⸝ jean x reader
⸝ no spoilers (except appearances and some characters)
⸝ high school au
CONTAINS SOME MIKASA X READER
⸝ ⸝ ⸝
They were like red and blue, completely different hues that could create beautiful colors.
Maybe that's what brought them tog...
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Despite Jean telling (y/n) he won't disappear, she didn't hear from him after Friday morning, nor did she see him in class. But she couldn't keep asking him about it, it wasn't her business at all. Shadis had asked about tutoring, and (y/n) had lied and said they completed every session. Today, she almost jumped out of her skin when Jean walked into the classroom before the bell even rang.
He appeared to be in great shape, except for his attire and his eyes. His hazel eyes are bloodshot, but the smile on his face made it seem as though he was perhaps just tired. He was dressed in extra baggy clothing, which was out of the ordinary. Before (y/n) had become acquainted with him, he used to wear clothes that gave off a suave feel and look, but now he dressed like a homeless man.
She thought back to when they had gone to the beach, he wore a mesh tank top that framed his body charmingly, but now, there he was, clad in gray baggy jeans, and a darker gray sweater atop a white shirt that's hem peaked out at his waist. The sleeves of his sweater were long enough to reach his palms, and she noticed how he didn't bother rolling them up.
Jean walked passed her, leaving behind a trail of his scent: cinnamon and sandalwood, but with a hint of an odd fruity, flowery scent that she had never smelled before. She shrugged it off, and became slightly startled when she felt Jean's fingers brush against her hair as he passed, causing her to instantly turn around to look at him, ignoring the goosebumps that arose on her body.
He held a small smirk as he sat down, eyes trained on her, and she couldn't tell what he was thinking but she wanted to know desperately.
Shadis soon started his lesson after the bell rang, and she was grateful that their group had presented the project without including Jean last week, because she definitely wouldn't be able to focus if Jean was there.
As she clicked her pen and stared at the white board, her mind blanked like a white canvas, except, the only picture that ever painted itself onto that canvas was Jean's. And she was confused--but equally irritated.
She thought she had a serious problem.
Each night, she couldn't help but think about Jean. And with those thoughts came the extreme need to look at that damned painting. She wanted to so desperately ask the ash-brown haired boy about the painting. What did it mean? Why did he paint it? Had he finished it?
She wanted to go see for herself.
And so, she turned around and looked at Jean with a small smile. "We should study for the upcoming test together," she offers, a little too kindly.
Jean raises an eyebrow suspiciously and brings his hand up to flick her on the forehead. "No," he replies, a smile on his face. "I'm busy for the week. Maybe next test."
She noticed how the smile didn't even reach his eyes, and instead, rubbed the sore spot on her forehead and turned back around with a scowl. Well, that was a fail, she thought to herself sulkily.
