Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
warnings: angst, nsfw content
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
❝well don't you sit in front of me, and wait for me to talk❞
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Soon, he was all cleaned up, sitting loosely on your bed, without saying much to you.
"It was stupid of you, to get into such a state the night before humanity's biggest mission. I hope you realise that," you berated him, putting the cloth in the sink to let it wash.
He needed to be in a good way for tomorrow - you didn't want anything to happen to him.
Jean glanced up at you with a look of annoyance.
"Tch. And why do you care? I thought you made it clear to me that that's not the case," he spat, his words a little slurred.
"You know I do," you protested, hurt.
"Then why don't you ever show it? All I do, I do it for you, don't you get it? All you do is push me away."
Jean stood up from where he was sat, the frustration now obvious on his face, as he approached you, his tall figure towering over yours.
"Jean, what's got into you?"
"You have, y/n! For fucks sake. Do I have to spell it out for you?" he began to shout, each word louder than the last.
"If you don't stop this-" You lowered your voice and shoved him backward, making him crash into your bedframe.
Your lips formed an 'o' shape, shocked that you would ever hurt him. Jean caught his balance, and your eyes met again, at first bitter, but then both softening apologetically.
Elisha's words echoed through your head.
"With the way that the next few days might go... I would enjoy this night while you can, with him."
You stared the man in front of you down. He was approaching you again, this time slower and calmer, a look so disappointed with himself.
This was a stupid fight. A stupid dumb drunk fight.
Long fawn hair, soft-looking, and honey eyes you adored, even if he was a drunken mess. Truly, he never wanted to be anything more than gentle.
