positions | jean kirstein

chapter eight: tensions

When I open my eyes, I was no longer in Stohess District. Slowly raising myself to sit up, I tiredly squint to see my surroundings.

I was on the couch in the living room. The fire in the fireplace cracked and popped from besides me, keeping me warm. I look down to see a blanket that covered me. I am still wearing my scouts uniform. Confused, I hear footsteps approaching me from the kitchen.

"Iris."

It was Jean. He was holding a cup of tea in his hand. I watch him as he sits next to me on the couch, handing me the cup.

I mumble out a 'thanks' and take a sip, letting the jasmine tea warm my throat.

"What happened? I don't remember getting here after the fight at Stohess," I ask.

"After the battle, you kind of passed out. You probably hit your head too hard," he answers while trying to hide his laugh.

I punch him in the arm.

He winces and begins rubbing his arm where I had punched him.

"What was that for?"

"For being a dick," I say with a small smile on my face. He smiles back, rolling his eyes.

"How long have I been out for?" I finally ask.

"Like three hours. I tried waking you up when we got back but you were out cold. You really made me carry you in here," he says while putting his hands up behind his head.

"Is that a bad thing?" I respond blankly, threatening him to continue.

He laughs sheepishly, ignoring my question.

I would normally try to pry the answer out of him but my head was still pounding.

Damn, how hard did I hit my head?

Jean gets up from besides me, leaving me on the couch alone. He walks back with a wet rag and small bowl filled with water. I watch him curiously as he kneels in front of me, lightly dipping the rag into the water.

"Stay still." I watch him as he grabs my arm to hold me still and he brings the wet cloth up to my forehead, touching the spot where I had bled from.

I wince as he begins to softly dab the rag on my forehead and clean my cut. His eyebrows were furrowed as he cleaned me, his eyes sincere and gentle as he worked.

"There. All clean," he says while getting up again to put the now bloody rag and water bowl away.

He returns back and stands behind me, his hands placed on the top of the couch.

"The nurse says you need to rest for a day or two so try to get some sleep."

I turn my head towards him.

"Thats unnecessary. I'll be fine," I answer back and I attempt to stand.

I immediately regret it as the room starts to spin, but I refuse to show it.

Jean gives me a concerned look as he rushes to my side to help me. I swat his arms away, sending him a glare, before slowly making my way to my room.

Out of no where, I get lifted off the ground. My eyes widen as I realize that Jean had swooped me up in his arms. He carries me towards my bed. He softly places me down, and all I could do is stare at him.

"Rest. That's an order."

I scoff. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm serious, Iris. You need to rest."