Chapter VIII : Eight Hushed Whispers

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Chapter Eight : Eight Hushed Whispers

Jean stared at the black screen of his desktop. He bit his lip, not sure if he dared to turn it on. Last time he tried, he ended up having a crying fit of frustration after not being able to crack his password for the eight hundredth time. Jean would never admit it, but his memory's incompetence was driving him over the edge. He drummed on the desk impatiently thinking about his past self's password hint, "Her Favorite Band" . Who was this er that was so worthy of his affection that he put her as the subject of his password.


Jean threw his head back and caught Marco looking at him through a crack in his door. He closed his eyes and pretended not to notice to frantic man walking back and forth in the hallway. Great this was all he needed - Marco monitoring his every move. Thank god he couldn't get to the adult films that were more than likely to be hiding in his computer. "You know I want to tell him!" Marco whispered harshly. Jean's ears perked up at the mention of withheld information.


Sitting up, he feigned interest in a book lying randomly on his desk. The copy of (insert your favorite book here) was in pretty good condition but obviously worn down from frequent reading. Picking it up, he tried to zero in on Marco's conversation. "He...us...doesn't...know...think." the snippets Jean heard coming from Marco felt like the late night Walkie Talkie sessions they had as children. Choppy, incoherent, and barely there.


Jean was taken aback on how well he seemed to keep the book the more he inspected it. "Book...dangerous...take it from...gave it...he's reading." Marco sounded more distressed giving Jean a sliver of hope of remembering something. Wearing a triumph smirk, he silently thanked Marco for being a worry rat and opened the book.


His eyes landed on the long letter within the inside cover. He tried to peg the girly ass hand writing on Marco, but he remembered trying to read the chicken scratching on the grocery list last night. Yeah definitely not Marco. His eyes immediately searched the bottom of the letter for any sign of who wrote it.


"Quoth The Raven Forever Yours"


"Thanks that's no fucking help." Jean muttered as he settled for just reading the whole damn thing.


"Hey Horse Face! Watching Say Yes To the Dress with you after our double date with Marco was a perfect way to end the night! I'm sorry I'm always hot tempered and always pick fights with my roommate! You know how she gets sometimes. But waking up next to your arrogant face is worth it."


Jean stopped an eighth of the way in . Could Eren possibly be behind this long ass letter? He was the only one who seemed to fit the writing style of the letter. Jean's eyes widened at the amount little hearts that littered the letter. "That irritable brunette and I?" he whispered under his breath as he skimmed through the rest of the letter baffled by the sudden turn of events.


He sucked in air between his two front teeth as the letter became more and more romantic. God was Eren good at articulating. Jean felt himself blush at the tidbits feeling the back of his brain rejoice at the familiar act of romance. He still wasn't sure how it happened, but he knew (Y/n) had a strong connection to it. He just knew it. His brain wouldn't just conjure her image as he read the letter for nothing.


Given that he didn't feel anything for Eren at the moment Jean felt his gut wrench in guilt. Eren obviously loved him. He loved him with every ounce of his core, and that accident. Tracing some of the hearts with his fingers, Jean couldn't understand how easily Eren was wiped out of his life. No wonder Eren was so curt to him all the time. Who wouldn't in his situation?!

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