To My Duke, Dearest| j. kirschtein

xv. Midsummer Madness

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶: 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹

𝐓𝐰: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

~~~ 

That summer descended upon Jean like a fever. It constricted his awareness, filled his mind with fluffy clouds of lethargy. In fact, that summer enveloped the entirety of Trost into its sleepy delusion, cloaking the kingdom in one, hot, lackadaisical exhale. Farmers were retiring before noon, fearing for possible heatstroke in the visible waves of heat that emitted from their crops. Town criers shouted warnings from the clock tower rooftops, warning citizens to stay indoors. Merchants closed their stalls, afraid that perhaps the onslaught of sunlight would spoil their scams. Little girls and boys rushed in and out of the rivers without a single care in the world.

Similarly, idling in the pond was where Jean had just returned from. The droplets of water against his sun-kissed skin dried in the outdoors, away from the shelter of the lake. He had proposed heading away from court, finding a proper river or coast to frolick in, but his supervisors had forebade it. Truly, it was a surprise that he had been been allowed out of his own bedroom. His honeyed eyes were half-shut with heaviness, the weight of a weightless summer upon his shoulders, causing his hair to dampen with sweat before the water within it even evapourated.

Above, the sun gifted him another smile back, forcing the air around him to stale and become stiff, the little luxury of a tickling breeze stifling, returning the feelings of suffocation that had possessed him before he dipped into the lake. All the sun knew was warmth and brightness, it did not understand that there was an occasion for light, moments for dark. It was attempting to make those around them happy in the only way it could, which was the main thing that was causing everybody harm.

Internally, Jean forgave its ignorance, it was so distant from the human world; a ghostly stranger on the outwards looking in. What if it was simply attempting to socialise, simply trying to build connection, trying to understand what simply made a human well...human? He stretched his long fingers upwards, fingers cutting through the air that was stagnant once more, releasing a breath of exhaustion. The insides of his mouth were as dry as stone-baked bread and if he was suffering so greatly, he wondered how the horse that was carrying him was fairing.

Jean had made sure to allow his steed to rest whilst he floated above the waters. It had sat down, nestled in the grass, its glossy eyes observing him like a dutiful father. Gently, he brushed his fingers tips against its mane, lips humming the next few chords of a harmony he was working on during those restless summer nights. Obnoxious chewing then drew him from his personal ponderings as he turned to his noisy companion.

The horse besides him rocked unsteadily as their rider gave no concern, not even bothering to properly hold the reins. Like Jean, his companion reached upwards, but only to twist and turn crisp leaves from their branches and let them scatter to the ground. In his other callused hand, he held a pear, the sweet juice staining his lips as the sweet juice dribbled down his chin. Instead of looking for a napkin or kerchief, he simply dragged his bare forearm over his thick lips.

Eren Jaeger ran his mouth like an elderly folk who presented stories of their youth, but truly he was nothing but an over-grown child. Jean had always been confused as to how the boy even became associated with his family. Supposedly, it happened before he could even write his own name. His parents had been apparently travelling through the rural areas and found an orphan that they had become particularly fond of. Before he knew it, the boy had been gifted his own seat in court. Not exactly an adoption, but a form of re-housing Jean decided.