Childish Games

Childish Games - One

-Chapter One-

Every day started the same; wake up, get washed, get dressed and drown your body in coffee. Or at least, that was how Jean liked to spend his mornings. It wasn't until he'd had his fifth coffee that he was deemed approachable. The only reason he could actually have that much within their rations is because the majority of people find it way too strong for their taste, but it's just right for him. Convenient.

'Jean!' Pulled him from his drink though (only his third) and people seemed to have noticed the look of disgruntlement on his face as he tried to act interested in whatever crap Connie was going on about, only tuning in to selected parts of the very one-sided conversation, picking out some things like:

'...dark eye circles...' or '...such a misery...' and even '...I wonder how many turnips we'll get this week...' Causing a deep sigh to slip past his lips.

'Turnips? You're thinking about turnips?' He murmured, raising an eyebrow and scoffing slightly before stretching his arms above his head until they made that satisfying click, setting them back on the table then. 'There's much nicer food to think about than turnips. Like.. Bread, for example.' But he could tell instantly that he'd opened the window for a whole new conversation. Shit.

'You can put turnips on the bread, it gives it more flavour.' More flavour? Turnips aren't particularly the most delicious thing in the world, in Jean's opinion. He'd much rather just have dry bread (he'd jump for the luxury of having butter on it as well) but the idea of raw turnips on somewhat stale bread made his stomach turn a bit.

By the time Jean had finished that cup of coffee, he was cheering internally that he had an excuse to leave now, not having to endure the relentless chatter that only effected him in the sense that it made him want to commit mass genocide. Although, that'd lead him nowhere but the extinction of humanity itself. He didn't bother with his usual caffeine dose of five cups, but instead went out to do some equipment checks, noticing someone already setting up. Their hair was a very dark brown, near black, short trimmed. But it was the perfect stance they held that caught Jean's eye. How their shoulders were perfectly symmetrical, hips curved in such a way that shouldn't be achievable in the human anatomy, yet they still had it, and they wore it well.

The fact that Jean had been watching this other male didn't faze him because he was too busy watching how he moved, how he behaved. But when he realised it was Marco he took a double take at first, but there they were. As plain as day. Marco's little signature freckles that dotted all over his face.

'Stunning.' He thought. 'Absolutely stunning.' But he had no idea what brought this on. Just the other month he was stood gawping over Mikasa Ackerman, thinking she was the most beautiful creature he'd set his eyes on. However, here he was, thinking the same thing but about Marco. Marco who was his friend. More importantly, Marco who was his friend who was a guy. The next thing he knew, the boy in question was standing directly in front of him, waving his hand in front of his face and repeating his name over and over.

'Oh, sorry, I was in another world.' He said, smiling a little.

'Can't say I blame you.' Marco replied, chuckling a little. 'The majority of us wish we were in another world all the time.' He had to agree with him there, so he nodded and smiled, before patting Marco's shoulder and twisting him around before pushing him off towards the equipment they were checking.

'Off we go then.' He grinned, and Marco laughed. He laughed such a genuine, lovely laugh and it just made his newly formed infatuation grow stronger. He could already tell that he'd get closer with Marco from here on out, if not to form something more, then to at least have a decent laugh in this hellish world. And that, he decided, sounded perfect.