In Silence We Speak

I.

Arrogance didn’t become him well, Marco thought as he watched Jean boast about his performance during training today. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand listening to his exaggerated tale, smiling knowingly. It was hard to distinguish Jean’s angry from his nervous expression. Marco knew the difference well; how Jean’s brow furrowed slightly less, how he’d clench and unclench his clammy hands and pocketed them rather than punching someone. The most apparent difference was the look in his eyes.

Jean lifted his head, eyes searching not for their instructor’s but Marco’s.

On the other side of the training grounds, standing quietly and observing Jean as usual, Marco showed him a smile. His large eyes were filled with excitement for his new achievement though he was not blind to the hesitation in Jean’s. Noticing the man gazing at him, Marco raised his hand as he always would when the other needed a little reassurance, a little praising.

The small motion, that short moment of acknowledgement, was enough to evaporate Jean’s anxiety. It made way for a relieved smile, one that disappeared as soon as Keith Shardis complained about his unruly behaviour.

Marco was pleased, Marco was proud. That was all Jean needed to improve.

 

II.

Despite his height, he was often forgotten.

It had become natural for Bertholdt to sit in Reiner’s company whether they talked or not. Reiner talked plenty for both of them and about them, too. Not to mention he still felt a tad embarrassed to be the centre of attention, the pressure of expectant eyes made him tense and sweat profusely. “He’s too self-conscious” Reiner explained the first few times Bertholdt stammered and stared at him like a deer in headlights. Soon they didn’t even expect him to speak anymore and Bertholdt utilized the opportunity to shy away even more.

On the contrary, Reiner seemed to enjoy their comrade’s awareness of their skills and personality, and he promised he would get used to it, but Bertholdt doubted that. Well, at least he didn’t stammer anymore whenever he did respond verbally.

The only time Bertholdt spoke freely was to either tell Reiner he was wrong or when the bulky man asked for his opinion.

“She’s cute and considerate; she’d want to take a stroll with me, right?”

Bertholdt couldn’t help but sigh. “Give up” he told Reiner bluntly.

No matter the situation, he always obliged, he just did. Reiner needed to be looked after, after all.

 

III.

They sat side by side on the porch, staring at the girls taking a stroll outside before bedtime. Marco’s eyes shifted ever so slowly, peering at the silent man beside him. Jean openly stared at Mikasa, her presence always dragging him into a daydream of some sort that Marco couldn’t understand.

“She’s pretty” Jean mumbled to himself. Marco said nothing.

The girls chattered amongst themselves, the one of his interest not saying a word though walking along as they passed. She didn’t blend in at all, Marco thought, she doesn’t even try. The freckles boy watched when the strong girl suddenly took off towards Eren in the distance.

“Tche..She’s a bit insensitive though” Jean mumbled to himself once more, wondering what had to be done to capture Mikasa’s attention. He wanted her to fuss over his well-being the way that drove Eren insane. Lucky bastard, he thought.

Marco heaved a small sigh, agreeing silently. At least the other knew his embarrassing attempts to woo her weren’t getting through one bit. Watching him every day, Marco admired Jean’s courage and determination, dismissing his lack of shame whenever he got in a brawl with Eren over Mikasa.

Straightening his back Jean stretched his arms above his head, then gave the other a small smile. He was still a bit enchanted by Mikasa’s silky smooth hair and lovely pale features, but was slowly coming back to reality.

“I’ll get her one day” he then said, not feeling ready to give up just yet.

“Eh?” Marco responded as he tore his eyes from the duo. Mikasa and Eren passed them without a sign of acknowledgement. Jean leaned in towards him. When he spoke, his voice was lowered, almost inaudible.

“I’ll make her say those words: ‘Do not leave me, how can I be happy without you?’ to me instead of that jerk” the man said with his eyes ablaze. “..What?”

Marco didn’t give an explanation for his crimson cheeks.