𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗰𝘁𝘀, 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘀𝗰𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗻

𝟬𝟵 || 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲

You had not betrayed your mother.  She had never given you a knife to stab her in the back with to begin with.  She had never loved you.

Nearly making you lose the ability to stand, your legs began to shake and tears began to fall from your eyes. Jean sensed tried to stop your fall by holding onto you.  As you crumbled to the ground, he panicked, and kissed the crown of your head.

"There, that's the truth. I told you that I'm not going to be the one to kill you, so leave before I'm left with no other choice!"

The door slammed in your faces and you dropped to your knees in utter despair.

"y/n..." Jean exhaled, his voice sorrowful.

Yet again, you found yourself seeking solace in his arms. Falling into his chest, your body weakened as his secured around it.

"I... I hate her..." you cried as you hugged him tighter.

"y/n, please, she never deserved you..."

"It's her fault... Everything. It's her fault that I had to kill Pembroke, that I met Lance, that I murdered his mother, that I ended up in the Underground... An assassin. She did this to me, her... daughter.  She made me a killer," you choked over your own words as the realisation of it all washed over you, the waters of it drowning you.

"I'm so sorry y/n... I really am. But it's best we get out of here..." Jean hushed you.  He let you stay there for a minute, and then stood up and offered you a hand.

Weakly, you took it, and Jean lead you promptly away from the house. Tears were falling rapidly down your face, and you did your best to wipe them away, sniffing as you did.  You didn't need to draw any attention to yourself, especially not after that encounter.

"I mean... I knew this wouldn't go down exactly easily... I thought my mother loved me, and there would be forgiveness in her heart, even just a little bit. But, there isn't, and apparently, there never was," you thought out loud.

Jean's and your fingers brushed together as you walked, tentatively touching, with every brush sending a shock through you. You let your pinky-finger link with his, looping together for a moment, before the rest of your fingers interlocked. In an attempt to comfort you, Jean squeezed your hand in his.

"You must be exhausted after all that... Let's find you somewhere to rest," Jean uttered, heading for the inn you had stayed at the other night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You found yourselves at the front desk again, but this time you didn't have the fire in you to argue with the man, or even do as much as look him in the eye.

"Two single beds, please," Jean requested, paying the man the fee.
"Here's your key, thank you for coming," the man smiled nervously.

As the door to your room shut, you pulled back the hood, revealing your puffy face and reddened bloodshot eyes. Jean's hazelly ones darkened at seeing the state of you.  He stepped forward and pulled you into his chest. You let yourself stand there for a moment, holding your hand to your face and biting your nails slightly.

"It's all going to be alright, I promise," he murmured, kissing you lightly on the head again and letting go.

Looking back up at him somehow made your eyes glaze over with tears again. How had you let yourself become so vulnerable with someone? And why him?

"Don't cry," he reaffirmed you, reaching his hand to your cheek tenderly.
"Oh, Jean," you managed to mutter with grief, burying yourself into his torso again, crying into the crook of his neck.
"Are you still up for tomorrow? Because if you don't want to, we can just skip town," Jean asked.
"I don't know... I'll sleep on it," you decided, backing out of the hug again.
"You go get comfy, take a nice hot bath or something. I'll be back, I'm not going anywhere, okay?" he said calmly.