Thunder [JeanMarco]

Thunder

Each time it struck, he cried a little inside. Jean sat on his bed, curled up in a ball with his head lying against his knees. He had never liked thunder but he had never been able to tell anyone about his fear. Jean thought it was irrational, and frankly anyone would laugh knowing he was afraid of something the nature.

    It banged again, slightly louder than the previous, and he pushed his head harder into his knees and clenched his eyes tightly shut. If Eren ever found out that this was his rival’s weakness, Jean would face a life of humiliation.

“No. He can’t find out about this,” Jean muttered.

“Who can’t find out about this?”

    Jean shrieked, and quickly covered his mouth when Marco’s head peered at him.

“Don’t do that!”

    Marco giggled, and climbed onto the bed so he sat beside Jean. The latter shifted to change his position, trying to hide his weakness. He couldn’t let Marco find out about this. He was supposed to be the strong one!

“Sorry!” he smiled. “I didn’t realise you’d make a noise like that.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to shock me like that.”

    The sky outside flashed, and he quickly averted his gaze away from it. Thunder comes next.

“So how come you’re awake at this time?” Marco asked with a quizzical look upon his face.

Jean shook his head.

“I just had something on my mind.”

“Was it training? It has been rather tough recently.”

Marco kept talking about whatever he suddenly thought he could add. Jean like Marco for that reason: he could make a short statement into a full debate on a deep matter in the space of a few minutes. It definitely distracted him from the storm outside.

“So anyway, what was I talking about originally?” Marco asked him.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down.

Body language does give everything away, so it seemed. Marco noticed his actions and tilted his head to the side.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

    Jean was about to shake his head and to tell Marco it was nothing, when the thunder struck again. The bang came from right above him. He yelped and threw himself into Marco’s shoulder. His friend quickly wrapped his arms around him and held him close as Jean sobbed into his shoulder. His freckled friend whispered soft and comforting words to him.

“I’m not afraid,” Jean stuttered. “I’m not weak.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”

Jean sat up for a moment and looked Marco in the eyes.

“Being afraid of thunder is really stupid though.”

“Not really, Jean. Fish terrify me.”

“Fish?”

“Fish. I can’t stand them.”

Jean smirked, and gave out a little laugh. Marco’s smile glowed with warmth since he knew he’d made his friend feel better.

“You’re actually afraid of fish?”

“It’s not funny!” he joked, pouting. “I can’t stand the way they look at me and the way they’re just--” He shivered. “No fish for me.”

    Lightning flashed outside, and Jean looked helplessly back to Marco. He hated it when the weather was stubborn and remained stormy overnight.

“Marco, this will sound quite weird so I’m just saying it now: will you please sleep in my bed tonight?” Jean said, looking down blushing.

His friend smiled, his cheeks also reddened, and nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better.”

    Jean crawled underneath his covers and Marco followed in pursuit, lying against his friend. The former smiled to himself; Jean had also felt more comfortable with his best friend at his side, and now was a time he appreciated the company more than ever.

    Marco’s hand tenderly touched Jean’s, and soon they were intertwined. Best friends? Definitely. But their relationship seemed much closer than that at times. What Jean and Marco had was special, and no one could compete to have such a great companion in life.