Shingeki No Oneshots

JeanxReader ~Ironic~

JeanxReader

Modern AU

||Ironic||

Warning: Themes containing drug use are present

••

"What's your favorite color?"

My mind is swimming, and it's not delicately. Waves crash together endlessly, creating strong noises when it meets with a rock. My brain feels like the rocks in the ocean, the ocean with the waves flying back in forth, the ocean that– with its larger waves– causes the eroding process to quicken its pace toward the sand and rocks.

I hope he feels the same way, I hope he knows how I'm feeling. I'm not as far off as he is, in fact, I'm probably sobering up. But I hope he feels that ocean crashing in his head.

He ponders, placing his cigarette on the night stand so it nearly rolls off the wooden table.

"Hm," a single finger is brought up to his thin lips. He scratches his non-existence beard, however he is growing a little stubble. "Blue? Maybe. Hands down. I like orange too," he smiles at himself, knowing he's not able to decide. "When people ask others their favorite color, they shouldn't ask 'favorite'. They should ask 'least favorite' because there's so many colors to like, you know?"

My lips curl into a small smile. I nod, showing him my understanding.

Thinking about it, it is quite difficult for most to just pick one color, right? There's people who pick certain shades and some who don't consider black or white colors, but there's still so many.

There's red, which might remind you of a red firefighter truck that blares throughout the night if a house fire occurs. Red, like when you go into the fields to pick strawberries so later, you can create an angel food cake. Red, like when you buy a Coca-Cola can and enjoy it thoroughly, the sharp intake of carbonation burning down your throat in quick, icy gulps and feeling the sugars pick at your enamel as the left over tastes sits on your teeth.

There's yellow, which might remind most of the big ball of gas above us, sustaining life for us all. Yellow, as in the sand on the beach that tickles your body underneath as your friend drowns you in it. Yellow, as in the fruit that was placed beneath 3 scoops of ice cream and sprinkles, known as a banana split. Yellow as in hosting a bon-fire, and sitting in the lawn chair not too far from the heat as the flames cackle and spurt when a piece of wood is placed inside.

There's blue, which might remind most of the sky, the oh so beautiful sky that most may not be able to answer why it is blue in the first place. The sky may turn many types of blue depending on the weather, and with the blue sky, the ocean changes as well. Blue might be the ocean when it rides over you, blue then surrounding as you go underneath, it choking you in an almost blissful way.

I place fingers in my messy [untraditional color] hair. The color is beginning to fade, my [hair color] roots taking place above as it falls into the bleached part, showing yellow, then into the [untraditional color].

"Redye your hair, yeah?" I hear him mumble from across the room. I look up, my eyes adjusting to his slumped figure with a cigarette in one hand and grinder in the other across the room.

I watch as he carefully opens the ziplock bag next to him, removing a small nug with a stem from within the bag. He holds it up, as if it's a victory piece.

"Bong, pipe, or blunt?" He simply asks me, his pupils enlarging and dilating over and over again.

I shrug and shake my head sloppily and simultaneously. "I don't mind," I slur. "Which ever."