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Jean was the type of guy who absolutely hated when people invaded his personal space. It was a respect thing. He had his space, and everyone else had their own. When the remaining members of their training squad inevitably gathered together at the end of the day, Jean was one of the few who kept himself a few paces back. He used to have someone who bridged that gap, but after Marco's death there weren't many who dared to fill it in. Or so he thought.
Armin was almost like the pet cat Jean used to have as a child. Whenever Jean was focusing the majority of his attention on something once he was finished, he'd become aware that they were just there. No comment or attempt to engage Jean on his terms, his space was now theirs and there would be no argument. He was smart enough not to question it.
At first, Armin would merely stand close by, his shoulder nudging Jean's arm every so often. Any query would be answered with a shrug and a smile. Since the opening had been made, Jean would counter with a tap of his elbow against Armin's arm, or a ruffling of blond hair. Then Armin decided that the ground or empty space on the benches near the campfire was no longer good enough. More often than not, Jean would be in the midst in a conversation or reading a book only to find Armin sitting comfortably on his lap as though the youth had been there for quite some time. Once Armin plucked the book in Jean's hand and held out a different one insisting it was better.
Armin may be small, but even Jean had to wonder how he was somehow able to just appear on his lap without him noticing. It's not that he minded, it was nice that he had someone who felt close enough to him that their space seemed to overlap his own so easily.
It was late and the campfire was starting to die, most of their group had made their way to their bunks. Jean himself was dead tired, but he stayed where he was. Armin had made himself quite comfortable that night, his legs swept over one side as Armin rested against Jean's torso with his head tucked in the crook of Jean's neck. He was sleeping. And Jean couldn't bring himself to wake Armin up just yet.
Jean idly played with blond locks at the nape of the sleeping teen's neck while he took a peek at the pages Armin had been scribbling notes over throughout the night. He had expected to see a list of random facts or a new stratagem, but instead he found himself surprised by the first two sentences on the page; "We're not the type of people who say I love you. But just in case, I'll put it in words that I'm sure you'll read someday."