j'ai menti ( JEAN X MIKASA )

Chapter Two

Trying his best to ignore the giggles of the couple infront of him, he diverted his gaze from them and stared at his calloused palm.

wondering if someone would want to hold it,
wondering if someone would bother to place it in their faces,
wondering if someone wouldn't let go of it,

"Ugh, what am i thinking?" He muttered, making the couple, Hanah and Franz to look at him with a questioning look. He leered at them and ignored their "are you okay jean?" questions.

He may look okay but deep inside he wasn't. He was never been okay ever since his parents died.

After a few more minutes of giggling and flirting, the couple headed inside. these two were always like these during breaks giving him a hard time whether to walk out from them or watch them. He always choose to watch them instead because one,

why the hell would he adjust for them?

and two, he wanted the idea of having a girl like Hannah on his side any time and any where. He didn't like the girl tho, she isn't his type. It's just, jean wanted to see, how a girl would react when they have their special someone behind their backs.

Now that he's alone in that dark, cramped and narrow alleyway amidst the two buildings of the Ackerman's, he began envisioning himself again with his ideal girl. Again, every night when he dawdles, this is what the Jean Kirschtein thinks of.

The girl must be in average height, not too short nor not too tall.

It'd be the best if the girl's asian, but any race would do, he doesn't mind.

Of course, flawless, smooth skin.

What else?

Oh rich. The girl must be rich.

He fished out the last cigarette from his clothe's pocket and litted it using the match he picked up lying on the table counter earlier. He huffed for a smoke then deeply sighed, as he stood up from the nearly rotting box where he's sitting.

Grunting with the several aches of strained muscles, he bent sidewards to stretch his hips out.

"Ahh, damn it. I'm only eighteen and this happens." He spat, then huffed a one last smoke from his cigarette. He threw it on the turning point of the narrow alley where he's in, accidentally hitting a black cat.

'bad luck,' he thought but shrugged it of because no shit, he's doing fine.

There's still half an hour left 'til his break ends so he decided to have an evening stroll to Rose's main plaza. it is often called the "prisma" due to it's aesthetically pleasing scenery. It's colorful and you'll feel very, alive.

"Yo lad! havin' a prism walk tonight?" the bald shoe-maker mr. keith yelled from his shop with a shoe on his hands.

"Good evening sir! Yes, again, i am!" Mr. Keith answered him with a hum.

"Have a good night s-"

"Feel free to visit the shop every sundays boy, we need your horsepower here." The old man winked at him, making jean wince at the sight.

"Yes sir." he answered and strode away as fast as he could.

'No,' he thought.

'I don't want to suffer anymore so, no.'

The last time he dropped by the shop was last month, when he badly needed extra funds for his upcoming project. he was so desparate so he took the offer of ms. hange, leading him to that bald man's shop.

and that's when jean came to know what "hell" means. he was used with fronting his strength for work but in that certain case, he couldn't endure the overwhelming pressure.