Strings Attached / J. Kirstein

26

The sunlight hit the living room like a spotlight, reflecting off soda-sticky floors and scattered cushions, and you groaned softly as you tried to open your eyes. Every muscle ached, your head pulsed faintly, and even the faintest sound—a distant laugh, a clinking cup—made you wince. Yep. Hungover.

"Ugh..." someone groaned dramatically from the couch. You turned slightly to see Sasha sprawled with a blanket half-off her, looking equally miserable. Connie was groaning into a pillow next to her, muttering something about regret and water.

You swore softly under your breath, sitting up carefully. Your hair was sticking in odd directions, and you could already feel your stomach protesting the memory of last night's chaos.

Jean stirred beside you, blinking blearily. "Morning," he muttered, voice rough from lack of sleep and maybe too much cheering. He raised a hand in a weak salute before leaning back with a groan.

"Morning," you croaked, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous you both looked—hair messy, clothes rumpled, and eyes half-lidded from exhaustion.

From across the room, Reiner groaned so loudly you winced. "Who thought beer pong and makeshift fort-building at 3 a.m. was a good idea?"

Eren coughed, muffled under a blanket on the floor. "Who cares... just get me water..."

You sighed, taking in the scene. Pillows were everywhere, empty cups littered the floor, and someone had left a cushion on top of a small table, somehow balancing precariously with a solo cup teetering on the edge. It was chaos. Pure hungover chaos.

Jean nudged you gently with his knee. "You survived," he murmured, smirking slightly despite his own misery.

Barely managing a laugh, you replied, "Barely. And I'm not sure anyone else did either."

Sasha peeked from under her blanket. "You two... lucky you're not hungover together," she teased, smirking despite her own pain. "Wouldn't survive."

Jean raised an eyebrow, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Oh, come on... we survived perfectly fine," he said, voice low and teasing. His hand brushed yours lightly, and the heat of it made the hangover dull just slightly.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, trying to ignore how flustered you were. "Survived the hangover and last night's chaos."

Someone coughed from the pile of blankets on the floor. "Seriously... water," Armin muttered, half-buried under a throw pillow. Mikasa just rolled her eyes but handed him a bottle anyway.

You laughed softly, looking at Jean. "We should probably help... before someone spills more water on someone else."

Jean grinned lazily, stretching a little. "Or we could just... stay here a while longer," he murmured, brushing his thumb against yours. You smirked, shoving him lightly.

"Don't even think about it," you said, though your voice was soft, teasing.

The rest of the morning was a chaotic blur of moans, half-asleep friends stumbling toward the kitchen for coffee or water, and you and Jean quietly watching the madness. He kept brushing his hand against yours when no one was looking, smirking every time you caught him, and the combination of hungover fatigue and subtle flirtation made it impossible not to grin.

Eventually, Sasha nudged you, smirking. "See? Survived last night. Don't worry... we'll all eventually forgive ourselves," she said, her tone dripping with mock sympathy.

Jean leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "And somehow, through all this chaos... I still think last night was worth it," he murmured, smirk softening just enough to make your stomach flip.

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.