Camp Paradis || Jean Kirstein

I Didn't Bring You Out Here To Eat

I placed the last piece of hair exactly where I'd wanted it. I looked at my blowout that I attempted by myself, ultimately happy with the way that it turned out. My black, satin slip dress was something I didn't wear very often. I wasn't a huge fan of dark colors, and rarely wore them, but I liked the way this dress made me look.

I felt more grown up in this dress, and I looked older in it as well. I was nineteen now, and when I woke up this morning I felt like a completely different person. I wasn't sure if it was because I actually had specific goals for today, or if it was just because I woke up in a bedroom that wasn't mine and it threw me off.

  I stared at myself in the mirror of the bathroom. I had been in here for a while, getting ready for tonight. I turned my body, checking for any lines the lingerie would have created under the dress. I was pleased when I saw not one wrinkle.

  My phone had been going off all day. Birthday wishes flew in from left to right. Public one's on social media from people I hadn't spoken to in months, and more personal ones came in the form of text messages. Historia's was the only one that I responded to, wishing her a happy birthday, and wishing her a good night with Ymir.

  A soft knock on the door pulled me away from my phone. I looked at the door through the mirror.

  "You ready, Beck?" butterflies erupted in my stomach at Jean's patient voice on the other side of the door. I couldn't believe that Jean and I were about to go on our first date together.

  First date implied that there would be more. I didn't want to get too ahead of myself, but I was excited for this, and the only other time I could remember being this excited was when I found out I was going to Italy. Tonight did have the possibility of ending in shambles. Our attraction to each other could be purely physical, and we could find out tonight on our own that we just weren't a good fit. But I had confidence that that wouldn't happen. What Jean and I had was more than that, and it was becoming painfully obvious the more that we hung out together.

  Each time we inched a little closer to each other, the air grew a little thicker, and the pull between us became stronger. Everything was about at a tipping point, and it was becoming unbearable to not do anything about it.

  Tonight would change that. I didn't know what would happen afterwards, but I didn't care right now. I couldn't be bothered to think of any consequences for the future when all I could think about in the present was how badly I wanted to sink my claws into Jean, how I wanted to feel every bit of him underneath me and taste the sound of my name leaving his lips.

  There was a reason I picked this restaurant tonight. It wasn't my favorite restaurant (although I wasn't lying about the fries being the best). It was a matter of convenience, because it was right across the street from our vacant penthouse.

  I had to shake my head when I heard the knock on the door again, this time a little more aggressive. I pulled my black clutch off of the counter and shoved my phone into it as I turned to the door. I opened it and Jean stood there, a little taken back at the new height that my heels had put me at.

  His eyes quickly scanned me up and down, and I did the same. Jean was dressed nicer than I thought he could possibly dress. He wore a casual black suit with a black button up underneath. I blinked at his chest, unsure of where he even got the suit. He looked very handsome, but I didn't like it- he didn't look like himself. I started to search others parts of him, taking note of his still effortlessly messy hair, the remains of paint on his hands, and finally, his black vans, still covered with black paint. These were the things that were exclusive to my Jean, and I smiled at the bits of him that were shining through who he was pretending to be tonight.