believe in your fragility

Another commission piece! Many thanks to H.K (I don’t know your tumblr name sorry;;)

Reiner laughed at Marco’s comment, “If you do that, you’ll never sleep.”

When Marco finished talking he looked back up, nodded and grabbed his own bag. He unwrapped the foil around his sandwich to revealed peanut butter and jelly. Jean picked it up and took a large bite.

For the next few moments, he went still and silent.

Then grabbed Jean's sandwich and circled the tree.

Lonely. And that’s when it hit her, and oh did it hit her hard. She was crying, her whole body shaking with each choked sob she let out into her pillow. It was times like this she was glad she had no roommate. That mental embarrassment would kill her in a heartbeat if someone saw her this emotionally distraught over something so silly. Wrapping her arms around herself Mikasa just let it all out, hoping the tears would stop soon. And much to her luck and surprise a knock came to the door, she heard a voice but couldn’t understand what they said. Mainly because she was trying to force her tears back she wiped her eyes not really helping any as she tripped her way to the door. "C-Coming.." She called. Opening the door, Mikasa blinked through tears hurriedly wiping her eyes and trying to clear her throat. “M-Marco..?!”

His hands went up to her shoulders, trying to grip them reassuringly, comfortingly. "What's wrong? Mikasa, talk to me," and he had spontaneously pulled her into an embrace, enveloping her while she was tucking into herself--an arm around her back, chin on her head, a hand petting her quivering hair.

Whenever you’re sad, or lonely, or so angry you could burn the world…

Jean took his place next to Marco, leaning his head against the tree’s rough bark. He couldn’t picture Marco being lonely or angry, or any of the negative feelings Jean was constantly hit with. He rolled his head to look at the other. He did feel calmer, but something tugging inside of him said it might not have been just the scenery that soothed his nerves. When Marco mentioned that Jaeger shithead, he turned away.

"My parents own an apple orchard. I think it's safe to say I was raised with my head beneath the branches... Can you imagine? All those trees came from a little seed." He held up a hand, two fingers pinching together for size. "They all started out like that. Even this one right here," and Marco patted the closest winding root of the thick tree behind him.

In Marco's mind, trees were the epitome of growth. Steady and sure, with proof of age. It didn't really hit him until his little sister was born how massive these trees were. Of course trees take longer to grow than humans, but from generation to generation... the difference was huge.

"I... I don't really know what I'm saying, sorry. But it's just one of those things you find yourself thinking about, sometimes. How small and insignificant we can be... but also how big a change we can make," and Marco found himself staring at his hands. A pair of hands like these has the ability to build and create, and that in itself speaks to him.

The knock calls him back to reality, taking out his bookmark his places it, though not happily. Who was that? Was the nurse still worried about him?

School focusing on strength wouldn’t have Reiner trying to remember history or chemicals abbreviations. He did alright with languages, but anything else was too hard. Too embarrassed to ask his bestfriend, he’d probably need to find himself someone to talk him through the stuff.

"Well, there are plenty of resources in the library, certainly, but the work tables are usually occupied by Rosen and Lehrling kids... Since the two of us do sports, it would be harder to reserve a spot, unless," his tone sang, flitting upwards, "we maybe hound down one of the study rooms in the adjacent hall?"

If Marco saw anything, it was Bertholdt's mild discomfort--don't have much trouble, he said, but Marco had no better choice but to just believe those words and trust the other's judgment. "Well, that's good then! Just, y'know, don't forget. If you ever need a hand or something," he grinned, not wanting to press too far on the subject, "just hit me up. Okay?"

As Jean followed the other, he realized Marco wasn’t the nonathletic, ordinary, mary sue type. First of all, Marco had pretty good running form. Even under a uniform and bag, his friend kept an impressively constant speed. Jean stayed close behind, listening to the swishing fabrics of their uniforms and the pattering of their shoes. Where the hell were they going?

When Marco picked up his pace, Jean made a point to keep the same distance he had started at, not wanting to lose sight of the other. Jean didn’t realized they had reached their destination until Marco turned around, his face brighter than ever.

He looked back out to the view of the school, topped with the blue of the sky and peppered with students mulling about in their uniforms, colors too far blended to distinguish, though Marco could see the hues perfectly on his own clothes. His eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a thicker, more languid tone:

"You could come here, you know. I wouldn't mind. That's why I brought you here, after all. Whenever you're sad, or lonely, or so angry you could burn the world... I don't know about you, but I feel calmer just sitting here." There was a pause, then an abrupt shift in the mood.

"I mean, I've seen you rage over that Jaeger kid. I know how it goes, short fuse!" The lightness Marco worked to bring back was almost undesirable in its insistence.

[TXT] Got your report card. Keep up the good work. Sorry we might not be able to make it home for the holidays or your birthday this year. You understand though? Give Eren our best regards hope he’s doing well. - Mom ..

Mikasa shut her phone, eyes closing as she swallowed a particularly large lump in her throat. Christ she wasn’t going to cry was she? This was so stupid. It was just her birthday, they’d missed it the last few years why was she so upset about this time around. Maybe it was the mention of her brother and his well being, instead of hers? It was frustrating to say the least and.. she was jealous. Why couldn’t they at least ask how she was doing..? Or even just say, ‘I love you’. At least she said ‘goodjob’. As much as she rationalized it, Mikasa couldn’t make it sound any better..  She needed someone, but she couldn’t call Eren. No, not with this. She couldn’t trouble him or let him see her like this. Hell, she couldn’t let anyone see her like this. It was pathetic.. but god her chest ached. Why wasn’t she ever good enough?

Firstly, his responsibilities at the school (studies and activities alike). Secondly, his determination to live the new experience to its fullest (even if it meant spending a holiday in company other than his family's). And thirdly, Marco couldn't combat his imbalanced selfishness with his innate guilt (meaning he couldn't run off to his mother in good conscience while friends and acquaintances of his were stuck here, no choice, dead end, happy holidays!).

But the first taste of home that really got him going came in the mail that morning, an already thick box with an even thicker box inside, stacked with a pretty, neat little bow. Upon opening, the smell itself alerted Marco; he didn't even have to look before he was charging up the stairs to celebrate with his other Einhorn pals.

In time he found himself outside Mikasa's door, knocking excitedly.