"Marco?" Jean says as he wipes his mouth dry and struggles to fumble in the dark for his shirt and blazer. You do the same as you pull your drenched dress forcefully up your body.

Marco stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. He was practically paralyzed. Not that Jean could blame him. He walked in on him and the literal Princess of Eldia about to have sex. Extremely passionate sex, if he might add. Outside to make matters worse.

He just stared at the two of you in utter disbelief. Jean knew the view was a shocker all on its own and no matter who walked in, anyone would've reacted the same way, but this was slightly worse considering Marco always had a crush on you.

"Marco." You laugh as you pull your dress up to your shoulders. You approach him by grabbing the ends of your dress so you don't trip. "You're here!"

The brunette never pulls his eyes away from Jean. "Yeah. Your parents sent me after the two of you. They were worried."

You brush away your wet hair from your face. "We're fine. We were actually just on our way home!" You spin around to face Jean. "Right?"

"Really?" Marco asks. He couldn't stop giving Jean that look. "Looks like going home was the last thing on your mind."

Jean couldn't say anything. He didn't even know how to defend himself. What was he supposed to say? Something corny like "It isn't what it looks like!"?

You stood in between them. Marco looks right past you and at Jean and Jean stares right back at him. The tension was intense.

"How did you get here so fast?" You try to change the subject. The rain had begun to slow down so it was a lot easier to see outside now, which made it only more awkward.

"I took the train." He says dryly. He then walks past you and toward Jean. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

He stands in front of his best friend now and whispers in an angry tone. "That's the princess! Do you have any idea what would happen if the king and queen were to find out?"

You meet where they stand. "Except they won't find out because you're not going to say anything, right?"

Marco finally looks at you, his appalled face softening when he meets your eyes. "Princess, I can't just-"

"Please." You hold onto his arm and Jean flinches at the sight of you touching him. He couldn't help but feel instant jealously. "Don't say anything. This is all my fault, not his."

He scoffs. "You really expect me to think Jean had nothing to do with what I just saw right now?"

Jean finally snaps. "Oh please, like you haven't daydreamed of doing the same thing for years now. I atleast acted on it."

You snap your neck toward him. "Do yourself a favor and stop talking. You're only making it worse."

Jean presses his lips shut but Marco continues. "It's one thing to daydream and another to actually do it. Even I'm not that stupid."

"No," Jean's invisible zipper on his lips rips apart. "Instead you just give her flowers on her birthday and watch her from afar like a stalker."

Marco was visibly getting agitated. "Are you seriously comparing flowers to shoving your tongue down her throat?"

Your mouth drops open. "Hello! I'm right here!"

They ignore you completely. It was an odd feeling. Jean had missed his best friend, he couldn't deny that. He thought that once he saw him again, he'd feel relief. Yet, all he felt right now was anger.

Jean steps forward, moving you out of his way and you stumble back as your heel gets caught in the wet tool around your legs. "So what's going to happen, Marco? You going to tell on me? Get me sentenced to death?"

Marco's annoyed expression mixes with confusion. "Why would I want that?"

"So then you're not going to say anything?" Jean asks.

Marco looks at his best friend and then back at you, his brain contemplating his answer. His eyes then stay on you. "Did he force himself on you?"

Jean's entire body ignited into flames. Even though it was cold outside and his body was still wet from the rain, he felt like his skin was burning. "What?!"

"I have to ask!" Marco shouts back. "If you forced yourself on her, I have to say something! It doesn't matter what you are to me!"

"I didn't force myself onto her!" Jean shoves Marco back a few steps. "You should know better than anyone I would never do that!"

Marco shoves him back. "I don't know shit about you apparently! All the years of making fun of me for having a crush on her when you were the same, if not worse!"

You step in between the two boys, hands both out toward them. "Okay! That's enough!" You do a quick look around to make sure no one was secretly listening in but the party inside was still at its peak regardless of the theatrics outside.

When they settle down, you speak. "Jean didn't force himself on me. It was mutual. I wanted him to kiss me." You confess toward Marco.

Marco stares into your eyes like he's trying to read deeper into your words and in between the lines. He still seemed skeptical and more than anything, incredibly nervous. Jean could tell he had no idea what the right thing to do was.

You never look away from Marco's eyes. "I asked Jean to kiss me. I shouldn't have but I did. I'm engaged and still did it. If anyone should be in trouble, it's me. I'm the one who ran away, I'm the one who manipulated everyone into sending Jean after me, I'm the one who convinced him to stay with me when he found me instead of taking him home, and I'm the one who made him come to this ball with me."

Jean watches as you take a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering shut for just a brief moment. "Yes, he kissed me but only because I asked him to. He had a moment of weakness. He's been drinking so he's not in his right mind. That's all it was." When you say that last part, your voice aches.

You turn to look back at him, eyes as full as the moon above. "Right, Jean?"

He didn't want you to take the fall for it, especially when there were some parts of your story that weren't true. Yes, you asked him to kiss you but that was weeks ago and he had done it willingly several times after that. The two of you had done a lot more than just kissing since then.

But did he really have any other choice? If he took the fall, he'd get punished for it no matter what. Best case scenario, he'd just get a slap on the wrist and lose his job. Worst case, he'd lose his life.

Would your parents stoop to that level? Would they truly sentence someone to death that they watched grow up for years alongside their own children? Someone they saw as family?

He thought maybe they'd make an exception for him but he didn't know if that was truly possible or just what he wanted to believe.

The best thing he could think of was to let you take the fall. Your parents were already used to your advantageous behavior. They would most likely give you a lecture and claim they're disappointed but if anything, they'd just be happy you're home.

As for your marriage, considering they were under the impression that it was just a impulsive kiss in the heat of the moment, they probably wouldn't mention it to Phoenix and his family. Especially because they wouldn't want anything to disrupt the wedding.

When it came down to it, you would get away with it a lot better than he would. Again, how you managed to come out of everything unscathed truly baffled him.

"Right." He says, his chest aching as he does.

Marco finally breaks away from you and looks at his friend. His eyes were sad like he knew that wasn't the real story but he had no other choice but to believe it. He could tell by the way you both looked like it hurt you more to say a fake story than the real one.

"Okay." He gives in. "If you say that's what happened, I have no choice but to take your word for it."

You sigh with relief. "Thank you." You look back at the castle and you watch as people dance with smiles so wide that you can see it from where you stand. Jean could see you yearning for the party like you didn't want the night to be over, contrary to what you were saying just a few moments ago.

You turn back to the two boys. "I'm ready to go home." Jean squats down to pick up his abandoned mask that was soaking in a shallow puddle. The brand new accessory was now stained brown from the mud. It was painful symbol of how the night was truly over.

Marco begins to lead the two of you out of the rose garden. "I have train vouchers for us. Your parents want you to get home as soon as possible so they told me to get you on the quickest one. They also wanted me to tell you that you don't have a choice in the matter."

He looks back at you, genuinely apologetic. "Sorry, Princess."

You smile weakly as you follow behind him. "It's okay. I understand."

He walks slower to walk beside you. "Did you have fun? Did you enjoy your little bit of freedom?"

Your smile becomes more realistic. "I did actually. It was worth whatever hell I'm going to get put through when I get home." You laugh.

He smiles at you, happy that you at least got to enjoy yourself even a little. "It won't be too bad. I think they'll just be happy you're safe and back home."

Jean walks behind the two of you, his steps much slower than yours and Marco's. It was like his mind subconsciously wanted the moment to last longer so it slowed his body down to make time slow down as well.

He watches as you and Marco smile and laugh beside each other. He felt incredibly stupid. He felt guilty, ashamed and most of all, disappointed. He confessed his love to you and got slapped with reality all within the same hour.

The worst part is that you didn't look nearly as miserable as he did. You were smiling as if nothing was wrong. Almost like you were happy all of this was finally over.

He had trouble telling if it was actually how you felt or if you were pretending in order to protect him. Either way, you were damn good at it.

Even though he knew you would never let anything bad happen to him, he couldn't shake off the feeling he had creeping up behind him.

It almost like someone was watching him or walking right behind him but when he looked around, there wasn't anyone in sight.

You both managed to convince Marco but there was no telling that everyone else was going to be as gullible. Especially your parents who didn't play around when it came to that sort of thing.

[play dark red by steve lacy]

Anxiety did somersaults in his chest cavity. He was tugging uncomfortably at his sleeves because it felt like the clothes suddenly became ten times smaller and started to suffocate him. Even though he was outside surrounded by trees, it felt like there was no oxygen in sight.

He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was going to happen. His gut was practically screaming at him trying to warn him. But what was it?

Was something going to happen at the castle back home? Were they going to see right through your lies and punish him? Or were they not even going to want to hear a word and head straight toward punishment?

Or was something going to happen before you even make it there? It all seemed too easy. There was no way it was this simple. It was too good to be true.

It was foolish of him to believe he'd get away with all of this scot free. He wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to these things. He knew karma would soon punish him for all the things he did. He was well aware but in the moment when they were happening, he just didn't care.

But then it hits him. As he watches you walk in front of him, never even bothering to look back at him, he realizes what it is. He lost. He swallowed his pride and poured his heart out to you and it was all for nothing.

His punishment was this. He'd grown so painfully attached to you only to have you ripped brutally from his fingertips, blood seeping from his nails as he tries to hold on.

He wanted to reach out for you. He could if he wanted to considering you were just an arm's length away. So close, yet so painfully far.

He hated the view of you walking away from him. He hated seeing you walk alongside someone who wasn't him.

The more the two of you walked away from Historia's castle, the more he felt he was losing you. His bright, colorful world began to lose all its color and it became lifeless and gray with every step.

He didn't want to leave. As much as he missed home, he knew going back meant this, whatever this was, was over. He had to return you back to your world. Your world where he seemed to forget he didn't belong to. Regardless of the clothes he was currently wearing.

His steps grow slower and slower and you only get further and further. Your laugh fading in the distance and your smile becoming harder to see as you pass the shade of the night sky.

I'm losing her. Right before my very eyes.

He didn't understand how the two of you went from being inseparable to you not even looking in his direction. It was as if he no longer existed. Like now that you got what you wanted, you no longer had use for him.

Was it all fake from the beginning? The memories, the laughs, the time spent alone. Did he really allow himself to get caught up in a maladaptive daydream? Had it been one sided this entire time?

That's when suddenly, you look back at him and when you notice he's a few feet behind, you slow your pace and allow Marco to walk ahead. When you meet Jean's eyes, you smile sweetly at him.

Your smile sends a wave of reassurance toward him. He feels your hand reach for his and your fingers clutch tightly together while Marco looks at his map.

He was overthinking it. His mind was playing evil tricks on him, forcing him to believe you would do something like use him or disregard all he said to you as if it were nothing.

It was all in his head. You were still here. Walking right by him, hand and hand. Smiling at him and looking at him with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

As soon as the bad thoughts begin to melt away in sight of your radiant warmth, you release his hand the second Marco turns around.

You walk ahead, in front of Jean and behind Marco, mediating in between to keep the peace. The moment you stray away from him, the bad thoughts resurface again.

He knew this only meant you had his side in private but when it came to having eyes on you, you had to do otherwise. He was a fool to believe it was going to be any other way.

All his efforts, all his time, all the words he conjured the courage to say, all of it was for nothing. No matter what he did, the game was rigged from the beginning. He was destined to lose.

Now he had to return home and watch you marry someone else who didn't try nearly as hard as he did. It was that or telling your parents the truth.

He could say he loved you and that he knew you loved him. He could say he'd cherish you forever and spend his entire life looking after you and giving you the life you deserve. He could go on and on for hours about how there was no one else for him in this world besides you.

But there was no point. The optimist in him wanted to believe they'd understand and make an exception for his status and allow you to marry him. The realistic part of him kept him humble and reminded him that this wasn't some story book ending where he slays the dragon and saves the princess. If he confesses, he practically signs his own death sentence.

He wasn't sure if he could do it. He didn't think he'd be able to return home and hide his feelings. Not after everything. Not after he knew for a fact that he'd never feel this way for anyone ever again.

He didn't want to accept defeat. It wasn't in him to do so. He was a winner. Competitive through and through. He didn't want to lose to someone who only won because he happened to be born into the right family. He refused to admit he lost to someone who barely came to know you, compared to him, who has been looking after you your whole life.

Before he knew it, the two of you were back at the cabin packing your bags as Marco stood idly by the door and ensured he had everything he needed himself. You also both change out of your expensive attire and into more comfortable clothes.

After you both finish, you express your concern about the horses considering you couldn't take them on the train with you but Marco reassures that your parents would arrange for someone to come retrieve them from the train station.

As you leave the cabin behind, Jean looks back at it one last time. His mind shows him flashes of all the little memories you had made in the same temporary home. Even though it was breaking his heart to leave it behind, he smiles as he thinks of every moment spent there.

The way to the train station was an interesting one to say the least. It was quiet for the most part except for the parts where Marco would randomly point at something to spark a conversation. Other than that, it was painfully awkward.

When you arrive at the train station, it almost looks abandoned. Considering it was the middle of the night, it didn't surprise him there was no one around.

There was a few other people sitting on benches and awaiting their trains. There was an older couple to his right that was practically half asleep, a lonesome man reading a book with his back up against the wall, and a woman with her child sound asleep on her lap.

Jean turns his head toward a nearby clock that shockingly read 2:16 am. He couldn't believe it was that late already.

Marco walks over to the ticket booth and asks for the soonest train possible. You stand in front of a post that had all the destinations that the trains at this station could depart to. You stay in front of the list for a good while, reading all the different locations and not saying a single word.

Almost as if it were perfectly timed, a train pulls into a station and when it comes to a stop, the conductor steps out and shouts, "Calling all passengers for train 72 traveling to Paris! Leaving at 2:30!"

The moment the man says the word Paris, you spin around to look at Jean who was giving you the exact same look. The tickets you got him where casually tucked away in the bag that was hung loosely off his shoulder.

The two of you just stare at each other as the man who was deep into his book, closes it shut and walks aboard the train. The woman carefully stands up as well, cautious to not wake up her sleeping child. The older couple does the same as they wake up from their small nap.

Everyone aboards the train minus the three of you. It took everything out of Jean to not grab you and pull you onto that train with him. He wanted to so badly and he couldn't help but to believe it was a sign from the universe to do so.

It was the perfect opportunity, divinely timed. Marco was too distracted by the ticket booth clerk to notice and there wasn't another soul in sight. If he was given a chance, this was it.

"Last call!" The conductor calls from the doors. "Doors close in five minutes!"

He doesn't pull his eyes from you and vise versa. All he wanted was one sign, one small indication that you wanted him to pull you onto that train and he would. All he needed was the go ahead.

His heart was practically racing as he waits. He waits for you to nod your head or to even tilt it in the direction of the train. Maybe you'd even mouth the words Let's go.

But instead, you shake your head slowly and turn away from him. He could feel his chest sink in with disappointment. He should've known better.

The doors to the train close shut and you return back to the post as you reread the list of cities as if you'd actually go to them. He knew you were just avoiding looking at him.

Marco finally returns back to the group. "Well, tickets are a lot cheaper in the middle of the night. We have a lot of money left over so we can get some food on the train." He then looks at the two of your grim expressions with confusion. "What's wrong?"

You speak up. "Just tired is all. When does our train depart?"

He had to admire the way you so quickly and effortlessly covered up the truth. Without hesitation, you could disguise any situation with that smile on your face that people had no choice to believe in. It was such a trustworthy face.

He then realizes you'd make the perfect villain. That sweet, innocent face could massacre a whole village and get away with it. You had the perfect cover up. The kind hearted, selfless princess who cares for everyone. If only they knew how easily she could lie.

Not to mention that even though everything you touched flourished with life, if you were caught in the wrong mood, that same touch could turn deadly.

Marco looks down at his watch. "It should be here in 30 minutes or less. It takes off at 3 am."

You sink into the bench where the older couple was previously sat at. "Well, what do you guys wanna talk about for 30 minutes?"

Marco takes a seat beside you. "Tell me about what you guys did or saw. I wanna hear everything." He says with a smile. As angry as he wanted to be with you both, he was far too excited to be reunited again.

Jean sits at the bench to the right. "Grass, trees, more grass, more trees." His body felt exhausted as he takes a seat. He felt both physically and mentally drained. He no longer had much energy to do anything, not even hold a conversation that he didn't even care to have.

"He's being vague." You glare in his direction. You then smile toward Marco. "It was beautiful. The open fields and green everlasting hills were breathtaking. There's waterfalls that are even taller than the castle back home. There's rivers that seem to go on forever."

Jean's bitterness seemed to slowly drift away as he listens to you speak with so much enthusiasm and passion. You went on and on for thirty minutes straight about how incredible everything was and if there was more time allotted, you would've went on for hours on end.

"Marley was..." You shake your head as you recall the bustling upscale kingdom. "A dream. The people were so nice and helpful. The buildings there look like towers that almost scrape the sky. It's like we travelled into the future."

You melt into yourself. "And Paradis. Paradis was..." You pause for a moment as you try to describe how you felt in the most fluid way possible. "Life changing."

"Life changing?" Marco raises his eyebrows, he was fully entranced by all your words.

You laugh. "That's the best way to put it. I can definitely say I'll never see my life the same way ever again."

Marco blinks slowly. "In a good way or bad way?"

You take a moment to respond. While you search for your words, the train loudly pulls into the hushed station, calling each of your attention.

You stand up and reach for your bags but both Marco and Jean reach for them at the same time. They stare at each other for a moment but Jean allows Marco to take them instead since he was already holding a bunch of other stuff.

You take a step into the train first and a step it was. You barely set one foot in and you pause, looking both left and right into the train car before you enter.

"Do you not know how to board a train?" Jean asks, his voice a tad bit demeaning.

You hold onto the door, hesitant to go in. That's when he realizes that you were hesitating for a reason. You were trying to convince yourself one last time that this is what you wanted to do.

"Are you alright, Princess?" Marco asks from behind you.

You're still frozen in place for a second longer and then you turn back, a fake smile stretched forcefully on your face. "All good. Just wanted to make sure no one else was in here."

Finally, all three of you abroad the train and choose one of the private rooms with sliding doors. In the room were shelves overhead to put all your belongings and underneath them was comfortable, cushioned benches.

This must've been the type of train that you had mentioned when you gave him the tickets to Paris. He could hear how you reassured him that the extensive ride would be comfortable due to the spacious seating and food service.

(if ur having trouble picturing this, just think of harry potter lol that's where i got the idea)

You take a seat to the left side of the room, closest to the window and waste no time poking your head out to look outside. Meanwhile, Jean and Marco try to shove all the belongings into the storage shelves.

Jean then takes a seat adjacent to you but at the very end, furthest away and near the wall for him to rest his head on. Marco sits parallel to the two of you. "Do you want to trade spots so you can have this whole side to yourself in case you want to lay down, Princess?"

Jean watches as your nose crinkles at the name Princess. He could tell you had gotten used to people calling you by an actual name rather than just by what you are. The disgusted face comes and goes quickly. "I'm fine, thank you."

Marco proceeds to ask you more and more questions about your adventures, his easily entertained brain eating the stories up as he imagined it all in his head.

You, of course, willingly share them all. You go into extensive detail of all the sights and the people you met. You obviously leave out the parts that Marco, or anyone for that matter, don't need to know about.

Considering he was there for all of it, he didn't care too much to hear the recap of any of it. Not to mention that it would only hurt more to relive them all. He wasn't even over the first time so he wasn't ready to go through it a second.

He rests his head on the wall and forces himself to try to get some sleep. He wanted to sleep this feeling away. Matter of fact, he wanted to sleep everything away. He now understood why Kai chose to nap over taking responsibility every time.

After a while, he could feel himself begin to doze off. The sound of your voice and Marco's began to fade away like a distant memory.

He got maybe 20 minutes of good sleep before his neck officially began to give out on him and he wakes up for a second to adjust his position.

When his brain awakens, he overhears a conversation that was much more serious than the one he heard before he fell asleep. In order to not disrupt it, he forces his cramped posture in place to play it off like he was still sleeping.

"Can I ask you something?" Marco asks.

"Sure." You answer.

There's the sound of Marco moving around in his seat like he's trying to sit up straight or lean forward to speak clearly. Since Jean had to keep his eyes closed, he didn't know which of the two it was. "I'm not going to tell anyone about what I saw but are you?" Marco asks. "I mean, are you going to tell your fiancé?"

There's a moment of silence. He wanted so badly to see the face you were making right now. Finally, you respond. "I know that I should, but it's better for him not to know. Better for everyone really. No point in ruining everything over a meaningless kiss."

The word meaningless felt like an arrow to the heart. He could physically feel the sharp pain in his chest. It hurt him to hear you say such a thing even though he knew it wasn't true. He knew it wasn't meaningless. To you or to him. You were just saying what you had to.

"Is that what it was?" Marco asks. There was some judgement in his voice. "Meaningless?"

You grow quiet again. You were most likely thinking of the right thing to say but the answer never comes.

There's the sound of Marco moving around again, the seat underneath him creaking. "If what you two say is true, and you really did ask Jean to kiss you... I really wish you hadn't. You just made everything difficult. Not just for you or for your fiancé but for Jean too."

The blatant honestly was almost enough for Jean to snap out of his act and speak up for you. He couldn't believe that Marco, someone who always thought you were an actual angel on earth, was calling you out on your shit.

"You're lucky I was the one who caught you and not someone else." He adds. "The only reason I'm keeping my mouth shut is because it's Jean and I don't want him getting in trouble."

You finally reply. "I know. I feel terrible, trust me."

The piercing sensation in Jean's heart turns into a dull ache. It hurt for his best friend who was so clearly defending him with all he could and supporting him no matter what, even though he didn't know the full story. The amount of courage it takes to speak up to someone who is not only royalty but your employer, was something not to take lightly.

But it also hurt for the girl he knew was in just as much pain. He didn't need to see your face. He heard it all in your voice.

Marco seemed to not be satisfied with your answer because he continues to pull more from you. "Why did you do it? Why did you ask him to kiss you? Do you have feelings for him?"

Your voice softens. "I do."

Now it's Marco who goes silent. He tries to regain his ground. "So then it wasn't meaningless. You love him."

It seems your patience runs thin and now there's the sound of you moving around. There's also the sound of your voice raising. "What difference does it make? We both want the best for him and we both know it's not me or anything to do with me."

Your voice becomes more commanding and prominent. "So when we get home, all three of us," You put extra emphasis on three as if you knew he was secretly listening too. "Are going to keep our mouths shut and life will carry on as usual as if nothing happened."

"Jean will remain loved and admired by everyone and you can be the hero that brought us back home and you get to keep your bestfriend." You explain.

The pain returns in your voice but you try your best not to let it waver your tone. "I'll get
married and leave to another country. I'll be
too far away to ever even hurt him again."

He opens his eyes slightly, just enough to get a peek at the scene before him. You turn your head away from Marco and toward the window. "This is the best for everyone."

Jean can see Marco just stare at you, not knowing what to say anymore. He seemed to begin to feel bad for saying anything in the first place even though he knew it was something you needed to hear.

"If it's okay with you," You turn away from the window, casually wiping your eyes as you disguise it with an itch. "I think I'm going to sleep the rest of the ride."

Marco nods and trades places with you so you can have the entire right side to yourself to lay down.

You lay your body down but before you put yourself to sleep, you pick up your head. "Oh and Marco."

He looks at you. You look right back at him. "I'm sorry if I strung you along all those years too. I used to mess with all of you because I thought it was funny. I see now that it isn't. I'm sorry it took me so long to see that."

His eyes widen as you catch him off guard. You smile gently at him and set your head back down. "Wake me up when we get there, okay?"

And just like that, you're fast asleep.

                                         ❁

Jean is awaken by the feeling of someone harshly kicking his ankle. He jumps awake and rubs at the spot with one hand while he rubs his eyes with the other. When his eyes adjust, he sees Marco towering over him. "Wake up, we're here."

Jean stands up from his seat and lifts his arms in the air as he stretches the rest of his body awake. "Did you really have to kick me?"

Marco's words then finally click together i'm his beain. "Wait! We're here?!"

Marco glares at him as he tries to carry as much of the luggage in his arms. "That's what I said." He drops one of the boxes on the ground and groans. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Sorry." Jean grumbles as he lifts the box from the ground. He then realizes you're no where in sight. "Wait, where's y/n?"

Marco sends him an icy look like a father getting onto his son. "You mean the Princess?" He reminds him. "She's in the bathroom changing. We can't risk anyone noticing her now that we're in Eldia."

As the two of them walk down the train and toward the doors, you step out from the restroom in the same red-violet cape you left Eldia in. The hood was already placed over your head. "Oh, good morning." You say jokingly as you almost hit Jean with the door.

He moves away. "Morning." All three of you step out from the train and get hit with broad daylight. It was maybe 5pm in the evening, considering the sun looked like it was bound to set soon. The train ride was 4 days long with no stops so he honestly didn't know what time it was.

He shields his eyes away from the sun. They had grown accustomed to the dim lightning on the train. When they adjust, he's hit with the realization that even though the sun was out, it didn't mean the weather was nice.

The sky was filled with grey clouds that were barely beginning to move out of the way so the sun can shine. The ground was wet and slippery like it was coated with ice and the grass was suffocated by snow. The trees were stripped naked and their feeble limbs looked like they'd snap if you barely touched them.

"Whoa." Jean breathes, his breath turning into vapor as he speaks. "What happened?"

Marco is the first to fully step off the platform. "There was a really bad snow storm. All the crops froze along with other things like pipes and lakes. It's been pretty difficult."

He looks up at the sun that was finally making an appearance after weeks of hiding behind storm clouds. "The sun seems to be happy you're home though."

You smile widely. "Not as happy as I am." You zoom past both of them, your boots sinking into the snow making it harder to run but since you didn't have anything in your arms, you definitely ran a lot quicker than they could.

They struggle to catch up to you as they try to balance all the thing they held onto. You were hopping around in the snow while holding onto the hood so it doesn't slip off.

After a few minutes of you getting impatient with their slow pace, you finally convince them to allow you to hold your fair share of things. With less weight on their shoulders, they walk more freely.

The snow eventually got softer and softer the more the three of you ventured into the Eldia. It was almost like it was melting the more you got deeper inside.

He didn't know if he was hallucinating but there was small tips of green all over the snow beginning to show. The snow was melting rapidly and grass began to poke through. The green blades were luscious and full of life as if they hadn't been missing sunlight for weeks.

The gray, lifeless trees also began to appear thicker, healthier and stronger. The brown color of them seemed to slowly return as well.

Marco seems to notice it too because he says, "Damn, I was joking at first but it looks like Eldia is really glad to have you back."

You spin in circles as you grin. "It's good to be back."

It was a good thing that everyone was holed up in their homes, taking shelter from the freeze because it meant no one was outside and the streets were empty. If they hadn't been, he knew all eyes would've been on you. How could they not be?

He watches you with a smile. Of all the places he traveled with you, you never smiled at any of them the way you did with Eldia. You clearly meant it when you said no matter what you learned about Paradis or Celestite, Eldia was forever your home in your eyes.

You looked happy to be home. Getting scolded by your parents didn't even seem to exist in your mind right now. There wasn't a single worry inside that pretty little head of yours.

The sun got lower and lower as you ventured into the town. The sky began to change colors as the sun rays lit up the fluffy clouds above.

You suddenly stop in your tracks. "Marco."

He stops too. "Yes?"

You turn around to look at both him and Jean. "I'm tired of walking. Can we stop somewhere for tonight?"

He doesn't look too convinced. "Mm, I don't know. I'm supposed to take you straight home the second you got back here."

You pout your lip and grab his arm. "Pleaseeeee. We can head over there bright and early tomorrow morning. I just want one more good night of sleep before I go back and get smothered to death."

He watches at you bat your lashes at him. He even glances at Jean for help but Jean just shrugs.

Marco sighs. "Fine." You shoot up and begin to jump in place. He then stops you. "But one night! I'm not kidding. Don't push it. I'm waking you up extra early tomorrow too."

You grin ear to ear. "Okay!"

Marco then looks around. "I guess we gotta start looking for a hotel then."

Jean adjusts some of the bags to relieve the pressure of his back. "We can't get a hotel. We can't risk her getting seen by anyone."

You shoot a finger in the air. "Oh! I have an idea! Let's stay at your mom's house!"

The two boys both snap their necks toward you. Jean knew you well enough to know you had that planned from the beginning, you just wanted to make it seem like it was someone else's idea.

"It is the best option." Jean admits. "My mom is the only one who's been around the princess so it's the safest choice."

He honestly was glad you brought up that option. He missed his mother more than he cared to admit and he honestly needed her advice more than ever right now.

Marco scratches his head as he tries to contemplate what he should do. He eventually just gives in. "Okay, you're right. That's the smartest choice we have."

You do a little dance of accomplishment and then take off in a run. "Let's go!"

Jean watches as you dart down the street and Marco turns to him. "I now see why it took you forever to find her. She never stops moving and she's surprisingly very fast." He admits.

Jean sighs as lifts up the belongings once again. "She also knows how to get her way every time no matter what you say. I've learned it's better to just let her do what she wants."

Marco laughs. "Prince Phoenix sure is gonna have his hands full with her, isn't he?"

And just like that, the smile Jean had on his face as he watches you gallop through the snow, fades away. "Yeah."

The two boys follow behind you the best they can and for someone who didn't even know for sure where she was going, you sure seemed like you did.

"Do you even know where I live?" Jean questions doubtfully.

You turn the corner onto the exact street he grew up on. "The sage house at the end of Calla Lily lane, right?"

He almost stops in place. That's exactly where he lived. How did you know? It's not like you had ever been there before. But knowing his mother, she probably told you all about it.

And then there it is, the sage house on the end of Calla Lily lane. It looked much smaller than he remembered but considering he spent most of his days in castles and luxury hotels, it didn't surprise him that his childhood home suddenly looked more humble than usual.

You stand right in front of the home with a face he couldn't quite comprehend. You looked almost nostalgic as you viewed the house, as if you were the one who used to live there and not him.

You turn to Jean and say, "This is the house you grew up in. All these years we've known each other and I've never seen it until now."

He adjusts the strap around his shoulder. "Well," He gestures to the home. "Here you go."

Your face wavers into a look of subtle discontent. You seemed so excited and he just wasn't matching your energy. Could you honestly blame him?

Jean takes an extensive breath before he knocks on the chestnut door. He was so used to just walking in or using his key but since he didn't have it on him and the door was locked, he had no other choice but to wait there awkwardly beside the two of you.

His mother answers finally and she cautiously opens the door just a few inches which gave Jean a huge sense of relief that she wasn't just swinging her door open to strangers.

When she realizes who the stranger at her door is, she immediately lights up. "My boy!" She uses incredible strength to yank him into his arms. She fights the urge to get choked up. "I was worried out of my mind!"

He wanted to pull away taking into account how embarrassing it was that his mother was smothering him in front of his lover and his bestfriend but instead, he finds immense comfort in her arms.

It was mainly because he missed her. She was the only family he had, contrary to the pack of family he discovered this past weekend. He couldn't deny he had also been worried about her since he had been gone and there was no one else to check up on her.

But there was another reason he held his mother so tightly. He was going through what felt like one of the most difficult decisions he'd ever have to make. His heart was breaking the more he inched towards the castle and it seemed like his mother's embrace took that aching sensation away for a blissful moment.

She pulls away and places both her hands on his face as she admires him. "You look as handsome as ever." She then gasps. "Wait! Were you able to find the princess?"

You step into frame and raise your hand. "He did." She practically tosses Jean aside and tackles you with a hug. "My beautiful, sweet girl. You had me scared to death."

You laugh a strained laugh as she holds you way too tightly. "I'm sorry." You say. "That was never my intention."

She pulls away and admires you as she holds onto your hands. "I know." She then looks behind you and catches a glimpse of a tall brunette behind you. "Marco?"

He steps into the light. "Hello, Ms. Kirstein. It's good to see you again. Sorry for disturbing you so late."

She does the same and embraces him with a hug. "I haven't seen you in so long! I almost thought you and Jeanboy weren't friends anymore."

The silence after that sentence was loud. She, however, doesn't catch it. "Come in! I was just about to make supper."

The three of you step in and his mother can never pull her eyes away from you. "I can't believe you're here. It's so strange seeing you in my tiny home." She then fumbles around straightening up the table and adjusting frames. "Excuse the mess."

Jean helps his mother move things from the table while Marco falls onto the couch with exhaustion and you walk around the living room, eyeing anything you could find.

"So!" Ms. Kirstein smacks her hands together. "What brings you three here?"

Jean takes a seat at the table, his elbows on the table as he rubs the side of his head. "We just got to Paradis. We're supposed to be heading to the castle but y- uh, the princess, was tired and wanted to rest for the night."

She gasps. "You just got back?! You must be starving!" She quickly swings open her pantry and begins to shuffle through all the ingredients she had. "What should I make? Pasta? Chicken?"

Marco groans from the couch that his limbs were spread out on. "I could eat anything right now."

You finally peel yourself away from scoping out the living room and bring yourself into the light of the kitchen. "Can you make that baked potato soup you used to make?"

His mother smiles. "Only if you help me."

You return a big toothy smile. "Deal!"

She looks into the pantry and then back at her son. "We may not have enough for all of us. I wasn't expecting guests. Jeanboy, the corner market should still be open. Could you stop by quickly and get some more ingredients?"

He sighs as he stands up from his seat. "Sure." For a moment, he expected you to go with him and he even sees you move like you're about to, but you stay in place. He had become so used to being by your side all the times that it felt odd to go somewhere without you.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" Marco asks, also standing up. "I could use a shower."

Jean's mother gestures toward the bathroom door. "Of course! Take all the time you need."

Marco disappears into the restroom with his belongings and Jean leaves a few moments after to the store, leaving you and his mother alone.

You remained seated at the table and you traced the place mats with your finger. Ms. Kirstein sits across from you. "It's so strange to see the two of you together."

You pick your head up. "Who? Jean and I?"

She nods. "I remember he was always attached to your brothers. I mean, they never wanted to leave each other. When you would come around, it was like he just...closed himself off. I thought maybe he was scared of you or something." She laughs off.

You giggle. "I don't blame him. My brothers probably filled his head with all sorts of things about me."

"He never truly believed them." She defends. "He was always a curious kid so he would ask me instead. I, of course, would tell him what they said wasn't true."

She looks over at a small desk nearby which proudly help frame after frame of pictures of Jean from an infant to adult.

You stand up to walk over to the desk and lift up the one of him around the age where you first met him. "And what would he say?"

She joins you by the desk and lifts up the photo of him as a infant. "He said he didn't believe them either. He never understood why they were so mean to you."

You smile as you run your thumb across the glass and over his toddler like features. "He's not as mean as he likes to pretend he is."

"Not at all." His mother cheeses. "I raised him to be kind. Sometimes, the friends he has cause him to act otherwise." She then meets your gaze. "But never with you. It was like he couldn't even if he wanted to."

You pick up another frame, this one of him around 12 years old. He had an embarrassed smile on his face in the picture and his hair was slicked back with way too much hair gel. You couldn't help but smile. "You raised him well."

She watches as you admire the boy in the photo. "You know, after the incident, he was devastated he couldn't return back to the castle but after a while, he got passed it. When he got the job to work there, he was incredibly nervous to return to see you and your family again."

You chuckle as you lift up the frame of him on his high school graduation. He smiled big beside Marco, their arms around each other and proudly holding up their diplomas. "Why would he be nervous?"

She looks at the final frame. It was a photo of Jean the day he first began working at the castle. He was fully dressed in his uniform. "He thought you four hated him."

You snort. "The boys missed him more than anything. As for me.." You set the frame down. "I never hated him. I just... envied him. He had everything I wanted. Freedom, confidence, a good relationship with my brothers."

She smiles at you, a peculiar smile at that. You look up. "What?"

She tilts her head to one of the rooms behind her. "Come, I want to show you something."

[play i hear a symphony by cody fry]

She leads you into a small bedroom that you instantly realize is Jean's old bedroom. It had Jean written all over it, decoration wise.

You walk around the room and run your hands over the dark red bed sheets. They were still fresh and clean as if she had just washed them even though he hadn't been home in months.

You figured this is what she wanted to show you but you catch her from the corner of your eye digging through his closet. She stood on her tippy toes as she reached for what looked like a box on the very top shelf.

A few things fall from the top as she brings the box down. She then brings the box to the kitchen table and you follow her.

When she removes the top, she reveals the contents of the box. There was a bunch of rolled up paintings, bound by rubber bands to hold their shape. Next to it was a rusty can that held some old, crusted paintbrushes.

She pulls each rolled sheet out of the box and rests it on the table. Based by how worn and faded the edges were of each one, you knew they were many years old. They must've been old paintings Jean did as a kid.

"He'd kill me if he knew I was showing you this." She says as she unrolls the first one regardless. You could begin to feel your heart pick up it's pace after she says that.

Holding both ends of the painting, she reveals it to you. It seems like your entire world stops the second you see what it is. "Is that...Is that me?"

It had to be. The small girl in the photo looked exactly like you but just many years ago. You were looking out a window, tiny hands holding onto the window pane as you stare in awe at something.

You had wide, childlike eyes and when you follow where they look, you see that outside the window was a bright sting of lanterns illuminating the night sky.

"Who drew this?" You ask even though you already knew the answer. You were just stunned by the fact that he made something like this.

"Jean." She reassures as she points at his scribblish attempt at an artist's signature at the right bottom corner. You could barely make out the name J. Kirstein.

You run your hand across the painting. It was done exceptionally well. The lines were a bit messy but it still such a beautiful piece of work. The colors were vivid and your facial features were so detailed. "When did he make this?"

"The same night he saw it with his own eyes." She answers. "He came home, locked himself in his room and worked for hours and hours on it. He didn't even eat dinner that night."

You scoff a laugh. "I can't believe it. I remember this day so vividly too. It's the first time I ever talked to him. I told him I was going to see those lights in person one day. Who knew he'd be the one to go with me."

She pulls the rubber band off another painting and unravels it. "Here's the one I really wanted to show you."

This one seemed to have more of an effect on your heart than the first one.

For a moment, you lose your breath. It was a painting of all you together. It was a memory you remembered vividly just like the first except there was one thing prominently different.

You could recall the day like nothing because you were watching it from your bedroom balcony. Wishing so badly you could join them.

And in this painting, the scene was just as you remembered it, except this time, you weren't watching from your bedroom. You were laughing beside them.

"He painted me into the picture." You say softly. "I remember being so sad that day because I wanted to play with them and...he drew me as if I were actually there."

Elijah was sitting under the shade of the tree, Jean and Ambrose were what looked like wrestling and you were on the swing as Kai pushed you back and forth.

"I know you may have envied him for having all your brothers' attention." She says. "But he never minded sharing it with you. He always wanted you to be there with them too."

You could feel your eyes water. It was quite impossible to not get choked up as you looked at the paintings in front of you. The way that a child made them with so much care and from the bottom of his tiny little heart.

She places her hand on your shoulder. "He's always kept you in mind. I know he may not have the most perfect way of showing it, but you were something special in his eyes even before he knew about your gift."

"And he was always special in mine too." You say as you look at how he drew himself with much less detail and attention compared to how he drew everyone else.

Right then, the front door swings open and Jean stands there with a paper brown bag in his arms. You meet his eyes and before he can even process what was happening, you rush up to him. "Mama Kirstein, close your eyes for just a second."

She quickly places her hand over her eyes and when you finally make your way to Jean, you grab both sides of his face and kiss him deeply.

He melts into the kiss, the bag almost slipping from his arms. You savor the moment for just a few seconds longer before you pull away.

His eyes flutter open. "What was that for?"

You smile as you shrug. "Just wanted to."

He looks toward his mother to make sure she wasn't looking and when he does, he catches a glimpse of all the cold hard evidence on the table.

He practically throws the paper bag on the table. "Mom!!!!!!!" He rushes over to the paintings and immediately begins to roll them up again, his face bright red.

"I'm sorry, Jeanboy." She tries not to laugh. "I was just showing her how you've been an amazing artist since a child."

He shoves everything back in the box and glares at her as he holds it on his hip. "Yeah, okay. You're not as sneaky as you think you are." He then scowls at you. "Don't even think about it."

You throw your hands up in surrender. "I wasn't going to say anything."

Marco then comes out the restroom, fully dressed in lounging clothes and a towel fluffing his hair dry. "What's all the commotion?"

Jean stomps back to his room and shoves the box back on the top shelf. You answer for him. "Jean has a secret box full of-"

He speeds out the room and slams his bedroom door shut. "What did I tell you?!" You fill your mouth with air as you try not to laugh.

Marco looks toward Jean's bedroom and cackles. "A secret stash of what? Porn?"

You slam your hand over your mouth and Jean's drops open. "Marco Bodt!" Ms. Kirstein shouts the boy's name in disgust. Marco's smile drops instantly like a kid in trouble. "Sorry, Mama Kirstein."

You turn on your heel and clap your hands together. "Let's start cooking, shall we?" You could see Jean's humiliated expression and as funny as it was, you knew he wanted nothing more than for the subject to change.

You and Jean's mother begin to get dinner ready while Jean decides to go out to his backyard for some peace and quiet. He could see the hole he dug up a month ago when he was searching for the letters. It had been filled up with melting snow, slowing turning into a deep puddle.

He takes a seat on an old lawn chair and leans all the way back. His head pressed on the back of the seat and his face toward the sky as he watched the stars stare back at him.

"Hey." He hears Marco close the back door behind him. "What you doing out here?"

Jean points at the sky. "Hoping a meteor falls from the sky and lands directly on me."

Marco cringes as he takes a seat beside him. "Well, let's hope that I'm no where next to you when that happens."

Jean actually laughs a little. The first time in days. He turns his head to his friend who smiles right back at him, proud of himself for making a funny joke.

Marco sighs and stretches his legs in front of him and crosses his arms behind his head. "So, what's with the sudden suicidal thoughts?"

Jean's smile fades and he turns back to the sky. "Do you know what you want to do in life?"

Marco frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, where do you see yourself ten years from now?" Jean explains as he sits forward, engaging more into the conversation.

The freckled man beside him twists his lips as he thinks his answer throughly. "Hm, I guess it doesn't matter as long as I'm happy. That's all that really matters at the end of the day."

Jean's sudden alert posture falls back into the chair. Marco laughs. "What? Not the answer you were hoping for?"

He then sits up to match Jean's attentiveness. "Okay, I'll be serious. What's going on?"

Jean scratches the side of his head. "I don't know, it's pretty stupid. Let's just drop it."

Marco sucks his teeth. "We've been friends since we were 16. I've heard a lot of stupid things come out your mouth. I can handle it."

Jean rolls his eyes. "Fine." He sits up again. "I used to have my entire life planned. I was going to move to a city like Marley and move up as high as I could in the royal guard, maybe to commander or lieutenant. I wanted a big house and a gorgeous wife who would look after all the kids we had. Maybe get a dog or something."

"I remember." Marco states. "You swore up and down that you'd have all that done by 25."

Jean laughs at himself. "Well, it's not looking like 25. Actually, it's not looking like it's going to happen at all."

Marco leans forward, his dark eyebrows furrowed together. "Wait, why not? That's your dream."

"It was." Jean admits. "I'm not too sure that's the life I want anymore."

Marco thinks his response through before he answers. "What changed?"

Jean stares at his best friend. He wondered if he could actually confide in him when it came to something so personal and private. He told Marco everything and as far as he knew, Marco never told anyone any of his secrets. "You're going to think I'm an idiot."

"I already think that." Marco teases. "Try me."

Jean takes in all the oxygen he can fill into his lungs before he releases it all back. He tries to say the words but his mouth refused. It seemed to have a mind of its own.

"You have feelings for her, don't you?" Marco says it for him.

Jean looks down at his lap. His silence was everything Marco needed to know.

Marco leans forward, his hands on his face and elbows digging into his knees. "God damn it, Kirstein. What the hell did you get yourself into?"

Jean's temperament makes an appearance. "You like her too!"

Marco glares at him. "It's just a stupid crush. I never actually believed I'd have a chance! I mean, how could you not have a crush on her? The entire royal guard has a crush on her. She's beautiful, kind, funny. But that's all it is. We just admire her from afar."

His irritated expression slips away. "But that's not what it is for you, is it? What you have for her is different."

Jean blows air from his mouth and that's all that really comes out from him because he doesn't respond further.

"Jean." Marco calls to him.

"I know." Jean answers finally. "Trust me, I know."

Marco rubs at his temples like he's getting a headache. "So what are you going to do now?"

Jean shrugs. "Whatever she wants to. I already told her how I felt. Whatever she chooses to do with that information I'll just have to respect."

He waits for Marco to tell him that you admitted to having feelings for him too while he pretended to be asleep but he never does. Probably because he knew the useless piece of information wouldn't change the outcome.

Instead, he looks up to the sky and says, "If she were any other girl, I would tell you to go for it. I would say fuck the guy she's actually engaged with and get the girl. You'd have my full support."

"But she's not just any other girl." Jean finishes for him. "I know. She's a princess and I'm nobody."

He then sits up again and twists his body to face Marco. "But what if I just... tried? Maybe I could talk to her parents and they'll make an exception. I mean, they've known me my entire life they know I'm a good person and will take care of her. I may not be royalty but I love her more than anyone else can. That's gotta amount for something, right?"

For some reason, he naively believed his friend would support the idea. He believed that maybe his friend would feed into his delusion and motivate him to try rather than not at all.

But that's not at all what happens. "I think you're just setting yourself up for disappointment." Marco answers bluntly. "And to die."

Jean's excitement dials down. "You think I really have no chance?"

"I think you're crazy for even considering it!" Marco says. "Look man, I was worried as hell when you were out there. No one had heard from you or the princess and we all began to think worse case scenario."

He holds out his arms to gesture to Jean. "And by the grace of God, you're alive and well. Now you want to go and put your life in danger again? For what?"

"If there's even a slight chance that it will work my way, I'm taking it." Jean brushes aside Marco's brutal honesty.

Marco's tone grows more frustrated. "Why risk it?! You have a dream that it is totally within arms reach. A dream you had for years. Don't give up on that. Don't throw it all away for something so risky."

Jean knew he was just looking out for him. Hell, if it were the other way around and Marco was in love with the princess, Jean probably would be saying the exact same thing right now. He would call him stupid for throwing away actual realistic goals for some fairytale daydream.

But no matter how much sense Marco smacked into him, there was one thing that just kept Jean in place. "I'll never feel the same way for someone like I do for her. I'll spend forever searching for it and it'll never happen."

"What about Thalia, man?" Marco reminds him. "You were crazy about her at one point. That was love, wasn't it? I think I speak for all of us when I saw we were all convinced you guys were gonna get married."

Jean swats away a fly, the insect furthering his irritation. "Haven't you noticed who Thalia looks like? There's a reason why I was so into her."

Marco pictures the girls face in his head and then sinks back into his seat. "Holy shit. She looks kinda like her. I can't believe I never noticed that."

Jean scoffs. "Not anymore. She looks way different now. I saw her in Marley."

Marco's eyes shoot open. "You're kidding. What did she say?!"

"She wants to get back together." Jean replies. "She wants me to go to Marley and marry her. She has a job lined up for me and everything."

Marco smacks Jean on the arm. "You see! That's perfect! Marley is a perfect place for you! You'll have the job, the house, the beautiful wife, everything you wanted." He then puts his hands together like he's praying. "Please tell me you said yes or that you'd at least think about it."

Jean stares off into the distance and shakes his head. "I told her no."

Marco stares at Jean with a completely blank expression. He then stands up and says, "You were right. I do think you're an idiot."

He begins to walk back toward the patio doors to go back inside. Jean cranes his neck back to look at him before he does. "Thanks."

Before Marco can reach for the door, you swing it open. "Food is ready!" You call.

Marco steps aside. "Excuse me, Princess." His tone was about as flat as the frozen lake a few miles away.

You move out his way and he slips back into the house, closing the door firmly behind him. You frown. "What's wrong with him?"

Jean gets up and dusts off his pants. "It's that time of the month for him, I guess."

You send him a confused look but he completely ignores it and goes back inside. You follow behind him. "Did something happen?"

"Don't worry about it." Jean answers firmly as he walks over to the table. He then grabs a seat on the opposite side of the table away from Marco.

His mother holds two large bowls in her hands that steam poured out from. "Be careful! It's very hot." She warns as she places both bowls in front of the two men.

"Thank you mom." Jean says as he reaches for a spoon that was rested on the center of the table. Marco reaches for the exact same one and says, "Thank you Mama Kirstein."

Their hands freeze in place as they stare at eachother. Marco then yields his hand and reaches for another spoon.

The table was round so Jean and Marco sat across from eachother while you sat in between and his mother sat on the opposite end. There was conveniently four chairs.

Everyone began to dig into the food and for a moment there's nothing but peace as everyone devours their dinner.

The tension, however, was clearly there. Marco and Jean refused to speak leaving only you and his mother to fill up the empty void with conversation.

Marco is the first one to speak up. "This is delicious. You guys did amazing."

Ms. Kirstein waves his compliment off. "I can't take much credit. The princess did all the work, I just told her what to put."

You smile. "It's actually my first time making anything besides like a sandwich or a small snack. Niccolo doesn't like me making my own food."

Marco is also the first person to throw a passive aggressive comment. "Wow, you did a good job. Prince Phoenix is going to be one lucky man."

Jean looks up from his bowl to glare at him. You speak up. "Well, I probably won't be doing much cooking. I'm sure they have their own personal chef as well but thank you. I appreciate that."

Jean snorts. "And I thought I was the idiot."

Now it's Marco's turn to send him a deadly look. Jean's mother daps her mouth dry with a napkin. "Jean, don't be rude."

Marco doesn't take the insult lightly. He turns to Jean's mother and presses a staged smile onto his face. "Ms. Kirstein, did you know Jean got offered a job in Marley?"

She almost chokes on her food. "Wait, really? That's amazing, Jean boy! That's where you've always wanted to go."

Jean could feel his grip around his spoon almost snap the thing in half. "It wasn't an official offer."

"He's being modest." Marco comically laughs. "He practically got his whole dream life handed to him and you'll never guess who offered it to him!"

"Marco." Jean warns through gritted teeth.

His mother doesn't seem to notice what's going on. "Who?"

Marco looks right at you now. "Thalia. You remember her, right? Her and Jean dated in high school."

You pretend to be intrigued by the soup in front of you, your spoon going around and around.

Ms. Kirstein gasps. "You saw her? Oh, how is she? I've always liked her. She's such a personable person. Very charming."

"Perfect for Jean, right?" Marco continues. "They won best couple in school. It only makes sense they'd end up being together forever."

"Is that true, Jean?" His mother asks. "Did Thalia really offer you those things?"

"She did." He answers.

Marco takes a sip of his water. "I told him only an idiot would pass that opportunity up. Why give up his life long dream for some-"

Jean slams his fist into the table and stands up from his seat. "I think I lost my appetite."

"Jean boy." His mother frowns.

Jean leaves out the back door and slams it shut. You turn to Marco and look him right in his brown eyes that looked a lot darker than usual. "That was really mean."

He shrugs. "He'll be alright."

You stand up from your seat. "I wasn't talking about him."

Marco's smug face washes away and he looks down at his bowl, ashamed he stooped so low and hurt your feelings. Ms. Kirstein sets her napkin down on her lap. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

You rest your hand on her shoulder. "I'll go talk to him, don't worry." You then turn to Marco. "Marco will help you clean everything up. Wont you, Marco?"

He lifts his head up and nods as he avoids eye contact with you. "Yeah."

[play pluto projector by rex orange county here]

Jean stood by the fence, arms rested on it as he looked off into the distance. He could see hills off in the distance. The same direction of which the two of you started your adventure together.

He remembers the fear he had whenever you first with missing and the immense relief he had when he found you again.

He never thought you would've convinced him to stay with you. He had planned to just find you and bring you back home. That obviously wasn't the case.

He never would've thought the two of you would've passed through three different kingdoms or met as many people as you did.

All the events that happened, he never saw coming. He couldn't believe any of it.

He refused to believe it had been all for nothing. You running away and getting him to follow after you. All the memories, all the intimate moments. What was it all for?

Just some temporary winter romance that you'll look back in years from now and laugh about? A story to tell his friends even though they'd never believe him?

From the rolling green hills, he looks up the sky again. He tried to envision himself on another planet. He wanted to create a new world that was different from the one he was currently in.

In his new world, the adventure the two of you were on never came to end. The show lasted forever. He saw the two of your growing old together, side by side for years on end. Never getting sick of eachother. When he pictured himself getting old, he saw you beside him. Not anyone else.

A world where you weren't a princess and he wasn't just anyone. A place where the two of you could live together freely and in peace.

He remembers that this isn't his first time doing so. He had imagined such a world for years now. Ever since he was a child, he wished for things to be different.

Now he was 21 and there was no difference. He was still imagining a world that doesn't exist and never will. Nothings changed.

He always thought it'd get easier when he was older. Like maybe the older he got, the more his love for you would fade away and he'd grow out of it like a pair of shoes.

But even as an adult, it didn't get any easier. Regardless of how mature he looked on the outside, he was still a boy lost in thought on the inside.

He wished he could be more like his friends. Like Marco who knew it was a bad idea and was able to see the best option clearly. Or more like you, who chose to put aside your feelings and do the right thing.

Why couldn't he be more realistic like his friends or more selfless like you? How did the two of you make it look so easy?

He thought by now he would've had it all figured out. He was envious that everyone else seemed to have it that way. Maybe he just needed this to realize he needed to wake up and follow in the footsteps of the people he admired so much.

As much as he wanted to fight for what he believed in, you didn't. You were firm on doing the right thing. You were able to let go of your dreams and settle for the painful reality. Why shouldn't he?

He was beginning to see it. He was still holding onto a childish dream that everyone else saw right through. Including you.

Maybe it was time for him to let go. Marco was right when he said he was getting offered an amazing life on a silver platter and that he was a fool not to take it. Maybe this was his sign to do so.

He says goodbye to the child inside him and this time for good. He planned to leave his dream of you behind along with it. He finally could feel himself maturing. He was ready to do the right thing.

And then he hears you.

"Hey. You okay?"

He looks your way. You had a blanket wrapped around you and your eyes were locked onto his. The moment he makes eye contact with you, everything goes out the door.

All the maturing and selflessness meant nothing the moment he sees your face. He was back to square one all over again.

But he had to push it aside. He couldn't let that face, the face he'd live and die for, change his decision.

"I think I know what I have to do." He says toward the sky. He then looks back at you. "I am willing to let you go if this is what you truly want and only if. If you really want to marry Phoenix and do the right thing, I will support you in doing so."

He turns his body to face yours. "But before I do," He reaches for your hand and holds it firmly in his. "I need to let everything in my heart go before I let you go."

Here goes nothing.

"I love you, y/n." He begins. "I have for as long as I can remember. If you give me the chance, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. I'll give you the life you want. Whatever that is."

He watches as the corners of eyes turned downward with sadness. "I know you want to do the right thing. I know I should too."

You open your mouth to speak but he stops you. "But the love I have for you is unlike any other. I want nothing but immense happiness for you and I know deep in my heart that I can be the one to give that to you. I'll spend my whole life trying to."

You break your eyes away, no longer being able to look into his. He doesn't falter. "If being with Phoenix is what makes you happy, if leaving to Cicily is what makes you happy, let me know
and I'll let you go."

He shakes his head at the ground. "But I at least had to try. When Marco caught us and I walked behind the two of you, I couldn't stand the sight of you walking away from me."

He then picks his head back up. "Don't get me wrong, the view from the back is amazing and I'm not saying I don't like the idea of you moving forward but... I just want to walk along side you."

You smile for a fleeting moment as his joke. He takes it as a sign he's doing well at convincing you.

"I want you to surpass everyone as the greatest and become the best possible version of yourself." He continues. "But I don't want you to leave me behind. I want to be beside you when you accomplish everything you've dreamed of."

He takes a breath before he says the following. "So just tell me, what is it you really want? What is it that you truly dream for? Whatever it is, I'll make it happen. I promise to you I will."

You look down at your interlocked hands. "I wish it were that easy."

He squeezes your hand. "It can be. Well, maybe not too easy but if we both talk to your parents, I know we can convince them."

You laugh. "I don't think you know my parents as well as you think you do."

"I know they care about you." He doesn't back down. "And they want you to be happy. If they know it's with me that you're the happiest with, I'm sure they won't stand in the way of that."

He only tries to convince you more. "You aren't even first in line to the throne! You can let Elijah worry about the whole uniting kingdoms thing. Why should you? They lock you in a tower your whole life and then let you out only to send you away? How is that fair?"

He leaves no room for you to even respond. He wanted to get as much out as he could. "If you stay with me, you can stay in Eldia. I saw the way you looked when we came back here. Your eyes lit up in ways no other place could make them do."

He looks over at the castle miles away. "This is your home. This where you want to stay. Not in Cicily."

You lean up against the fence. "I've never even been there before. Maybe I'll like it even more than Eldia."

Jean scoffs. "I doubt it. Cicily may have crystal clear waters and white sand beaches but you won't have your family there. You won't have your friends or Mikasa there. And you won't have me either."

You bring your hand to his face. "In a perfect world, we would get all we ever wanted and everyone would be happy. Sometimes I wish I could create such a place but it's not possible. Trust me, I dream about something like that all the time."

She really does get me.

"But this is the best, most reasonable choice. Everyone gets what they want. My parents unite with a strong willed kingdom like Cicily. Eldia will get all kinds of trade and imports from them and vise versa. You'll keep your job and move up rank. Maybe even take that job up in Marley like you've always wanted." You say.

He pulls away from your touch. "Yeah, everyone gets what they want except you."

You shrug sadly. "Phoenix is a good guy and well loved by the people in his kingdom for good reason. Not to mention my 'prison' is actually a tropical island. It could be a lot worse."

"Worse than never seeing me again?" He asks.

You shrink ten times smaller. "Please don't make this harder for me. It's taking every single ounce of strength in me to do this. You have no idea how badly I want to have more time with you. I hope that somewhere off in another dimension or another galaxy, you and I are living happily ever after."

You look down at your feet. "But it's time for us to come down to earth and live the life right here in front of us. Not the one in our heads."

It sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than him.

"If that's really what you want," He says as he feels a strong, suffocating grip around his heart. "I'll let you go."

You look back up at him, your eyes much more glossier this time as they grow deeper with sadness. "Thank you." Your voice breaks.

You pull the blanket from around you and wrap it around him instead. "I'm going to head inside and try to get some sleep for the big day tomorrow." You force a smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He responds as he watches you disappear into the night and back into the house. He now stands alone again, the sky above him as dark as can be with twinkling stars beside it.

He holds the blanket tightly around him. Not because he was cold but because he needed the sense of comfort.

Here he was back in his house town where all his friends and family lived. Yet, he never felt so alone.

The way he felt right now, he couldn't explain to anyone because he knew they'd never understand. Maybe Mikasa if anything. But whatever he opens up to Mikasa about, she is sure to run and tell you. So really, he didn't have anyone to confide in.

He couldn't talk to his best friend Marco because look how that turned out. His other friends like Eren and Connie would laugh at him and agree with Marco.

His other best friend was out of the equation too considering he was your brother. He would have hell of a biased opinion as well.

As for his mother, well, she was always about doing the right thing and always pushed Jean to have the brightest future he could possibly get. Her answer seemed clear too.

He was alone on this. Everyone, including you, was telling him to do one thing when all he wanted to do was the other.

He looks at the castle and thinks of what is to come tomorrow. He was stressed out just thinking of it.

But again, whatever happens will be completely out of his hands. That was just something he'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out. For now, there was no point in even attempting to change what was already destined to happen.

He was ready to give up that dream. Ready to face reality. He promised you he would if that's what you wanted. So that was it.

But before he went back into the house, he prayed that tonight, he'd dream about it one last time.