𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

[🎲] [𝟐𝟏] 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As Bertholdt's gaze falls on you, he is quick to offer a warm smile, acknowledging your presence.

The attention of the others around the table soon follows suit, their curious eyes turning towards you.

Sensing a need to address the situation, you utter the words, "Don't hate me," with a hint of apprehension in your voice.

A myriad of perplexed expressions meet your gaze.

The air is thick with uncertainty, as if a veil of bewilderment has descended on them.

With a guilty smile gracing your lips, you utter the words that hang heavy in the air. "Jean is actually here and I'm going to leave with him. I'm sorry."

Ymir, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, playfully elongates her words, drawing out the syllables.

"Wow..." she exclaims, her voice filled with a playful tone.

"Boo!" In a sudden burst of emotion, Zeke's voice reverberates through the air, echoing with intensity as he directs his phrases towards you.

"What happened to bros before hoes?" Bertholdt asks, his eyebrows arching playfully.

As the words effortlessly escape his lips, Jean materialises behind you, seemingly emerging from the very fabric of reality itself.

As you slowly pivot your body, your gaze fixates on him, and with a calm yet assertive tone, you utter, "He just called you a hoe, by the way."

Jean, with a playful smile on his face, responds, "As long as I'm number one, I'm not fussed," his words effortlessly blending into the lighthearted banter.

Zeke struggles to find his voice, but before he can utter a single word, a snort escapes his lips.

"Fuck her, and then you'll be number one, alright," he commented.

With a sense of urgency, you hastily bid your farewell, uttering the words "Okay, goodbye."

In your haste, you instinctively reach out and grasp Jean's arm, gently tugging him away from the scene, fearing that Zeke might say something else that could potentially complicate matters further.

"Message me when you all get home."

Jean's laughter echoes through the air as he playfully trails behind you.

As his hand gently glides to the small of your back with a tender touch, you feel a sense of security enveloping you. With his gentle embrace, you find yourself leading the way, navigating the path out of the bustling bar.

As you step outside, you instinctively move to one side, allowing the bustling street to unfold before you.

As you venture beyond the confines of the bar, a biting cold immediately seizes your being, sending shivers coursing through your frame.

A pang of regret washes over you, for you had neglected to wear a jacket, foolishly assuming that the earlier warmth would persist.

As you set out on your walk, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, you find yourself instinctively veering towards the left.

However, Jean, with his ever-so-light grip on your back, effortlessly redirects your body towards the right.

With a gentle chuckle, he gestures towards the vehicle parked nearby.

"Estella is this way," he remarks, his voice laced with amusement.

As you stroll alongside him, a subtle movement catches your attention.