𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃; jean k.

chapter 12.

"con, have you seen jean at all?" i ask the short haired boy next to me.

"now that i think of it, not really" connie replies before lifting his fork full of food and putting it in his mouth.

"i haven't even seen him come down for meals. which must suck for him because this food is really good today" sasha adds while scraping the side of her fork to her plate to get every crumb of food off of it. i look around to scan the area and she's right, jean is nowhere to be seen in the dining hall. 

"has anyone thought to check in on him?" i ask while raising a cup of water to my lips.

"trust me, we want to, but i think what he needs right now is space" sasha says.

"i know, i'm just worried. this can't be healthy" i reply.

"you act like you're his mom or something. if you're really worried you could try knocking on his door, but i have my doubts" connie suggests. it's not a bad idea, if he doesn't answer at least we'll know that something is seriously wrong. 

"okay, do either of you want to do it with me?" i ask. sasha goes to say something but after being given a look by connie, she decides to stay silent. 

"nah, sasha and i have some stuff to do since levi and hange are off monitoring eren," he says. sasha nods in agreement. 

maybe i shouldn't be doing this, maybe he'll be fine tomorrow 

i try to talk myself out of it. partly because i'm intimidated, and partly because i'm scared of what i might see behind the door in front of me. the corridor of rooms is desolate since there's nothing really for us to do now so everyone is out doing their own thing. i close my eyes and take a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. 

silence.

after a moment with no response, i knock again. "jean?", i call through the door so he knows it's me. a few noises are heard from inside the room before i hear the door unlock and it swings open. on the other side of the door frame stands jean, but something looks off. his hair is disheveled like he just rolled out of bed but his eyes suggest that he's exhausted. 

"oh, y/n" he groggily says.

"hey, are you okay?" i ask while looking up so his tired eyes meet mine.

"i'm fine, why do you ask?" he says while scratching his head.

"we've all been worried about you. i've been worried about you. i haven't seen you since..." i start, but before i finish jean steps to the side in a gesture to invite me into his room. i walk in and scattered across the room are sketches and paintings, and two small paint cans sit on his windowsill. "you paint?".

"secret's out, then" he shrugs, "just in my free time". by the tone of his voice, i can tell he's slightly embarrassed. i walk over to one of the canvases laying on the floor and examine the blues and blacks thrown onto it as a form of self-expression.

"so this is what you've been doing..." i say while continuing to look around the room. his room is dimly lit just by the sunlight coming through the curtains, and he has books laid all around the room along with an assortment of paintbrushes and other art supplies. "jean?".

"mmhm?" he hums in reply.

"you can talk to me, you know," i say while sliding down the wall and sitting underneath his window, "i'm here". he looks at me for a moment before sighing and sitting down next to me on the floor.

"marco was like my best friend," he says while looking down at the ground.

"i know he was, and i miss him too, but do you think he'd want you to be holed up in your room like this?" i say softly in response.