Messy Hair - Jean Kirstein x Reader

Messy Hair

The days are getting longer and longer by the minute. Each day feels like a whole year is going by, the same sorrow and sadness waiting to surprise you each day. Even though you want what's best for Paradis, it's getting harder and harder to look forward to tomorrow. You hate to admit it, but you're lonely. You just want one person there, someone you can talk to, someone who can comfort you, but you go through your days without it.

You sit on your bed, the air around you silent and motionless, your head spinning with all sorts of worries for what the future will hold. Although many people would say there's no use for you to worry, as nobody can tell what could happen, you can't help but imagine the worst possible scenarios in your head. A friend may die, someone could get caught in the crossfire, anything.

And Jean could get hurt. Your mind just says it without thinking. Jean could get hurt. The thought sends a shiver through your body. You've been close with him for so many years now, being here without him would be almost unbearable. Jean. Jean. Your mind keeps repeating his name in your head, images of him flashing back and forth. Before you know it, you're by his door, your hand knocking without even thinking.

"Hey," Jean opens his door, his hair tangled in a mess, probably from lying on his bed. The messy hair kinda suits him though, as it stems around his ears. His shirt is tight on his chest, showing the definition of his upper body. He wears it tucked into his pants, jeans held in place by a black belt. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you lean against the door frame, hoping to talk to him in a casual manner. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Yeah," he seems worried, but he tries his best to keep a regular facial expression, probably for your greater good. He moves out of your way, gesturing towards his room. "Make yourself at home." You follow him as he sits on his bed, impulsively flattening his hair down. You want to tell him that he looks good that way, but you decide not to. His bed is messy, the blankets shoved to the bottom of the bed, scrunched up into a ball. He must have been under them before you got here, shoving them off when he heard the knock. Aside from that, you notice his room is fairly clean, aside from a few clothes bundled up on the floor here and there.

"What's up?" He finally asks, propping himself up with his hands behind his back.

"I'm not really sure," you confess to him, crossing your legs up on the bed. "It's just been a lot lately, and I really needed to talk to someone." You decide to leave out the part where you were lonely and he was the person you wanted to see the most. He doesn't need to know that part to help.

"Yeah," he switches his position, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I understand that." He seems sad, but like he's trying to hide it behind his face. "Do you think Eren is actually in Marley? I miss that little bastard."

"Yeah, I do," you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. "Atleast, I hope I do. Maybe it will all end pretty soon, then."

He grimaces, "Yeah, hopefully."

"Every day seems so long," you say suddenly, surprising him. "I really hope it will end soon," you emphasize what you said before.

Jean's face quickly changes from, surprised to a look of more compassion, and reaches over to you, laying his hand on your knee. Your heart flutters in your chest, a feeling that has never happened before.

"It will be okay," he seems almost like he's trying to convince himself too. "Eren will be back and then you, me, Connie, and Sasha can all go somewhere fun."

He smiles at you, triggering a smile in yourself as well. "Yeah," you lay your hand on top of his, your heart almost beating out of your chest. "It will."