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↳ 08 , loverboy
warnings : harassment
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
❝i'd like for you and i to go romancing,
say the word, your wish is my command❞
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
"So where are we headed first?" Jean inquired as you strolled along the streets of Trost.
Jean seemed pretty relaxed to be back in his hometown, compared to you, as you kept a wary eye out and shielded your face underneath a fabric hood. It was fair to say you had earned a reputation in these parts, and although your face had changed a bit with age, you weren't going to take any risks.
"I'm not sure... Should we visit your family first? I mean, seeing as things may not go so smoothly with mine, I want to keep my half of the promise," you answered, swallowing back a gulp of dread at the idea of meeting your mother again.
The only hope you had was that time had knocked some sense into her, and that Lance would be as forgiving as he had always been. Deep down you knew the chances of that were slim, as the crimes you had committed were indefensible.
You were snapped out of your worries when Jean began to speak again. "Oh, thanks. Follow me, it's not far from here... But when we do see your mother and Lance, it'll be okay, okay?" He lead you up a turning to a small hill.
"If only we could be so sure..."
As you both walked past a busy market stall, a man counting up his money stared at Jean and you, and a feeling of unease washed over you.
"What's the hood for, girlie? Lift it up, let me get a good look at you and that pretty face of yours," he jeered at you, gesturing for you to lift the hood.
You tugged it down even further and walked on, drawing yourself closer into Jean's side for safety.
"Don't be shy now, beautiful..." You heard it from behind you again. Seeing you leave, the man had hobbled out of his chair and approached you and was now grabbing the back of your cloak in his hand and yanking it. There, in the centre of a crowded market, you had been revealed in broad daylight.
"y/n!" Jean gasped, pulling you away from the man.
"Don't shout my name out loud like that, you moron," you hissed at Jean under your breath.
Quickly, you jolted away and moved towards the man who had seen you. He had a perplexed look on his face. You knew he was dangerous.
"Say... you're not that l/n girl are y-"
Panicking, you pulled the hood back over your head and grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it back on itself, and sending him toppling to the ground in pain.
"Keep those hands to yourself; nobody else wants 'em," you spat, launching your boot into his ribs over and over until he was letting out groans.
Leaving the man behind us, you took Jean by the arm and pulled him up the street hastily, running away from anyone who witnessed the incident.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think that through," Jean apologised, pulling his wrist out of your hand.
"It's fine, it was an accident," you replied, checking back over your shoulder, just in case.
For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, eventually reaching gridded streets of a neighbourhood you didn't recognise.
"So where is this place? We're not lost, are we?" you asked Jean, lifting an eyebrow.
"It's just up here, actually," Jean smiled. He lead you up to the door of a quaint home and knocked on it.
A kind-eyed woman, with the same brown hair as Jean, answered the door, her face immediately lightening up upon realising who had knocked. "Jean-bo! You're home!" she welcomed, her eyes glistening with joy.
You gave Jean a pleased sly smirk upon hearing his nickname. His mother pulled him into a tight hug, and he hugged back stiffly. "Hi, mother," he greeted her awkwardly.
Ms. Kirschtein looked past Jean's shoulder, to where you were standing, and smiled another sweet smile. "And you brought back a girlfriend! I never thought I'd see the day!" she rejoiced, stepping forward and hugging you too.
Before either of you could interject, she spoke again, "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Uh, y/n, but you see I'm not actually-"
"y/n, what a beautiful name! I recognise it from one of Jean's letters! Come through to the kitchen, you kids must be starving, no?"
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
jean's pov:
It would be rude to turn down my own mother's kind hospitality, so we took a seat at the table while she began cooking at the wood-fired stove.
"Jean-bo here loves his omelettes, don't you?" she told y/n, separating some egg whites from the yolks into a bowl.
"I'm sure Jean-bo does," y/n giggled. Her teasing made me blush pink, and an unknown uneasy feeling flooded my stomach at the sound of her laugh.
While my mother's back was turned, I gave her a quick scowl and whispered, "Two can play that game, l/n."
"So, how did Jean manage to persuade a girl as gorgeous as you to date him?" my mother asked, the smell of eggs frying filling the kitchen.
y/n went to speak, but I cut her off.
"I often wonder that too, mother. How I could land someone as amazing as her..."
Water spilled out of y/n's mouth in surprise. y/n looked at me blankly, to which I smirked, grabbed her smaller hand in mine and stroked her soft skin with my thumb. All the teasing and mind games aside, the way her fingers laced into mine was adorable... Nevermind.
There was another knock at the door and my mother turned around to see us hand-holding.
"Awh, look at you two! I'm going to go get that, watch the omelettes, Jean," she told us, leaving the room to fetch the door.
As soon as we were the only people left in the room, y/n snapped her hand away from mine.
"What in the Walls do you think you're doing?" she whisper-shouted.
"I was just playing a game of happy families, y/n. Wouldn't want to disappoint my mother after all this kindness she's showing us, you know."
y/n landed a light punch to my arm in response.
"Ow!" I yelped, just as we heard the door to the kitchen creak back open.
Pretending to laugh at something I'd said, y/n snaked her arm around my waist and rested her hand on my chest. It was like I was set alight at the feeling of her touch, and it was like she knew it.
"Is everything okay, Ms. Kirschtein?" y/n asked.
"Just someone coming around, telling me to look out... Apparently there's some kind of criminal on the loose, spotted at the market earlier, they've been wanted for years. Someone about your age, actually, h/c hair, e/c eyes..." she trailed off, looking y/n up and down.
y/n's fingers dug into me in fear.
"You almost perfectly fit the bill, don't you y/n? How funny is that? It's a good thing you're on the right side of the law - in the military," my mother finished, each sentence she spoke inching y/n closer to losing her meticulously-maintained cover.
As I saw panic creep into y/n's features, I pulled her in closer to my side again.
"That sure is... funny. I mean y/n, being a criminal? That would be ridiculous, she's far too much of a softie," I laughed it off, trying to impede any suspicions my mother might have.
I could practically feel y/n's eyes dig into the my head at my use of the word 'softie'.
"Yeah, ridiculously ridiculous," y/n added, her jaw tight and strained.
We watched in suspense as my mother's eyes softened at us and she poured the omelettes out of the pan.
"Come on, let's get you fed!" she smiled.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
The afternoon went by fast, Jean catching up with his mother for the first time in a while, as you invented a long backstory of your 'relationship'. Soon enough, afternoon turned to evening, and evening to night.
"I'm going to catch an early night; it's been lovely having you... Be sure to wake me up before you leave tomorrow, okay Jean-bo? And make sure y/n is comfortable tonight," Ms. Kirschtein told us as she retired to her room for the night. She gave Jean a wink at the last part.
"Goodnight Ms. Kirschtein!" you chirped from Jean's side, pretending that you didn't even hear what she had said.
The door clicked shut and your sigh of relief was almost audible.
"Where we sleepin'?" you asked Jean, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes as you struggled not to get yourself lost in them.
"Uh, well there's my room, and I can take the couch," Jean replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
You took him by the hand and lead him to the other bedroom. "What good couple sleeps apart? Your mother will never believe that!"
"...Couples that are... I don't know... waiting til marriage?"
"You're the one who got us into this mess, so if we're gonna play games, we may as well win them," you told him. You got your pyjamas out of your bag. "Look away," you ordered him, stripping off and changing into the same nightdress from the night before.
Jean did the same, and when you turned around he was wearing a set of pyjama trousers.
"Do you ever wear a shirt to bed?" you questioned him, hating how your mind found the sight of him shirtless so irresistible.
"It's a dude thing, I'm a dude, it's what dudes do," he answered you while you pulled the covers back and slipped into bed.
You made yourself comfortable, fidgeting where you lay for a moment.
Jean turned his head to you and spoke, "Have you got enough bedding?"
"I'm fine."
"Just don't want you to get cold... or something," Jean whispered, half-intending for you to not hear it.
The candle on the bedside table was blown out, and you entered another night of desperately searching to find peaceful sleep.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Another morning arrived, and another night you somehow had managed to sleep through. Yet again, you had woken up in Jean's arms, his long limbs spooning you with his head tucked over yours.
Suddenly, the realisation hit you: today you would be confronting your mother. It had been years, and there had been no attempt from her to reconnect - or at least any that you knew of. Surely, this was a mistake...
No. It was the least you owed them, answers. You could finally leave your old life to die, and set it all behind yourself.
As the fear submerged you, you sensed Jean come awake, his eyes blinking once or twice before he quickly retracted his arms away from you.
"I- Sorry," he murmured, sitting at his side of the bed.
"Don't worry..." you responded, barely paying attention since your mind was on other things.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
"It was lovely meeting you," you smiled at Ms. Kirschtein as she waved you and Jean off.
"You too. Remember, if you're ever in Trost, my door is always open," she cooed.
"Bye ma," Jean waved.
"Goodbye Jean-bo, you be good now!" Jean's mother told him as she shut the door.
The moment Ms. Kirschtein was gone, you covered yourself with your hood once again.
"You lead the way," Jean commented.
"We're going to take the backstreets; there'll be less people there," you swerved around a corner onto a narrow alleyway, Jean following after you.
You walked for a long while, until we had reached the other side of Trost. Long alleys snaked together, small and cramped houses bundled together either side of the roads. Then you reached one house in particular, one you recognised to be your old home.
"This is it," you breathed, looking at your childhood house for the first time in years.
"You ready?" Jean asked worriedly.
"As ready as I could ever be..."
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word count : 1983
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