Crossing the lines between us || aot x reader

The wrong one

Jean wasn't sure where he was going. It felt as if he had been walking for ages. He wanted to run away and hide. He thought about calling you, but he knew better than that. He made his bed and now he'd have to lie in it.

The string that had tied the two of you together had finally snapped. He had let the string fray for so long, that now that it seemed to have officially broken he was the only one left frantically trying to hold on to his side. He should known from the beginning that once the string had fallen slack on your side, you weren't going to keep holding on.

You weren't that kind of person.

Jean knew what he agreed to when he first started fooling around with you. He knew how you felt. He knew you had reservations when it came to relationships, no matter how hard you tried to play it off. He knew.

You drew a line between equal sides of the string that connected you to him, he was the one who ultimately crossed it. He was the one who pulled and put pressure. He created the tension that frayed what tethered him to you.

He shoved his hands deep in his jacket pockets as the chill of the late January air brushed against his cheeks and blindly let his feet guide him somewhere. By now, a mix of freezing rain and snowflakes fell from the sky above, making his now wet jacket cling to his back uncomfortably.

It wasn't long before he found himself outside the apartment he had just walked you home from. Jean wasn't sure why his steps led him there, at first. Deep in the back of his mind he knew it was because of his own insecurities. He couldn't push away the thought that Mikasa must have told you something regarding himself.

That feeling ate away at him, as he entered the building till he found himself outside of her door. He didn't even remember knocking on her door by the time he was met with Mikasa's steely gaze and crossed arms.

Jean shook his head and stepped back from the doorway as he finally came to realize where he was.

Mikasa leant up against her open door, her eyes looked him over, as if she were analyzing him, "what do you need now?"

"What did you tell her?" He asked hesitantly as melted snow dripped from his sandy hair on the carpet below.

"Nothing," she rolled her eyes, before pulling herself off from her door, "if that's all," she grabbed the door handle ready to shut the door on him, "you can leave."

Jean quickly stuck his foot out against the door while his arm leant up against the doorframe, preventing her from shutting it fully, "you did something, you told her something about me."

Mikasa jerked back at his sudden movement. He towered over her, and although she knew she could easily over power him, it was his quick change in demeanour and dark tone of voice that sent shivers down her spine. This wasn't the same Jean she had been dealing with for the last while, this one had wild eyes and a panic stricken voice that growled back at her.

There was no poing in pushing him away.

She pushed the door back open and sighed, "listen, I didn't say shit. Whatever she said to you while you escorted her home has nothing to do with me or how I feel about you."

Jean leaned in closer to her, "how do you feel about me?"

It took Mikasa a moment to ponder on her answer. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him. She found that a multitude of emotions overcame her when she thought specifically of him. He was irritating, selfish, overbearing and delusional to her. As for a specific feeling, whenever her eyes locked with his, she felt incredibly angry.

The pause in conversation was stagnant, as the two stood facing each other inches apart from one another. The air between them burned, as the tension rose. White hot anger boiled and bubbles between them.