❧ Day 2 | November 24 | Confession
“Jean!” Her voice was a cry of alarm. “I’ll go get help!” She said while turning to run the other direction.
“No!” He barely caught her wrist, the force in his arm now draining out. “Please…” His voice was a hoarse, desperate whisper, “… stay here.”
Time had stopped. Everything was completely still, numb, except for the steady beat of her heart. Jean listened to it as intently as he could, his senses gradually leaving him. His world may have been a pathetic train wreck, but right now, in that moment, lying in the arms of Mikasa Ackerman as life slowly left him, nothing could convince Jean that it hadn’t been worth it.
Jean squinted his eyes as his vision got blurrier, Mikasa’s beautiful face coming into his view. He felt something wet dripping on his cheek, and was surprised when he noticed the girl beside him was crying. Mikasa was crying. She was crying for him. Jean’s brows knit together in pain, but he couldn’t help the small smile forming on his bloodied lips. With all the strength he could muster, he lifted his good arm until his fingertips laced themselves in Mikasa’s silky raven locks. He’d always wanted to touch them, those dark ebony trusses of a beauty so profound that even the starry skies paled in comparison, their rich sensual blackness comparable only to the blackness of her infinitely gorgeous eyes; eyes that were reflecting his face; eyes that were crying for him.
Nothing in the whole world could compare to this moment, a moment so eternal it would be frozen in his soul till the end of time. For even if it would last a mere few minutes, in that one moment, there was nothing in the whole world except for the two of them. Jean, and Mikasa.
He felt her soft hand gripping his own, the warmth of her palms perforating through his skin, seeping through the mind-numbing pain from his injuries, like a ray of sunlight in a cold, dark place. Jean took in a deep breath, trying to prolong the moment for as long as he could, engraving in his mind every aspect of the closeness he was sharing with the long admired object of his unrequited love.
“Mikasa…” Her name was a hoarse, defeated, melodious whisper against his lips. “I… I have… always… always…”
The winds around them grew intensely colder; and the only sound in the air was that of her tears.