𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

"I'll miss them. I would never have thought two scientists would be so fun to drink with," your constant companion remarked.

"Weren't they wonderful?" you replied while fixing your gaze on the twinkling sky above. "Hange was quite eccentric at first, but they both ended up being wonderful guests."

"Are you saying you didn't like the ant-burning experiments?"

"I could have done without them, to be frank. The same goes for mosquito collecting. And the cow dissections. The yard still holds that sickening chemical smell."

"I thought it was rather charming."

"Of course, you did. You didn't have to clean up the messes once they began to cook in the sun."

"At least I offered to help with the owl pellets. Did Moblit really let you keep some of the pressed flowers he collected like he promised?"

"He did. He even had them framed in town for me. They are such beautiful pieces–easily the nicest gift I've ever received from a guest. Once they left, Niccolo hung both frames in my sewing room this afternoon."

"How sweet. Should I tell Zeke the way to your heart is dead flowers instead of those stupid little bottles my mother keeps ordering him to buy?"

"Don't say a word; I like the perfume. The nice oils can be so expensive."

"Using my brother for free oils? I can't believe you would do something so terrible after everything my family has done for you. Can you move the candle closer? I like to see you when we talk."

Grabbing the lantern handle, you set it down between you and your companion. His face was scarcely visible in the low light, but the flame sparkled in his emerald eyes and brightened his flowing dark locks that rested snuggly on your skirt.

"Do you want to hear about the next guests?" you asked the boy in your lap.

"Why else do you think I'm here?"

"To soak up my wonderful company."

"Wonderful company, eh?" You flicked the bridge of his nose with your nail. "Ow! Jesus, you're so moody at night."

"Shut up and listen. Do you remember the author I told you about? The one that Sasha and Niccolo met when they traveled to London?"

"The one you are hopelessly in love with but have never actually seen and could very well look like a troll?"

"I am not in love with him; I appreciate his talent. There is a massive difference."

"Just tell me about your crush, you crank."

"You're so rude... Well, the next guests are that author and a friend of his. They are staying until early September. Niccolo said both are close to us in age, so that could be rather exciting, don't you think? Late nights at the tavern, summer parties as a quartet... Maybe they'll even give you the courage to finally talk to a girl other than me."

"...Both are men?"

"Yes."

"And unmarried?"

"I assume so. There was no mention of wives in any letters."

"Are you sure this is something you should be excited about?"

"I don't see why not. The friend is Parisian. You know how I have always wanted to learn French. Now, I have access to a native speaker. And the author is so well accomplished despite being so young! He is practically a celebrity!"

"That makes me feel worse."

"Oh, don't worry yourself so much. We will finally have some excitement in this boring town! Hange and Moblit were just the starts of a fabulous summer!"

"But what if these men try to... I don't know... seduce you?"

"I hear that women in Europe are very beautiful. I doubt either of them would take any interest in me."

"You're the prettiest girl for miles."

"I'm the only girl for miles."

"But... You know what they say about the French. They're very forward... and persuasive."

"And there are men in town that are very forward and persuasive, but I remain untethered."

"It's different when you live a few hundred feet from them. What if one of them tries to sneak into your bedroom and–"

"Niccolo would never let that happen. He protects me like his own flesh and blood."

"Because Sasha would haunt him if he didn't." The seizing of your heart silenced any playful banter you shared with your best friend. The brunette caught on to your reaction and said, "I'm sorry, that didn't come out how I wanted it to."

"It's alright... We should head inside. The bugs are starting to nip at my ankles, and I have quite a bit of cleaning to do in the cabins tomorrow, and–"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You scoffed. "When have I ever wanted to talk about it?"

"Maybe that's the problem. You push things down much further than they need to go. Eventually, you will boil over."

"And when that day comes, you'll be the first person I come running to, but until then, let me enjoy my summer."

"...I think Zeke would be a good person to–"

"Let me enjoy my summer, Eren."

*  *  *

Thank you for reading the prologue to Summer! The rest of this story is written more traditionally with descriptions, inner monologues, and whatnot.

Just know that this story can be very fun but eventually contains depictions of grief, physical violence, and the after-effects of trauma. I will always warn at the beginning of the chapter and inside the text when more triggering scenes occur. 

This is just the beginning, so good luck.

Here's a link to my Spotify if you're interested in the songs that basically write this fic for me: 

https://open.spotify.com/user/31fpdhgpealqijsjdtv7nvixakde?si=145a34844ca94ee2