"So... I got the letter"
"When?! You opened it? You're in?!" Armin's voice was raising second by second and Jean bit back a smile. "I have to see it"
"Slow down, kid. You can come up and check it or you could-" The door opened and a rushed Armin stormed out right into Jean, sending both boys to the ground. "Open the door" Jean chuckled.
Armin whined and rolled off Jean searching for his phone that flew away when they crashed. The older was still laughing and rubbing his head since it hit the floor. He didn't expect Armin to literally storm out his apartment just for a letter so he thought it was a good idea to stand there and give the boy a surprise.
"You could have warned me, you know?"
"How was I supposed to know you are so excited about it?"
"Of course I am!" Armin readjusted his gassed on his nose in a way that was endearing to Jean, and sat there on his knees, wide electric blue eyes filled by sparkles staring expectant at Jean, the smile returning to his face. "So what does it say?"
"Why don't we... Go inside? And seat somewhere comfortable?" Jean stood up cleaning his clothes and helped the smaller to get on his feet, then both friends got inside Armin's apartment.
After waking up the morning after the party non of them felt comfortable enough to talk about it or brave to try thinking about it by themselves. Even though they knew something changed Jean and Armin pretended everything was normal, as if the warmth in their chests didn't exist, enjoying in silence all those feelings that they didn't know how to face. Armin believed it was just his imagination but he allowed himself to daydream about the possibility of Jean having feelings for him. But Armin was pessimistic, not even realistic.
Jean was a mess in a way he didn't even understand. He knew what it is to have feelings towards someone, real feelings that are starting to grow from a friendship to something more without being able to do something about it. He wasn't oblivious to this, but he was to the other's behavior since he couldn't see the same change in Armin even if it was happening right in front of his eyes. For a song writer who claimed to be observant and interested in understanding people, their feelings and emotions and their ways to express them, he was completely blind to his neighbor's.
But only two days passed before the letter came and stole from them the opportunity of dealing with the situation.
"I can't look at it" Jean shoved the intact letter to Armin and stepped back. He was so nervous he felt about to faint. "Could you read it first?"
"OK" Armin bit his lip and took it, sat down and slowly opened the envelope until he was able to grab the paper inside. He unfolded it and looked at Jean, then breathed out and focused his eyes on the sheet.
The time stopped for Jean until a change on Armin's expression made his heart beat again. The blonde raised his eyes to Jean and showed a wide smile that sent shivers down the older's spine.
"You made it!" He whispered and took off his glasses, then offered Jean the paper. "You are the new producer of Kyojin Entertainment!"
Jean read the letter quickly, feeling his heart rate speed up with every wor,d and when he finished he looked at his friend. That was it, his dream job was finally his and that meant he finally did something good.
"I made it." he spoke almost shakenly and Armin nodded twice like he needed to assure Jean that he read it right, that it was true.
The celebration happened quite quickly, Jean throwing his arm into the air laughing, then taking Armin into and embrace and spinning him around like he was a puppet. Armin giggled and didn't protest waiting for Jean to let go of him, but he didn't.
"Thank you." Jean smiled in the crook of Armin's neck. "I couldn't have made it without you."
"I didn't do anything but talk to you. It's your achievement and yours only."
"Whatever you say, little fella." Armin giggled again and closed his eyes, breathing the fresh scent of Jean's hair, a mix of mint and apples. He felt the urge to run his fingers through it but hold it back not wanting to ruin that moment.
When Jean finally pulled away Armin hoped his face wasn't as hot as it felt. His eyes met a smiley face and sparkling eyes, pure happiness shaping into Jean's features. Armin wasn't sure what he should say or do, so he stood there waiting for Jean to do something, maybe start rambling about how nervous he was, how incredible it was. Anything that could distract Armin and let his insides rest.
What happened though was something that confused the younger at first. Jean's smile faded, his eyes dropped to the ground and he stepped back, running a hand though his hair to his nape and letting it rest there for some seconds. It made no sense, Jean should be happy and excited, dragging Armin out to celebrate the news, he should be talking nonsense and making it hard for Armin to follow his thoughts. Jean had no reason to be sad, worried, down, right?
"Hey, what's wrong?" Armin placed a hand on Jean's shoulder but the boy didn't turn around. "Jean, look at me." And he did. He was biting on his lower lip and avoided Armin's eyes.
"I just... I think I'll have to move back to Tokyo."
Words came out slowly, carefully pronounced like they were burning his throat on their way out. Jean didn't think about it before, his mind blocked out the idea probably protecting him from the need of choosing between his dream and his life. But now there was no way back which ironically meant there was no decision to make anymore, and Jean only then realized that maybe it was easier that way.
For Armin it wasn't a shock, though. He thought about it ever since they went to Tokyo and even if he wasn't too conscious of how possible it was, he had a feeling there was no other way. The ride to Tokyo was long and Jean didn't have a car, or money to buy it at least. And there was no way he could go and come back by train every day with the crazy schedules he would have. He knew it even if he didn't like thinking about it, but when the other said it out loud it somehow turned real. Too real.
But Armin simply nodded, not letting the little heart break to show on his face, and stood calm trying to guess what was going through Jean's mind. He knew the idea wasn't pleasant, specially since Tokyo remembered him too much of Marco and of what happens to them, to him. He also knew that the big city stressed Jean out and moving back would mean him suffering of much stress. But he guessed it was worth it since it meant Jean would finally do what he most desired to.
"Probably. You can also try and move out of the center, somewhere not so crowded. Maybe it won't be so stressing for you." Armin tried his best to sound understanding and chill, showing a smile that turned out to be more sad than he pretended.
"It's not that what worries m.e" Jean finally looked down at him locking eyes, Armin tilted his head like expecting him to keep talking but Jean didn't. He shook his head instead and let himself fall down on Armin's couch. "Never mind, I'll think about it when time comes".
For the next few seconds many emotions gathered in Jean's mind, mixing up into a sickening knock in his throat that didn't allow him to open his mouth and say everything he was feeling. What good would it do, anyways? What would change? Armin was already worried and seemed to be struggling with words as well, it would only make him worse and probably throw out the window the next few weeks they would have to just enjoy each other's company before splitting ways.
So Jean shut up and sighed, tilted his head back resting it on the couch. He was suddenly tired, even exhausted, and just wanted to lie there the whole day.
"Hey." Armin's voice made him react and open his eyes but Jean didn't move. The blonde looked worried, he was leaning forward and for a second Jean's heart sped up with hope, but then Armin stood up and walked away some steps before turning around. "We should celebrate this. You stay here. There's a bottle of wine in one of the drawers of the kitchen that Levi sent me to make it up for stealing my room the other night. I'll go buy a cake and them we'll call your friends and spread the news. OK?" Armin sounded excited but his eyes said otherwise, maybe that's why he was avoiding the other's gaze so much. Jean told him in countless occasions that he was able to read his mind thank to how easily his emotions would change the brightness in his eyes, sparkling when he was excited and almost lifeless and darker when he has angry. It's not like Armin believed Jean, but he had his doubts and decided to stay safe just in case, considering the danger in what he was really thinking about.
"Wine? Old fashion, I like it." Jean smiled back and tried to calm down. He was still happy for getting the job, so he needed to concentrate on the good news and drag himself out of his own misery. At least he still had some days left and he was planning on enjoying them to the fullest. "OK. But you have to pay it, my wallet is upstairs"
"Any suggestion? Some flavor you want?"
"Nope. But make it be as sweet as you." He smirked and Armin rolled his eyes.
"You're old fashion, too." he groaned while searching for his keys.
"It's not like I lied, though."
"Shut up."
"Never" Jean chuckled and stood up. "You're cute while grumpy, by the way."
"And you're annoying."
"I thought you liked that part of me."
"I don't remember that conversation." Armin turned to Jean from the door and the older was staring at him, a smile lingering on his lips softening his features. Suddenly he didn't want to go anywhere away from him, but he bit it back and sighed. "I'll be quick."
"You better."
Jean was left alone and suddenly that place felt a little less familiar without the other boy around. He shook his head to try and get back to reality, then took his phone and searched for the first number that would come up. Armin. OK. The second one. It was his mother. I guess I should call... His insides protested but he shut it down and called, a tiny voice in the back of his head praying for her to decline, but her voice answered at the other side of the line, and Jean knew she didn't check who was calling.
"Hello?"
"Hi, mom." He spoke and heard a little gasp, then two seconds passed by with none of them daring to talk.
"Jean? Is it you?"
"Yeah mom. Your only child, remember?" He sighed.
"I wasn't expecting you to call anytime soon."
"I know... I just have some... News." Now he was doubting. Why am I doing this again?
"Something happened? Are you OK?" He recognized worry in her voice, thing that softened his heart a little. It was his mother, after all, but he wasn't expecting her to worry that fast even though they haven't talk in some months.
"No, mom. I'm fine, everything is fine. Better than fine, actually. That's why I'm calling."
"Oh. That's good. What's it about?"
"It's about a job."
"In the restaurant? Did they promote you? You're better than a waiter, Jeanie." There she was again, but Jean didn't mind this time.
"Not in the restaurant. In the... Music business. As a producer. In Tokyo." Silence again. He knew it wasn't the best idea to tell her he was going back there, he was going to torture himself like that again and go through anxiety attacks until he would get used to it.
"Honey... You remember we're renting the apartment, right?"
"Yeah. No, I wasn't going to move back there either way. They'll pay me enough to rent my own, don't worry about it"
"Good. Honey, I know you don't want to talk about it but-
"Don't. I'm not calling because I'm sad or scared or to... Talk. I just wanted to let you know."
"I'm just worried about you."
"I know mom, but..." He notice the lump already growing in his throat. It always happened while talking to her. She always reminded him of what happened, of why he should move back with them and give up on his dreams because "it was safer that way". He understood she was worried, but he couldn't even see her because the way she would look at him was... Pitiful, like he was made of thin glass that was already cracked and he could crumble any time. And he hated that, feeling torn and weak, unable to get on his feet because of that weight she always reminded him he was carrying. "Never mind. I have to go now, OK?"
"Jean..." She breathed out heavily. "I'm proud of you, you know that, right?" He didn't expect that, either. It came from the person who tried changing his mind for the past ten years, trying to get him into sports, into cooking, encouraging him in pursuing a career as a lawyer, anything but music. She never went to any of their few concerts, never bought a CD. And even if she admitted that he had talent for music and his singing was pretty good, her concept of the music industry was so low she constantly warned him of drugs, of morals. For her, working as a musician wasn't a real job, it was more like a hobby that would eventually end and Jean would end up with half of his life wasted and no studies.
So yea, Jean never thought neither expected her to say those words. His father supported him a lot even in his personal subtle ways of buying him a cake when they first sign the contract with the company, buying tickets that will later give to someone else because he had no time for concerts, or also convincing his mother of letting him live in their little apartment in Tokyo that belong to Jean's mother's deceased brother. And, after Marco, his parents showed up in the funeral and his father made sure to give him the space he needed when his mother only wanted to drag him back home.
"Thank you." He whispered, a small warm wave spreading over his chest digging deeper than he ever though it would, directly to his heart filling one of the holes he struggled with.
"Just, be careful. OK?"
"Don't worry. I'm great now, seriously." He finally smiled, a tiny little one but it was more than nothing.
"What about your friends? How's Krista?"
"Oh they're fine. Krista is studying right now, a future vet. Yimir still lives like she doesn't give a damn and his parents allow her anything. Reiner is taller, this year entered the rugby club. And... People from the restaurant are cool too."
"I'm glad to hear that... Really."
"I know. But mom, I really need to go now, so we'll talk later on, OK?"
"OK. I love you honey."
"Love you too. Tell dad that I called, and when he's back let me know so I can talk to him too."
"I'll tell him."
"Thanks. Bye."
"Take care."
Jean just hummed before hanging up and breather out heavily all the air in his lungs, letting the stress and tension gathered in his guts escape his body, suddenly exhausted and in need of that bottle of wine more than ever.
Jean decided against calling anyone else by the moment an go straight for the alcohol. Too many emotions in too little time caused him a bad stomach ache and the best solution was drinking it away, and when he found the quite expensive Pinot Noir his eyebrows arched.
"Oh, well... At least his taste in wine is good." He murmured and sat in a chair waiting for Armin to come back. Jean watched the hands of his watch tick away the time while observing the small apartment from his place. It looked like his, but the vibes were completely different and he had never been there all alone, finding it a little uncomfortable. But in one way or another it helped him to calm down and regain control over himself.
They were good news, he'd been dreaming for years to get in the music industry, and after the failed attempt with the group Jean nearly gave up on in, not feeling strong enough anymore to endure it. However, time passed and his inspiration didn't disappear, always returning in a way or another distracting him from whatever job he though it was a good alternative. Writing lyrics wasn't as "easy" as before, though, for a person who tried his best to use music as a distraction from himself words became an enemy, to the point the only lyrics he could write were sad, depressing verses. So he concentrated in the music composition, the production part and let his mind lead his fingers through the guitar. He knew there was no other thing in life that would feel the same as music did, so finally being able to do it was somewhat like a dream.
The problem is, if it was like a dream he didn't want to go to sleep just yet because his current reality was as good as that.
"I'm back." Armin's voice startled Jean. He was so immersed in his own dilemma that he didn't hear the door opening and closing or the boy's giggle when he spotted Jean studying the bottle in front of him like he wanted to learn the ingredients by heart.
"Oh hey."
"Having fun yet?" Armin raised and eyebrow at him and Jean just rolled his eyes.
"I was waiting for you to start the party." he smiled and lied his eyes on the box in the blonde's hands.
"Me or the cake?"
"Both" Jean giggled and Armin followed. "Where do you have the... Thing. To open the bottle?" Armin laughed at that, his voice squeaking a little.
"Right." He cleared his throat and Jean kept his eyes on the boy that was struggling to stop laughing but it just escaped his throat free and hopelessly. "Sorry". Breath in, breath out, breath in. He seemed ready to face Jean again but the moment he opened this eyes he cracked again.
" Just... Point to it, OK?" The boy laughed even harder but pointed to one of the drawers and Jean opened the bottle of wine, searching plates and a knife for the cake.
The next half an hour was dedicated to small talks, a lot of staring and, most importantly, eating. Red velvet cake with red whine, a good combination for celebrating such an important event. Armin didn't bring up the subject in some time and that allowed Jean to relax again, clarify his thoughts and just enjoy the moment. He did push him to call his friends, though, and they had to endure cheers and a bunch of happy people inviting themselves over to celebrate. Jean managed, however, to convinced them to hang out the next day and go somewhere, have fun and just enjoy the good time and good news. For their own reason, both boys had zero energy to pretend it was a great day, and didn't have to talk much about it before deciding they would spend that afternoon there, finishing that cake (Jean, mostly) and the bottle of wine (again, Jean) while losing themselves in meaningless conversations and curious memories, details they found interesting and felt like talking about. The boys needed to put themselves together and even if they weren't completely able to, being there, together, like everything was back to normal, it allowed them to forget for a little that their world was about to be torn apart the second they'd say "see you tomorrow". So they didn't, and not for some rational consent they fell into, but because Armin fell asleep laying over Jean's legs while pretending to watch a movie and Jean had no intentions to wake him up.
Jean carried the sleeping boy in to the room, trying to fight back the flashback of that afternoon he found a half dead Armin on the stairs and helped him get to his apartment, put him in bed just like that and felt guilty for his own contribution to the boy's bad state. However his reasons for feelings guilty this time were completely different, even though only few weeks separated both moments. Weeks that felt like months for the huge amount of events that filled his life with unstoppable changes, some bigger than others yet all of them important. Spending time with Armin made a big change in Jean, one that the boy himself never even tried to accomplish. And that is erase his fear of the past. It wasn't completely gone but only started to hunt Jean again that day, after finding out he was moving away of the anchor holding him grounded, away from the enraged waves of memories that move him in his daily basis from place to place in his own mind. Armin was there to talk, he always listened and gave advises as wisely as he knew. Armin never shut his mouth when Jean did something stupid, and even though it never stopped Jean from doing it anyways it was reassuring to have someone to tell him the truth, without the fear of him shattering to pieces. Armin was kind and a little childish, quite innocent, but not really. He was strange, complicated, but so transparent around him like he didn't mind Jean digging into his mind and finding out the answer of unspoken questions. Armin was surely the most interesting, mysterious, complex, and, of course, adorable human being Jean had ever been near of.
And now he was leaving. Or, more precisely, he was forced to leave it all behind without even starting to understand the boy. And that only made Jean hate his own dreams for an instant, looking down at the steady figure of the small boy breathing in and out slowly, peacefully, golden locks spread around messily yet perfectly in some strange way, his lips partially parted letting out puffs of air wit a soft sound. But Jean hated himself even more for not being able to control himself when his body lied down beside the other, embraced Armin who instantly snuggled against his torso and tangled his legs with Jean's like it was instinct, the most natural and beautiful of all the reactions his sleeping mind could have had. And it made Jean's heart pound in his chest with such force he was sure it would wake up the boy if he didn't die before that could happen.
"You know?" he murmured, so quietly it was like a shaky breath that only formed words in the back of his throat. "You don't remind me at all of him. But still, you make me feel just like he did." Jean traced his fingers up Armin's back and tangled them in the long, blonde locks that slid against his skin like the purest silk. "There's something about you, Armin Arlert, that I really need to keep by my side. It drives me crazy in a way it makes me feel sane. I don't even understand myself right now, but I do know that it's a fact it won't go away even if I'll move. Maybe I'll never tell you, or maybe I'll man up and spit it out when I finally make up my mind. But, if there's a chance for us not to fall apart, I promise I'll do everything it takes to stay in your life even if I have to pay Yimir to give me a ride here every weekend just to see you. Wait and see. This won't end before it starts, ok?"
Jean knew he was talking to himself, but still needed to put it in words for it to make sense. It still didn't, but his mind finally shut up and after 45 minutes of staring at the sleeping face of Armin wondering what was he dreaming about, Jean dozed off.
And, surely, that speech wasn't just because of the pile of emotions threatening to break free. It meant something, a promise to himself that he wouldn't go back in time to the boy he was before meeting Armin. Even though that boy wasn't bad, he was hurt and had no hope to find a cure anytime soon. But here it was, in the shape of a funny, naive, fashionable and a little (a lot) scary when angry blonde boy, and Jean wasn't going to lose it without a fight. Even though he still wasn't sure of how close he wanted Armin to be (even if he kind of suspected it. Kind of a lot), Jean was sure they were meant to meet somehow and you can never give up on what fate puts in your way. Never.