Mistletoe [JeanMarco]

Mistletoe

Jean was convinced that he hated everything. Everything was pointless, and everyone was stupid. No one understood. Well, apart from him . He wasn’t quite sure what he was, but he wasn’t like the rest.

   It was Christmas day - a pointless celebration of showing love and kindness to friends and family. Why they celebrated it instead of training, Jean did not know. Frankly, he’d rather be doing tough training than having to watch Eren’s smug face across the table as he sat next to Mikasa. God, she was hot.

   All the trainees sat at the table, eating more food than most of them had ever seen, but that wasn’t the point. Jean felt lonely. Everyone had a friend to be kind to them; he didn’t have a single one. He grimly ate a scrap of turkey, glancing around at the table. Yes, everyone had a friend.

   Beside him sat Sasha who was eating literally all of the food, he didn’t particularly want to interrupt her, and Marco who was merrily talking to Armin who was beside him.

   Marco was different. He was that individual who was so different from the rest. Jean didn’t believe anyone wanted to be kind to him, but Marco proved him wrong. Normally, Marco would join his side after quarrels to keep him sane rather than whoever else was involved.

Today was different. He hadn’t paid any attention to him yet and honestly, it hurt Jean. Marco was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had and he respected him for that. But today it was almost as if he was ignoring him. Almost.


After dinner, everyone dispersed to places around the room where gift-giving began. Of course, the gifts weren’t much due to rations and that none of them owned that much money, but it was the thought that counted.

Jean sat in the corner of the room, thinking to himself. He noticed in his thoughts that Marco stood away from everyone else, not paying any of them any attention. That struck Jean as weird since Marco was usually so sociable with everyone.

He looked rather spaced out and was holding a small gift in his freckled hands. Jean shrugged and got up from his seat, wandering over to Marco.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked cautiously.

Marco nodded, smiling.

   “Yeah, I was just daydreaming. By the way,” he added. “This gift is for you.”

   “Me?”

   “That’s kind of why I said it,” he chuckled.

He handed Jean the present, and the latter unwrapped it. Inside the paper was a carved wooden horse with a small ‘M’ on its back left leg.

   “You… you made this?”

   “There wasn’t really much else for me to do so I--”

Jean stopped Marco’s words and hugged him tenderly. His cheeks were warm and his heart felt so too.

   “I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

   “No problem.”

Marco stepped back from him, smiling. Jean looked down nervously, realising he hadn’t actually got anyone a present. Stuffing his left hand in his pocket, he felt a smooth pebble. He’d picked it up a few weeks earlier when someone had thrown it at him. He handed it to Marco, smiling slightly.

   “This is all I have to give you, but this was thrown at me not too long ago. After that, you didn’t rest until you found out who’d done it and told them how dangerous their actions were. I really appreciate all you do for me, and this is my way of showing it to you.”

   Marco blushed and took the pebble.

   “It has so much meaning to it… thanks.”

   Across the room, Jean heard laughing and he turned to see what exactly was going on. It was Connie, who seemed to be laughing at Jean and Marco. He was pointing above them, and Sasha giggled when she too looked above them.

   Jean nudged Marco, who turned to see the same thing. Marco looked up cautiously and quickly looked back to Jean. He too looked up and was faced with the sight of the white-berried plant hanging above their heads. Mistletoe.

   He looked back to Marco who was bright red. Jean probably looked the same way right now.

   “We don’t have to--” Jean started.

   “Tradition says otherwise.”

   “Not if you don’t want to.”

   “I don’t mind.”

   “Me neither,” Jean muttered.

   More people around the room had noticed and were watching expectantly. Jean shrugged, put his hand behind Marco’s head and quickly kissed him. It wasn’t long but made both of them feel something. Was it love? Who knew? It was Christmas, so it didn’t bother either of them at that moment.