There's a Thin Line Between Hate and Love (JeanxEren)

Scene XXII

Hopefully it didn't sound serious.

"Well, I obviously don't have any weaknesses. But if you want to know about me, I hope you're capable of being all ears. Apparently I can't stop talking about myself."

I snort.

"You really can't. Well, before at least. You used to tweet about it all the time, post selfies on insta, etc. You're such a social media whore."

"Hey! Interacting with my followers is important!"

"You're thirsty for likes," I tell him, a smug expression on my face.

"I was," he emphasizes. "But I've stopped caring about all that recently."

He looks at me, just a second past the range of 'normal/coincidental eye contact'.

"Anyway. If I'm going to tell you everything, I think it should be somewhere aside from that place. It doesn't really belong to either of us anyway."

No, but it's where we're living.

"Why do we have to go somewhere else? To have a specific place?"

"Because, I think it's important. And you know, in the future you can tell your kids, 'Hey, this is where I learned everything about my archnemesis', or something."

I don't see why I would talk about him to my future children, but if he wants to go somewhere then we'll go.

"Do you need me to direct you somewhere?" I ask, figuring he still hasn't bothered to look at a map or even try to learn his way around.

"Nah. I already know where we're going."

Jean fishes his keys out of his pocket.

"I drove here, too, so I'm just going to follow behind," I say.

"Oh. Okay, just make sure you stay close to me."

I have no idea why that phrasing sounded so damn ambiguous.

I nod, heading to my own car.

As I follow Jean, I realize we're going in the direction of the place I used to live. My chest clenches at the memory. Everything was easier back then. My dad was here, my mom wasn't as sick as she is now, and I was...happy.

Genuinely happy.

I force myself to relax once I realize I'm gripping the steering wheel.

Jean slows and parks his car by a playground. A playground I'm very familiar with.

"I keep passing by this place," he says. "And for some reason I'm just drawn to it."

He opens his trunk and pulls out a bag-looking thing.

"There's a hill over there. This is a picnic blanket by the way- it's just folded."

"Oh. I was wondering what that was."

I follow behind him, watching the kids in the park, smiling at one another.

"I wish my life had stayed that simple," I say aloud, not really meaning to.

Jean looks back at me, then unfolds the blanket, placing it on the ground. He sits, then pats to the space beside him.

I let myself plop beside him, but not too close.

"I've always loved the sky," he starts. "I just always thought it was nice to look at." He lays down. I almost want to laugh because it sounds so melodramatic, but I don't. 

"I grew up in Chiba with my mom. I never met may dad, and my mom's never talked about him. I don't really feel like I missed out on much, 'cause my mom always gave me a lot of attention. Honestly, I think that despite living alone with my mom, I had a much better home situation than most. We were always well off, even though she seemed to always be at home. I'm guessing she either inherited it or got it from my father. I played soccer when I was really small, then I told my mom I wanted to be an actor.