"I remember when I was in his class he-"
"Then after that, he gave me two weeks detention!" Connie exclaimed in disbelief to the others sat around the cafeteria table.
"Yeah, he's awful for that. Once-"
"For two weeks?! That's nothing." Sasha had interrupted, shaking her head at Connie. "Mister Ackerman usually gives me at least four."
"He gav-"
"Yeah, well that's cause you're way worse than me, Sasha." Connie reminded.
Floch opened his mouth once more but was hit with the realisation that not a single person was listening to him. He gulped down any emotion daring to crawl up his throat, his gaze shifting awkwardly to the table. It'd be stupid to get upset over something so small, he thought. Instead he decided to shut up and listen.
He didn't think a single eye looked his way for minutes, no one sparing him a glance. Perhaps he wasn't worth a glance, it was too much of an inconvenience for the others to waste their time on. Armin and Mikasa were fussing over Eren, listening to him like he had all the wisdom in the world.
Sasha and Connie just spoke rubbish majority of the time, inside jokes that Floch would NEVER get. He wasn't invited to the parties or the gatherings, he didn't know what stupid thing they were referring to.
He doubted they liked him. A lot. It was constantly on his mind, but he just couldn't help talk to them. God, Floch was self aware how pathetic he was. How pathetic it was to cling to somewhere he didn't belong, latch onto people who could never give a shit about him.
If only he had the self control to just leave, to have just a shred of dignity for himself. But God forbid that, because just maybe fake friendships and unwanted company was better than the bitter feeling of loneliness that would climb upon him. That'd push him onto the ground, preventing him from even leaving his bed for days. Except for the necessities, of course.
Floch wished now that the ground would swallow him up whole, to take him completely from the world. Hell, even if he vanished from existence completely he didn't think he'd mind. If he didn't even happen in the first place.
Tears pricked at his eyes at these thoughts, not realising he drifted off for a while. Nobody noticed, obviously. Maybe they did notice but didn't say anything, because yet again it was too much of a burden to acknowledge his feelings than just leave him to dwell. Floch didn't want to think which option it might be.
Taking a shaky breath, Floch decided to pack up his tray and head away. Before he did so, he heard a voice. A melodic, angelic voice that made his heart begin to beat faster. But not in a bad way. The redhead turned, seeing the other classmate.
"Hey Jean!" Armin had called, noticing the blond. "Come sit."
He did, right next to Floch. The upset teen tried his best to seem alright, a smile on his face at the sight of Jean. He didn't think heroes were the ones on the screen that saved old ladies from burning buildings and prevented world destruction. It wasn't men in their twenties in capes and tights way too tight. Heroes weren't brave and fearless and invincible.
Sometimes, heroes took the form of just another average teenager. Just because they weren't flying around or famous didn't mean they weren't saving lives. Saving a life. Their significant actions seemed like the most insignificant things.
It was a smile and a wave as they walked past, distracting you from the idea that you shouldn't bother interacting with anyone. That friendships were pointless because they had always been inconsistent. Everyone had came and went.
Instead of swooping in to fight the bad guy, it was making cheap pizza at 1am while singing stupid songs about guns and sex. It was the laughing and the grinning and the raw happiness. Jean didn't help fight villains, but he helped Floch battle something.
"You okay?" Jean asked, waving his hand in front of Floch. "Do you want to go outside?" He whispered, not wanting to embarrass the redhead. The knitted brows and teary hazel eyes told Jean that something wasn't right. He knew Floch long enough to suss these things out.
After accepting Jean's offer and subtly leaving- not that Floch thought anyone would care anyway- they were both sat on a brick wall on the outside of the school. It was behind the large, old building out of the way from everyone. No one was around, which was perfect for Floch. He wanted peace and quiet, especially if he was going to get interrogated by Jean.
"You seem upset." Jean pointed out, his voice sounding concerned. Floch would feel guilty about worrying his friend if he wasn't so desperate for the attention.
"Yeah, it's not a big deal." It did feel like a big deal a lot of the time, the constant self-doubt took over his life. Floch could never lie for long though, not to Jean.
"It's just," he paused, feeling the same bubbly feeling from earlier. He ignored the knot in his throat, just praying he didn't start to cry. "I feel so a-alone sometimes. I'm not alone, but what if I am one day? What if I annoy you so much you leave, or start acting like everyone else?"
It was absolutely no mystery to Jean about the others' behaviour. He knew they took a disliking to Floch, but kept him around anyway. He hated how they ignored him, Jean wondered if they were even aware of doing it. Truly aware, like they knew how badly they affected the redhead.
"You can only really take my word for it, but I swear I won't leave you." Jean responded, smiling sadly at Floch. "You're my best friend. Floch." He reminded, his hand moving to squeeze the other's shoulder comfortingly.
That appeared to be the last straw for Floch. He let out a trembly wheeze, his hands clutching his face in an attempt to hide the state he was in. "Shit, I-I'm sorry." He whispered out, the first thing coming to his head was to apologise. He hated appearing so weak.
Jean wasn't bothered at all, though. He wrapped his long arms around the other, pulling him close. He felt the side of Floch's face against his chest, tears staining it. He sighed deeply, one hand stroking his hair while the other stayed tightly around him.
"Don't be. Just let it out. It's fine." He reassured, his chin propping itself on Floch's head. The crying male seemed to calm down, just staring at the hills in the distance as he let his hands drop to his side. If it wasn't for his hysteria then he'd be blushing like an idiot right now.
Neither moved for a while, even when the bell for lunchtime to be over went. The soft clouds in the sky continued to pass over, covering the sun that was beating down on the two figures on the brick wall.
Jean Kirstein was no Superman, but he was a hero. A hero in every way a hero could be to Floch. It may not seem morally right for Floch to give such credit to someone when there was literal people out there risking their life every day.
But Floch had been saved. He had been guided from the burning building, he had been pulled from the grasps of the demons that wanted him dead.
Without that hero, Floch knew he'd be nothing.
