Better ~Jean x Reader AU~

Chapter 40: A Good Home

I was greeted by the view of a charming two-story house that was soundly tucked away in a quiet part of Trost. It was a cute structure constructed of alabaster mortar with a number of windows that allowed sufficient light to pour in. Wooden shutters that were painted a sleek black hung along both sides of each window. A stone walking path cut through the lush green grass, leading to the concrete steps and porch. Iron rails painted black lined the steps and vestibule, adding a barrier to keep bystanders from falling off. Colorful flowers of vast species and colors sat snuggly in the garden around the porch as wicker furniture furnished the porch, the sweet song of windchimes rolling through the breeze. Everything about it was like a storybook charisma and I loved it.

"What's this place?" I asked, following Jean as he led me up the steps to the porch.

He turned to me as he dug into his pocket, answering, "My mom's house."

My eyes widened. "T-this is your m-mother's house?"

"Yeah," he replied, sliding a key into the lock and turning to me. "This is my childhood home."

That surprised me. I wasn't expecting to ever go to the house his mother owned, let alone his childhood home. It felt strange, but as I scanned the cute exterior one last time, it seemed to fit. It was quirky and, in a way, so was he. It suited him.

"You grew up here?" I pressed, following him into the house.

"Yeah," he nodded, closing the door behind me. "I know it's not much, but it's what I know."

I glanced around the area. The front door led directly into the main living area with a flight of stairs to the right. The room wasn't large, but wasn't tight, though the furniture in it added a homey vibe to it. Everything was neat and tidy, but I could definitely tell it was lived in with the little touches here and there. Beyond the living room was the kitchen and dining area, the open concept allowing all three spaces to blend together. The kitchen was slightly outdated, but not dramatically and only added charm to the house. Everything from the furniture to the little decorations worked so well together, giving the whole house a country vibe.

"It's cute," I complimented, still following him. "Very homey. I like it."

"Glad you like it," he smiled, making his way to the back door.

He opened it and we made our way outside and what I saw took my breath away. A large screened in porch overlooked an enormous backyard that was brimming with lush greenery and flowers. I could only assume that Jean's mother was fond of gardening. I mean, it said so through all the flowers and plants I saw. It was all like The Garden of Amahara mentioned in the anime Blue Exorcist. It was beautiful.

"Mom?" Jean called, opening the screen door and making his way down the steps into the yard. "Mom?"

"Jeanie?" a woman called, appearing from between the thick brush. "Jeanie, over here!"

She motioned for him to approach and he did so, me following as we darted through the yard. I followed him into the trees and down a small set of stone stairs until we came to where his mother was. She was standing in a circular clearing with a fire pit in the middle of it, her eyes locked on Nala. Nala was standing over by a swing, calmly chewing on some grass. At first, I didn't see it, but upon further inspection, I saw what Jean's mother was looking at. There was already the front two legs of the baby and its head emerging from the deer.

It was her baby.

"Sorry that I didn't call you sooner, Jeanie," Jean's mother said, turning to him. "The labor was progressing slower earlier and then -oh, hello there. Who might you be?"

Her eyes were locked on me, that same kindness that dwelled in her son present in her gaze. She was a short woman with a thicker frame clothed by a basic sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Her long brunette locks were pulled back into a ponytail, giving me a full view of her round face. Much like her son, her features were long in proportion, but that was not a handicap. Just like Jean, I still found her beautiful in her own given right.