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↳ 07 , found
warnings : angst
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❝nothing's gonna hurt you baby, nothing's gonna take you from my side❞
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"You ready back there?" you asked Jean, who was sitting in the cart behind you.
"Yup."
Tugging the reigns, you set the horses into motion and began the short journey to Trost. The horses' hooves buckled over the winding road, the wheels of the cart creaking every time you passed over the small stones that paved the way there.
You rode for a while, occasionally engaging in short conversations with Jean and, before you knew it, soon the sun was setting over the horizon.
"We should find somewhere to stop for the night," Jean remarked, his hands outstretched behind his head.
You kept the horses moving. "But we're just about there, a tiny bit more to go..." you whined.
"It's dark, we're stopping."
"I'm not letting the dark stop us... I'm perfectly capable of driving this cart."
"It's not the dark, it's what's in it. Bandits, y/n."
"It's not like there's anything worth stealing here," you persisted.
"Tsk, do you have to be so goddamn careless? You're under my guard, so I'm not gonna let you get hurt over something stupid like this. Now, gimme those," he argued, standing up in the cart and walking over to where you sat, stumbling slightly as the cart passed bumps in the track. Grabbing the reigns, Jean seized control and jumped over the front of the cart, into the driver's seat.
"Hey! Get off!" you growled. In your hands, you yanked the leather reigns that were still in your grip, causing the horses to bolt all of a sudden.
"Fuck, you idiot!" Jean shouted as the horses continued to speed up.
You lost your control and fell back into your seat at the sudden jolt, making Jean's eyes flash with concern for a second. You and him both struggled for balance over the seat, Jean keeping one hand on both reigns while the other was shielding you from falling off of the cart.
"Quick, get balanced and I'll control them. Hold onto me, or you'll go flying," he demanded.
Giving in, you tightened your arms around his side as the carriage seemed jump over every crack and pothole.
Finally being able to use both of his hands to control the horses, Jean pulled them to a halt, just in time to stop you from crashing. The cart grounded to a stop, and you kept a scared grip of Jean while the both of you collected your breathing, panting.
"This is why I'm in charge," Jean breathed out.
"Whatever, Kirschtein."
"Are you hurt?" he turned to you and asked, examining your form.
"W-what do you mean?" A stutter jumped out of your mouth.
"I said, are you hurt?" Jean continued, reaching for your jaw with his hand.
You caught it, and pushed it back to his side.
"I'm fine, Jean," you tried to brush him off.
"No you're not," Jean proceeded, taking your jaw in his hand again and cocking it up to inspect your neck.
"...There's a bruise," he concluded, tracing a finger over the blue mark.
"Well don't touch it, moron. It's nothing serious, so leave it now," you hissed back and swatted his hand away.
"C'mon, you know you love me," he smirked. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
You gave him a light punch in the arm, before speaking, "Shut up and find us somewhere to spend the night like you insisted already. I'm tired after that."
Eventually, you came across a small inn, and parked the cart outside, leaving the horses in the stables for the night.
"One room, two beds, for tonight please," you asked whilst slipping the man behind the desk some money.
He looked down at the log of rooms on his desk, skimming over the sheet with an ink quill before giving you an apologetic look. "All the double rooms are taken; you've arrived at quite a late hour. We have a one bed room, if that'll do."
You guess you'd have to solve this dilemma the way you used to get out of difficult situations.
"Now listen here you little shi-" you started, going to take him by the collar, only for Jean to grab your shoulder and pull you back effortlessly.
"Sorry about her. She can be a bit... short-tempered," Jean apologised to the man, who was now turning pale.
Heat rose to your face in embarrassment as Jean elbowed you in the side, trying to hint you to apologise too.
"Sorry..." you grumbled out.
"We'll take the single room, if that's alright," Jean smiled at the man, who's scared expression eased as he passed Jean the keys.
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Tossing the single bag you had brought to the floor, you let out a heavy sigh and flung yourself into a wooden chair. It was nice being able to relax for the first time since the morning.
"You really need to improve your people skills, you know that?" Jean smirked while dumping his bag down as well and laying flat on the bed.
"Tch, I think I'm just fine." You got up from the chair. "Anyway, I'm fucking exhausted, we should get to bed." You dragged a blanket off of the bed and laid it down on the floor.
Then, you proceeded to change in the bathroom, and when you returned, Jean was already making himself comfortable in the bed. His eyes momentarily widened at the sight of you in a nightdress, standing at the door, his eyes contained a look, almost a look of longing.
"Pass me a pillow, would ya?" you called over your shoulder.
"Why? What are you doing?" Jean asked, looking down at you arranging a makeshift bed on the floor with confusion.
"Making myself comfortable so I can sleep down here, obviously, bitchboy," you frowned at him.
He paused for a moment, sitting up in bed, his muscles revealed from underneath the covers. You swallowed a little as your eyes darted down to his abs uncontrollably, before you averted them elsewhere.
"Why don't you just sleep in the bed? Unless you'll find it too hard to resist me," he teased. The cheeky look on his face triggered a pit in your stomach to bubble up.
Making your way over to him, you put your blanket back on the bed reluctantly and huffed. "...Fine. But don't get any ideas, horseface."
You were secretly glad Jean offered the bed to you - it was far warmer and comfier than sleeping on the floor would be, but he didn't need to know that you thought that. As you climbed in, you sensed a nervousness in him from your close proximity. Jean's face flushed a tad, and you couldn't help but notice his eyes occasionally tracing over you, as yours did over him. Trying to keep as much a distance as you could to avoid becoming too intimate, you turned on your side and tried to fall asleep.
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The night was unforgiving, like any other. Sleep was a far-off fantasy that you were nowhere near achieving, unlike Jean who was sound asleep on the other side of the bed. You looked over to him, his face tranquil and complacent as he slept, strangely beautiful in a way.
However, he soon began to twitch and turn, tossing in the covers as his peaceful expression changed to a stressed one. Jean's eyebrows knitted and he flinched slightly, clearly having some kind of nightmare.
"Marco..." you heard him say, his voice filled with an anguish that hurt your heart to hear.
When tears started to fall from his clenched close eyes, you decided to do something. Sitting up on the bed, you lifted his heavy body to yours and began stroking his hair and rested a palm against his cheek. For whatever reason, it hurt you to see him like this.
"Jean, hey..." you whispered, trying to keep your tone quiet so not to frighten him further. He tossed again, his unconscious mind scarred and burdened. "You need to wake up for me..." Your fingers tapped his cheek with their pads.
Streaks of fear glinting in them, Jean's eyes flickered open as he woke up in your arms. Catching his breath, he stared back at you, noticeably shaken.
"It was just a night terror... You're okay," you soothed him, thumbing away one of his tears.
Jean came to terms with the world he was in, and silently tightened his arms around you, burying his head into your side as he recovered, without a word. You knew what night terrors were like - you could see the pain he was in.
"Nothing's gonna hurt you... I won't let it," you hushed, laying back in the bed, taking Jean with you as you kept a gentle hold of him.
For one night, you allowed myself to be close to someone, rubbing circles on Jean's back in the hopes he would fall asleep again. While one arm snaked around you, the other rested by your shoulder, so his hand could cup your head. You were tilted into him, tucked away into his chest as he held onto you like you were all he had left.
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Your limbs tangled from the night before, the morning sun woke you up. Your eyes lifted open, and you were momentarily confused, realising that you had actually managed to get some sleep for once, in someone's arms.
His lips parted slightly, Jean rested his head in the crook of your neck.
"Sleepyhead..." you murmured, prompting him to wake up too.
"Huh... Oh, good morning," he mumbled in a raspy voice, the vibrations of it hitting your skin as he spoke.
"You alright?" you asked him.
"Better... Sorry if I caused you any trouble..."
"Don't worry, as long as you're okay," you comforted him - the softness in your own voice made you unsettled at your seemingly astounding change in character.
It was like you couldn't help but be soft with him.
"Do you need to talk about it?" you asked him, pulling out of the hug and sitting up beside him, in the middle of the bed.
Uneasy, his face filled with pain again as he recalled his dream. "Just an old friend, Marco. He was the only one who ever believed in me, saw me for more than a selfish coward... Then at Trost... tch." He began to struggle over his words. Building up the strength to continue, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes shut. "He saved me, at Trost. But when the time came, I wasn't there to save him."
"Jean... I'm so sorry," you responded, seeing the sadness in every small detail of his face. You placed your hand atop of his and squeezed it. "But Marco would be proud of you, y'know that? You're anything but a coward..."
You felt Jean's arms wrap around you again as he pulled you in for another embrace, his chin rested on top of your head. His breathing was shaky; you could tell he was trying to hold in tears. Trying to soothe him again, you stretched upwards and lifted your palm to his cheek.
"Come on now, we've got a busy day today, hmm?"
"Yeah, we have..."
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word count : 1858
a/n: yeah i'm a sucker for the 'there's only one bed' trope, what about it?
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