Jean had never been one to show his feelings. Well, all except one: anger. Oh yes, he expressed that emotion with ease. His goals were all he thought about- survival and getting into the safety of the Military Police. He didn't care about honor, he simply wanted to live in as much peace as possible, unlike his late family.

That was, until Marco.

Marco was a bright sunflower in a field of dead grass to Jean, freckles and all. Oh how Jean loved his freckles. Skin-stars, he had liked to call them.

Ever since they met in training, Jean had formed a certain attraction to Marco, and Marco for Jean. They helped each other out in those 3 years of hell, as a matter of fact, they may have not made it through without each other.

And of course, they had to keep it secret. Slipping into each other's beds when the coast was clear. Sneaking kisses in privacy. Who knows how the other trainees would react?

At least, that's what Jean insisted at first. But slowly, they began to show affection for each other publicly. They didn't know if they had a tomorrow, so, might as well.

Their friends had taken it well, not minding at all. Jean had worried too much. Most even encouraged it. They knew that they completed each other, even though it had not been announced. A bit of love was dearly needed in all of the death.

Jean didn't know how he lost Marco that day at Trost. He thought he would be alright, just as he usually is when Jean was leading, Marco had encouraged him himself. But he couldn't find him. A tiny part of him was gnawing away at the possible unspeakable explanation of Marco's absence.

And yet his fears were granted.

He couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his beautiful, smiling, shining, freckled Marco chopped in half, left on the floor to rot. It took all he could to not burst into tears, he figured he should be strong for Marco's sake. He only let out a few murmers, mutters to the nurse asking questions.

When he was finally alone, Jean cried. Not the soft weeping when your fish dies, but the heart-driven, deep, lonely sobs left specifically for a moment like this, the moment when your lover dies.

There was no Marco to hold him as he cried like he usually did. No Marco to brush his tears away. No Marco to remind him that there's something worth living for.

So what was the point?

Humanity was already done for, he saw no proper usage of himself other than to stuff the mouth of a titan.

Marco was gone, there was no one he loved left in this henious world.

So why not?

It didn't take much to convince himself. Jean took a titan blade and wielded it firmly in his hands, this time pointed at his abdomen instead of a giant's neck.

He cleared his throat to allow his broken voice shift through the tears. "Oh Marco," his hands trembled, "My Marco, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. Now please, I ask one thing, Marco, one thing," he prepared himself for the impact and sucked in a breath, "Please wait for me."

completed at 5:17 am