”One… two… three…four” the days usually started out all the same. Jean would lay facing towards the freckled sleeping boy next to him. Every single freckle was different, tiny and big it didn’t matter all of them belonged to Marco, which also meant it belonged to Jean as well. The long lashes black as the sea never seen with his own eyes, would always flutter but never open. The soft rise and fall of Marcos chest was the only give away that he was still alive. Jean would fall into the rhythm of his breathing, each rise Jean felt; each fall Jean felt. The pink lips that would so sweetly brush against Jeans own, it was slow and at times painfully measured to keep Jean in his place. He would never admit it, but they were his favourite. Rough and passionate kisses were always quick and deliberate.

With every passing day new bruises would form on his body, scars that would fade but never disappear. Lines drawn on his face, telling Jean they were okay and still breathing. The hours that they could both stay like this, in an abyss of reality grew shorter and shorter with each waking moment. Slowly becoming days scrambled into weeks of not holding one another. Jean could feel the red twine that connected them both tease and fray. However, it was always unbroken.

The moments of clarity were the worst. Seeing the future right in front of them, death, heartbreak and melancholy were the signs that were on the highway of their lives. Yet it never broke them.  The infrequent glances and god forbid touches created the bond they had, to grow stronger.

 Absence makes the heart grow fonder… right?

Training became harder and more difficult the aching left behind kept many people away, curled inside the sheets of their firm and disgustingly uncomfortable beds. Yet Jean and Marco would always sneak out to stare at the bright moon that shone only on them. The tree would be the one true place they could call home. Lying between the soft grass and pretty flowers was their bed. The moon was the lighting and they were the two living things amongst it all. The sun would rise once again and the day would begin again.

The death and destruction of humanity.

The seasons would change and the tree would never transform, leaves stayed put only dropping when the wind would throw a gust with more power to it. The one thing that wouldn’t change was theirs. M and J marked the tree; a love heart enclosed the letters that might have been in fear of bursting through the seams otherwise.

The day came with so much force. Eren became the only power humanity had against the titans. The plan was simple and yet was the most difficult thing the young, inexperienced group had ever tried to achieve. The day started off as all the days would.

The tree; their bodies, the love and the moon smiling brightly across the green grass.  

However, Jean could feel the day change, it wasn’t sunny, the wind was hard and the air didn’t feel right. Each breath took effort and was constricted, never feeling like it was truly satisfying and gave the oxygen Jean needed so badly.

Jean knew it was the task ahead that changed everything.

He didn’t realise how much it would actually change.

The blood, the death and tears soaked the earth. Each new body, told humanity that the battle was being ripped from their gasp.

And yet Jean stood there fighting, winning and breathing because at the end of the day; a warm, beautiful and freckle faced boy would be standing next to him.

But.

Things don’t always turn out the way you want them too.

After all.

The days began quietly and coldly it was strenuous and full of pain to wake up in the mornings.           

The warmth once felt was lost. The hours dragged on with no light at the end of the day.

Seeing the leaves slowly fall showed the signs of aging the tree once never admitted to having. It seemed that while Jean was dying from the inside, so was the only reminder of his love. The tree once showered in the colour of auburn withered and turned grey. The grass surrounding the area died off as well.  The tree that held the badly engraved M & J disappeared. The hands that pushed the knife in and out were lost and so was the last thing he touched.

The memories stayed, waking him and forcing the reality straight into his face. Nothing was going to bring joy into his life. The happiness that filled his days was long lost and it would never be gained back.

See all scars don’t fade, they are stuck; never improving… never healing.