I’ve ALWAYS been alone, Jean. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I don’t think I know how to NOT be lonely.”
He sat in silence next to you, not willing to meet your eyes. You sighed as you leaned back again, looking at the stars. Even constellations had company. Perseus and Andromeda, Cassiopeia and Cepheus. True proof that love really was a myth.
“Have you ever considered that you don’t have to be?” Jean asked quietly. You turned to look at him this time. “Maybe you don’t want to have a huge friend group, and that’s fine. But you can let at least one of us in.” He took a deep breath. “You could let ME in. It’s not like I haven’t WANTED to know you. It’s all I’ve wanted for years now but you push me away every time.”
You recalled every declined call, every message left on read, every time you hadn’t answered the door when you knew it was him on the other side. You remembered doing the absolute bare minimum to keep him in your life after college, because anything more would hurt too much. Hope was a bitch that you tried to keep out of your life, because all it ever led to was disappointment.
“I…” You couldn’t even find words. “I don’t…I can’t…How do I even respond to that, Jean?”
“I don’t know, a yes or a no would probably be a good start.”
“No, I haven’t considered that I don’t have to be alone. I’d rather be alone. People can leave you. People can hurt you. Even just being next to someone can hurt you because you just sit there hearing what you’ve always hoped to hear and you STILL think it’s going to be taken away, or that it’s a lie.” Your voice wobbled as you spoke, and you saw the wine sloshing in your glass as your hands shook. Your eyelashes betrayed you and let the tears fall. “I can’t do it, Jean, I can’t be left alone again. I can’t have you saying shit like this to me, do you even know how I felt about you in college? How I STILL feel about you? It’s why I never answer your calls, never respond to texts. I’m not going to get my hopes up for something that’s never going to happen.”
Jean laughed. He LAUGHED. You stared at him, equally stunned and angry. You slammed your wine glass down on the side table and got up to walk away, only to have your wrist grabbed and be pulled back. “I’m very glad that my emotional distress is your own personal comedy show.” you sniffled, even though you wanted to seem tough. You were a marshmallow inside, too, though.
“No, that’s not why I’m laughing. I’m laughing because I was an idiot.” He pulled you back down, sitting next to him. His hand went from your wrist to your own hand, grasping it and running his fingers along your knuckles. “This entire time, while you were ignoring me and generally being kind of a bitch - hey, you can’t get mad at me for telling the truth,” he responded to your stammering. “The whole time, you actually LIKED me? I genuinely thought you hated me.”
You sighed, angry at yourself for your accidental confession. “Okay, yeah, ha ha, very funny, I liked you in college, I still like you now because even though I’m almost always a bitch you still try, I secretly love that you call me and text me, and I sometimes look at that picture of you when you dressed like an elf because I don’t actually hate Christmas, and you look so cute in your little elf hat.” You were just saying whatever came to your mind at this point. You had already ruined everything, so why not? “I remember the time you held my hair back when I got super drunk at that stupid frat party, and the time you stayed with me because a stupid boy broke up with me and I was crying all night, and every time you got me my favorite candy bar at the school bookstore, and it makes me like you more, and I hate it because I can’t have you and-”
“Shut up,” he laughed again, but this time it sounded almost…Affectionate. “Why do you think I got your favorite candy bar before philosophy class? Because I knew you hated philosophy class because of all the idiot guys who thought they were so goddamn smart because they read some Socrates and Kant. I held your hair back because I HAD to stay with you, because you were so drunk that I didn’t want you to make any stupid decisions and I didn’t want anyone to take advantage of you. I liked you then, and I like you now, even though you pretend just as much as I do.”
“You…You liked me? Cool guy Jean Kirstein?”
He rolled his eyes, smiling. “You know more than most people that I am NOT cool. Remember the time we all went to see Never Let Me Go and you very discreetly passed me tissues in the theater and pretended you needed my help finding something you dropped so no one would see that I cried?” You laughed, and your mind kept going back to every instance that Jean did something nice for you, or vice versa. “I’m a sap, I’m a pretentious art nerd, and you still liked me. I mean, back then I didn’t think it was anything more, but…Looking back, we were both kind of dumb, huh?” He took both of your hands in his and you lost the ability to breathe. His hands were so warm and comforting, and you felt like you had been missing out this entire time on getting to hold his hand, or curl up next to him, or mess up his hair (that he took such meticulous care in styling). “So I know that literally everywhere is probably going to be stupidly packed tomorrow night, and it is VERY last minute, but…” Another deep breath. “Do you want to go out tomorrow? It can be during the day, morning, night, I really don’t care, as long as you say yes.”
“How can I say no after all of that?” You were still tentative. It had been so long since you really let anyone truly see you, that you weren’t even sure you could. “You’re gonna have to be patient, though. I don’t really know how to do this…Whatever this is.”
Jean put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. “It’s all right, I don’t, either. We can stumble around and be stupid together. And then the day after tomorrow, we can go buy all the leftover Valentine’s chocolate for half price.”
You heard a loud cheer coming from the house, and saw Sasha pumping a fist in the air while looking at you from the window. “I guess that’s our cue.” Jean stood up, still holding your hand. “I think Sasha and Connie had a bet going on, so we’re probably going to have to tell them all the details. They kept debating how long it would take for me to actually get the nerve to ask you out.”
You realized then that you had never really been alone.