Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐖𝐂: 𝟑.𝟏𝐊
°∴,*⋅✲══〖➹〗══✲⋅*,∴°
Game breaks are practically a blessing after giving your all on the court— well, they usually are most times. Though, when you're the cause of a point loss for your team like Jean Kirschtein, they aren't all that much to look forward to.
Especially when the coach is shooting the sharpest eye-daggers right at him.
The buzzer's blare signals for yet another game break. The opposing team, Warriors from Liberio University, had a lesser sum of points in comparison to the Scouts, but they sure were catching up.
All Stohess players come into a huddle, the tall young men having to crouch down to the height level of their basketball instructor, Coach Ackerman. He's clad in a fitting black polo shirt, inky black bangs framing his face, that of which held the stiffest expression.
"The hell was that out there, Kirschtein?" Coach Levi roughly snaps, and Jean just knows he's in trouble. "M'sorry, Coach... Got distracted." The brunette male murmurs, but it's clear that his excuse simply isn't enough. Not for Levi Ackerman, at least.
"Listen," pressing his fingers along his temple and rubbing a hand over his steely eyes, Levi exhales. "You might just be the temporary captain while Jaeger's gone, but I expect you to play like you've been leadin' this team all your damn life. Understand me?"
Jean goes tight-lipped and emits a huff, while Levi, Connie, and the whole lot of Stohess Scouts await their makeshift captain's answer. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Coach." Jean replies impassionately, but a rather begrudging undertone is still heard in his voice. He's here in this gym in a physical sense, but not mentally. Instead, he's dazed over you like he always is.
Jean uses his forearm to wipe the sheen layer of sweat off of his forehead before peering behind his shoulder for the umpteenth time, and Eren's finally alone on those uninhabited bleachers, teal eyes zoning in on the phone in his palm instead of making conversation with you, who was seemingly elsewhere. The brunette instantly grows relieved— he isn't the type to act out in a fit of possessiveness, but you're his best friend, after all.
