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The sky is muddled and gray, threatening rain as Jean nurses his broken nose on the curb. Blood gushes from the cut on the bridge of his nose and dribbles down the hand he has cupped around his lower face, his bruised knuckles an ugly sight that even he cringed at. He never should’ve went along with Reiner’s shady business in the first place. A quick five hundred for something that easy was too good to be true and it should’ve raised some red flags in his head. But it’s no use crying over spilled milk now, he supposed. That doesn’t eliminate the rage bubbling over inside him though, but he’s too worn and battered to do anything about it.
As drops of rain dampened the ground beneath his feet, Jean lets out a heavy sigh and tugs at his dirty t-shirt to scowl at the stain of blood dyed on the front. “Shit. Mom’s gonna kill me.”
It doesn’t take long for the rain to pick up until every drop that hits him felt like needles against his skin. You would have thought that after graduating high school, Jean’s judgment of people would have gotten better but that doesn’t seem to be true in his case. His inability to find and keep reasonable company comes back to bite him in the ass every time he finds himself in the same predicament, battered and full of regrets. At times like these, he wonders if it would have been better to have stayed in college, carrying on his dad’s legacy in law, even though that’s not what he wanted, instead of dropping out of school in a final act of defiance and letting himself wreck his life over minuscule bad decisions.
His jeans are soaking up the puddle of rain water forming on the curb and his socks are damp in his worn out converse, but at least the rain is washing away the blood on his face and reducing the damage so he could walk home and not give his mother a heart attack. A shadow looms over him and the rain ceased, but that’s only because of the yellow eyesore of an umbrella stretching over his head. Jean follows the arm holding his source of shelter from the rain and sucks in a deep breath when a familiar face greets him in warm hues of gold and blue against the stark gray backdrop.
“Armin?” He sounds disbelieving to his own ears. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that.” The other counters with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing here, sitting in the rain, Jean?”
He doesn’t remember when was the last time he saw Armin Arlert, his not-so-secret secret crush back in his high school days. He thinks it was at the graduation ceremony but then there was the dumb party Ymir held some time ago, but everything is a blur and he can’t really recall. As Jean wrecks his brain for the answer, the surprise from his past ducks down to level their gazes.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” Armin’s blue eyes are wide with shock as they roam Jean’s face to take in every cut and bruise that discolored his face. “Shit. Are you okay?”
Jean snaps out of his reverie because he doesn’t remember ever hearing Armin curse before in the past. He doesn’t know why that’s somehow important now but he’s glad that manage to pull him away from his peril into the horrifyingly embarrassing time of the past.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re hurt. And bleeding.” The blond’s eyebrows furrow together as he stare at Jean’s nose. “I think that might be broken.”
“I think so, too.” He watches Armin’s facial expression change and could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring to form a conclusion.
“Come on, let’s get out of the rain first. I think I can fix that for you.” Says Armin as he straightens up and offers his hand.
Armin’s hand is still smaller than Jean’s but his fingers look more nimble now and there are no signs of his nails being bitten, a nervous habit of his. Jean is surprised he remembers so much but doesn’t let that show on his face as he grabs the offered hand and pushes himself onto his feet. It’s nostalgic holding onto Armin’s hand so he lets go and ignores the ache thumping against his ribcage.
Jean looks around the empty park before raising an eyebrow at the smaller male. “Where do you plan to go?”
Armin starts walking and Jean hastily follows to stay under the umbrella. “My grandpa’s store is nearby.” They’re silent as they walk briskly through the rain, their shoulders squeezed together to fit under the umbrella. “It’s good to see you again, Jean.”
He almost doesn’t hear it from the noisy patter of the rain but pretends not to even though his ears are heating up. It takes another five minutes braving through the storm to reach the small store, the umbrella is as good as a broken stick by then and they’re both drenched from head to toe. But the first thing Armin did inside the safety of his grandfather’s bookstore was letting out a laugh that fills the space and Jean’s soul with warmth.
“Sorry. It’s just, that was pretty ridiculous. We almost got blown away by the wind.” Armin says between giggles and Jean resists the urge to smile.
“You mean, you almost got blown away, if it weren’t for me.”
Armin rolls his eyes at him before he pulls back the hood of his jacket to reveal his golden tresses. Jean’s relieved and glad to know that he’s still keeping the same hairstyle. “Wait here, I’ll go get the first aid kit.”
Jean grimaces at the puddle forming on the carpet and quickly removes his muddy shoes and drenched socks out of habit. He could almost hear his mother’s shrill voice nagging in his ears for threading mud into the house before he realizes where he’s at and feels like a total idiot standing bare-feet at the entrance of the bookstore with his shoes in his hands.
“Got it.” Armin’s voice nearly made him jump out of his own skin but he’s relieved to see that Armin has taken off his own shoes as well and is walking towards him with bare-feet.
Jean’s eyes linger a second longer on Armin’s painted toenails before his attention is quickly directed to the snap of Armin opening the lid of the first aid kit. Armin motions for him to come over to the counter after instructing him to leave his mud-cake shoes by the entrance, which he does as he’s told.
“This is going to sting a little.” The blond whispers a warning as he dabbles at the small gash across his cheekbone with a cotton-swab.
Jean flinches away from the sting of the antiseptic but Armin’s hard stare made him freeze in place. “Are you sure it’s alright to fix me up here? What if customers come in?”
Armin doesn’t lose focus on his work and jabs a thumb at the door which is when Jean notices the sign. “It’s lunch break now and my grandpa’s in the back taking a nap.”
“Oh.” They fall into silence as Armin did quick work at cleaning his various cuts and bruises, but the biggest obstacle still awaits them. “I think maybe I should go to a hospital for this.”
Armin nods in contemplation but his blue eyes are locked onto Jean’s slightly crooked nose. “Yeah. I guess you should. But after cleaning up the mess, it doesn’t look as bad as I initially thought it was, so I’m sure I can fix it.”
Jean gulps and inches away from Armin’s hands. “No, really. Maybe getting professional help is better.”
Armin sighs. “Jean, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“This is asking for a little too much trust from someone you haven’t seen in two years, isn’t it?” Jean fires back, swatting Armin’s hands away.
“Well, I’m glad that you’re aware about how many years have passed since you stopped contacting your old friends, Jean.” Armin doesn’t waste the lull in Jean’s shock to reach out and grab hold of his nose. He snaps the nose back in place with a quick flick of his wrist and grins in accomplishment at Jean’s painful howls. “There. I told you to trust me on this.”
“Fuck, Armin.” The brunet holds onto his throbbing nose, blinking rapidly to rid the tears stinging his eyes. “Fuck.”
Armin has the gull to laugh at him, cackling even louder when Jean sent him a glare. “All better?”
Jean swallows another curse and reluctantly nods when he doesn’t feel much pain anymore. “Yeah. Thanks, I guess. Why do you even know how to do that?”
“Remember Eren?” The brunet makes a face at the mentioned name.
“I rather not.” Jean’s scowl softens as he watches Armin laugh.
They lull into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, just the pitter-pattering of the rain resounding through the store. Then Armin clears his throat as he packs up the first aid kit and shyly avoids his eyes.
“Well, the rain doesn’t seem like it’ll let up soon,” says Armin. “How about we hang out here until the rain stops? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Jean feels himself flush all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears and he can’t force himself to meet the shimmering blue of Armin’s eyes but a smile is tugging it’s way onto his face.
“Yeah. I’d love that.”