♥︎ 𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 ♥︎

Chapter two

Jean enjoyed being attentive. In reality, he lived for it. Ever since he was a little boy, he has been looking for ways to make himself the center of focus. Before anyone else his age, he walked. He spoke first, becoming taller and more stunning than anyone else as he grew older. Indeed, he was good-looking with his long hair, pearly eyes, and wide shoulders. The girls loved him, and the boys adored him. And Jean? He was soaking up his attention and reveling in it.

But there was a limit to just how much publicity Jean could get in a small village when he grew up. And he was irked by it. Then France became interested in the war, to his great delight. Jean had seen the war not as an opportunity to protect his country, but as an opportunity to wear a dashing uniform and woo the ladies, which he had done with gusto when, two years ago, he became a certified war hero.

Jean still wore his uniform.

And the most handsome and manliest man in the entire village still believed in himself.He was now sitting astride his big black stallion, gazing down from the promontory overlooking his village. Beneath a sparkling gold breastplate, his chest was bulging. As he pulled back on the horse's reins, the muscles on his arm rippled, causing the animal to dance nervously. His trusty musket and the spoils of his hunt had been tied to his saddle. As normal, he had an afternoon of success in the woods.

"You never missed a shot, Jean." said the man next to him.

If Jean was the lion of a man that he had been called by many over the years, the man next to him was a house cat. Marco had been everything that Jean hadn't been. Where Jean was tall and muscled, Marco was slim and medium in height. Where Jean was all smooth, practiced motions and well-proven lines, Marco had cuts over his right side and an incoherent babble was stumbling.  And where Jean was known to everyone as being worshipped, Marco was a footnote to barley in the minds of the peasants. Still, for the freckled boy, Jean had a soft spot - mostly because when they were younger, Marco and he had been together.

"You're the greatest hunter in the village," Marco went on. Jean gave him a look and corrected himself quickly. "I mean...the world."As if posing for an unknown artist, Jean puffed out his already puffed-out chest even further and lifted his head in the air. "Thank you, Marco," he said. He stared down at the 'caught' system - a handful of vegetables - and raised an eyebrow. "You didn't do too badly yourself," he said insincerely.

"One of these days I'm going to learn to shoot like you," Marco said, indifferent to Jean's ridicule. "And talk like you. And be tall and handsome like you."  "Come now, old friend," said Jean, pretending that he did not enjoy every compliment. "Reflected glory is just as good as the real thing."

Marco, puzzled, cocked his head. When he saw Jean sitting up straighter in his saddle, he opened his mouth talking but stopped. The eyes of the blonde-haired man narrowed as if he were a wolf spotting his prey. Marco, following Jean's gaze, saw what had caught the attention of his mate. Below, through the village square, Y/N was making her way. Her bright blue dress was flattering against her H/C hair. Marco could see her cheeks getting flush, even from such a distance.

"Look at her, Marco." continued Jean. "My future wife. Y/N is the most beautiful girl in the village. That makes her the best."

"But she's so well-read, and you're so...." Marco picked himself up. The one thing he prided himself on never doing - offending Jean - he had almost just done. Quickly, he finished his sentence before Jean could think about the delay. "Athletically inclined."

" I know," he agreed, nodding to Jean. "Y/N can be as argumentative as she is beautiful."

"Exactly!" said Marco, pleased to see a friend of his interacting with some sense." why do you want to marry her anyway? There's us Le Duo!" The freckled boy tried in vain to get the village to name the pair Le Duo when they had first returned home from the war - because of course, Marco had gone to fight with his friend, explanation for his scars. But it didn't get trapped. Typically it was Jean and "The other one" Or more than that, just Jean.