#jeanbo

love this animal. the hoarse

Jean loves to spoil you for the holidays, but his favorite part of the season is knowing that your favorite gift is always the one he makes for you by hand.

In the past he’s given you paintings, mosaics, and handmade jewelry. This year, he started taking pottery classes.

You think he’s out for a boy’s night with Marco and Connie who are covering for him, but in reality he’s perfecting his skill late at the studio, making sure your gift is the best thing he’s crafted yet.

He had to change out of his clothes and wear just an apron over his boxers to make sure he didn’t come home covered in clay, ruining the surprise.

He shivers as a draft wafts through the studio, but his cheeks flush and he’s filled with warmth as he imagines your face lighting up with love and admiration when he hands you a beautifully glazed vase full of your favorite flowers for your handmade gift this year.

TW: Themes about body image later on in this chapter. 

Early morning November rays bid you no pleasure of gentleness to your eyes as they begin to creep open. The bitter sting in your vision makes you seethe with slight annoyance, and you instinctively turn your head away from the brightness. The left side of your jaw presses into your shoulder, a small act of defiance against the intrusive light, while your eyes squeeze shut to rid yourself of the pain from the sunlight. As the warmth of the sun seeps into the room, it mingles with the remnants of sleep clinging to your mind, creating a disorienting haze that leaves you momentarily suspended between dreams and reality.

You feel a soft buzz from underneath your pillow, instantaneously you realize that it must be your cell phone.

As you shift, the soft sheets envelop you like a warm embrace, and the scent of clean cotton whisks your nostrils, inviting you to inhale deeply the subtle yet pleasurable fragrance. The aroma is a comforting one, almost reminiscent of fresh laundry and sun-drenched morning, but this all feels oddly foreign to you.

You attempt to open your eyes again, blinking a few times in the process, but this time, it is successful. Your eyelids peel open with just another few blinks or so, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The world around you begins to take shape and you notice a wall much different than your room wall greets your vision. A steady blink followed by another and just one more, the realization both crashing around you and settling in all at once.

Though the natural sunlight is bleeding through the blinds, the room itself is dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls and delving into the crevices of the corners and molding. Still, your eyes are pinned on the unfamiliar photographs stuck to the wall, as well as a poster, and meanwhile, a hint of that oh-so-familiar cologne is lingering in the air. A flicker of confusion stirs within you, but the warmth of the bed keeps you anchored, lulling you into a sense of security.

Wide eyeballs trace back to regular positioning and your breathing returns to normal after a moment of panic that originally set in was now washing away. You had forgotten until now that you spent the night with Jean in his bed.

Side by side with him.

Regardless of the previous times you and Jean rolled around with one another, this moment felt raw.

Intimate.

Casting your head to the right, squinting against the relentless assault from the sun. You notice how the light catches the long, tousled strands of his hair, illuminating them brightly. It is a striking sight vested upon you, and for a moment you are captivated. The warmth of the morning light bathing the room, and you can't help but feel a mix of awe and vulnerability at the reality of this moment. A moment that is both intimate and disarming, a reminder that you are here, in Jean's room after a long night shared.

You watch as the naked muscles of Jean's back contort and tense up with each soft subtle breath he sucks in and pushes out while still sound asleep. His face burrowed into toned folded arms while lying partially on his side, but the majority of his weight lay flat on his stomach. Upon further inspection, you couldn't help but notice the thin reddish-pink claw marks that burned into his skin that your nails had etched into his back from the night prior. You begin to feel your insides curl at the remembrance of last night's activities with the tall man.

Fingertips of yours grow greedy, no, needy, to feel him even though that's all you did last night was feel him. Reaching forward your hand raises to his back, allowing a ginger touch to brush against his smooth but marked skin. Instantaneously the muscles in his back twitch at the contact of the foreign feel from your fingertips against his body. Hesitantly, your hand pulls away partially and your eyes cut to view and see if he began to wake or not.

After a moment of hesitation and with no sign of Jean coming to, you continue your free-for-all by feeling the marks alongside his back... and muscles. This is when you also notice subtle but faded bruising marked across his warm skin. You couldn't but help feel a little guilty to see him marked in such a manner, markings from you, though the marks were a remembrance of a night full of pleasure and fun.

Eyelashes flutter through rapid blinks whenever you feel the sudden shift and deep rise and exhale press out of Jean's chest. You peel away from the boy in hopes he has no clue of you feeling on his body in a curious notion.

Jean's head tilts to the side closest to you, "mmm... why'd you stop?" his voice is rugged from partial consciousness.

His question catches you completely off guard, and you freeze in your place without an idea of what to say, or what to think. You can feel your face rise in temperature by a degree or two from the utter embarrassment of being caught red-handed from caressing his back.

The comforter is assaulted by your fingernails as your fingers curl into the blanket. You hoist the thick material up and across your face to cover yourself. The edge of the comforter dusts over your face, covering everything just south of your lower eyelids and down. The tip of your nose presses into the material of the comforter as you inhale the scent of sheer cashmere. The scent that not too long ago you were greeted with for the first time, but now the scent you found yourself longing to breathe in.

Jean's rising shoulders catch your gaze as you watch his left arm stretch up and behind him, aimlessly searching for you. When his palm finally finds your hip, he cups onto your body and rubs you gently for a moment, a tender gesture that sends a shiver through you. He exhales deeply through his nose, a sound that resonates with the lingering remnants of sleep, before turning his body to face you directly. The moment feels intimate as if he's pulling you to be in his world with him, and you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

His eyes carve open and dig into you as he stares at your mostly exposed face.

"Are you seriously trying to hide from me right now?" A hint of humor coats Jean's tongue.

The hold you once had placed on the blanket to protect yourself from Jean's viewing of the state you were in dampens, and wearily the blanketed protection peels away. The corners of Jean's lips perk up into a slight smile once your face is fully uncovered and for him to view. This is when you notice how close he was to you exactly, the front of his body just inching away from yours. And it didn't even phase you in the slightest of the possibility of illuminating morning breath.

"Not a chance," the grooves of the corners of his mouth remain pinned to a grin as sure enough his head tilts towards yours.

The cupping of your face with his palm soothes you and you bleed into his fingers as his kiss-parched lips ghost over yours. Naturally, your lashes flutter to a close whilst anticipating the familiar yet exhilarating buzz of Jean's lips on yours.

The morning calmness soothing not only you but Jean as well, basking in the moment of intimate serenity together before divulging in a kiss.

The moment does not last long whenever your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as the sound of Jean's bedroom door thrashes open. Behind the door crashing to the wall with quickness is the sound of a heavy leaded foot. Your eyes dazzle open and with eyelashes fluttering rampantly, you duck closer to Jean's sculpted body for covered protection.

Without the turn of a head or even the slightest inclination to direct his attention to the door that was abruptly open.

"Piss off Jaeger-"

"Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Sunshine," there's a moment of silence before Eren speaks once more. "C'mon, it's time for the gym; classes were canceled due to the snowstorm last night."

"My previous statement remains the same," Jean's eyes match the tone of his voice as they cut toward Eren like a pair of daggers.

"Can't have two rest days back-to-back," Eren's voice trails off to the distance, "you of all people know that."

The bedroom door softly clicks shut, and with that, Jean drops his head to the mattress underneath him. A huff of an exhale escapes his nostrils with force, and you watch as his back rises and then deflates altogether as if Jean accepted his defeat (Eren being right). After a moment of internal self-reflection, Jean turns his head to face you again. A hint of annoyance pinches at his brow from the interaction, but his eyes remain softened and engrossed when looking at you.

"You must have a strict gym routine, huh?" you ask with a tone of amusement.

"Believe it or not, Eren and I have held each other accountable for working out ever since we decided to start taking the gym seriously." Jean lets out a sigh, "he's just doing his part so I can't be too annoyed."

"How long have you been working out for?" you ask, more than curious to see how long he has been at it considering how good he currently already looks.

Jean pauses momentarily while trying to remember correctly for an answer to your question, "Sometime during my freshman year, I can't remember exactly, but I do know it hasn't even been a year yet since I don't think."

"I'm not sure how you think of or how you might view yourself, but I just wanted to say that you look really good so far, Jean, I can tell that you are truly dedicated and the work shows," the words leave your mouth faster than you truly realize what it is exactly you were saying.

The look on Jean's face was already an enamored one, but somehow his demeanor manages to sift and change to a much softer, more raw, expression. It is as if, somehow, he had never heard those words of true admiration expressed to him before. This thought you found to be a little unbelievable, but based on his reaction, it seemed to be more true than not. But based on the current expression that Jean wore on his face let you know just how impactful and heavy your words were to him.

The tension on the corner of his lips lessens as his mouth slopes open, the pupils of his eyes practically vibrating as he stares at you in awestruck. Jean, not quite sure of what to say, his mouth clamps shut to prevent a spew of word vomit. You watch how his thin eyebrows pull and pinch at the center as an abrupt wave of discontent casts over his face momentarily and vanishes faster than it even appeared.

"That means a lot to me, truthfully," Jean's voice is earnest as he speaks your name, "a while ago something happened and I was made to feel lesser of myself based on my looks by someone I thought cared about me, but that wasn't true."

Jean's ex.

You thought to yourself.

Then and there, you remember the brief conversation that you had with Marco just yesterday evening. You recall what it was exactly the freckle-kissed boy exposed to you about the insight of the experience Jean had with his ex.

In accordance to Marco, Jean has been in a dark place and the aftermatch he had with his ex was not a pretty one, to say the least. Jean expressing to you this sensitive information was all the confirmation that Marco was right and had told you the truth yesterday.

And with all of this knowledge of information being pieced together absolutely made your chest sink.

Everything was adding up in your head as the bits of information were being combed throughout your head. This is why Jean must be so adamant about going to the gym now. He must've been so scorned by his ex in such an atrocious way all things you know to be considered. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard for you not to piece things together in such a way.

But, for Jean's sake, you chose the ladder, "whoever made you feel that way about yourself is such a loser to say the very least."

Cringing inwardly, the words leave your mouth faster than your brain could process. There was a moment of regret, but what you said is truly how you felt. There was no mistaking that.

When Jean's lips curl into a delicate smile, it releases the breath you hadn't even realized you were holding, a soft exhale that escapes your nostrils with a rush of relief. The warmth of his expression washes over you, easing the tension that had unknowingly settled in your chest.

Jean says your name through his worn smile, "Thank you, and I would have to agree with you on that one."

"Is that why you have bruises all over your body..." Again, the words spill from your lips faster than you could think. "From the gym, I mean," your fingertips lift forward and gingerly lay on Jean's skin, ghosting a faded bruise etched into his body.

"Wha.." the words fall from his tongue in a confused manner before his face sparks with realization, "I didn't think you'd notice those, they're so frequent to me I've become blind to them. But yes, the bruises you see are from the gym and also fighting with Eren."

Not one, but both of your brows pin upward without the intention of lowering until further clarification.

Jean breathes a hearty chuckle, "Eren and I like to practice boxing sometimes after a workout, it's nothing serious but it is fun to me at least."

Your eyelashes flutter together as you blink once, twice, and then a third time, trying to process this new layer of Jean. You're learning things about him faster than you anticipated, and the idea that he and Eren spend their time playfully beating each other up is both surprising and oddly endearing. The thought of Jean enjoying it makes a smile tug at your lips from the thought of it all.

"Y'know... If Floch causes too much of a problem for you, I can act as your side muscle," he continues, his tone light and teasing. "Yeah, I could protect you—or at least make the guy feel a bit uneasy."

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you're taken aback. The idea that he would go out of his way to offer you protection, sends a flutter of warmth through you. You're not even sure what Jean thinks of you, and yet here he is, casually stepping into the role of your defender. To be fair, you realize that Jean had been in that role for a bit already, considering how he reacted back at the Halloween party with you. How he held onto you and kissed you for the dare in the attempt for Floch to see. How he was there for you and shielded you away whenever you saw Floch and Mina together on the dance floor together and took you home.

But then, as if realizing the weight of what he just said, a playful grin spreads across his face. "I mean, I'm not saying I'm some kind of superhero or anything," he adds, his voice lightening the mood. "More like a really enthusiastic sidekick. Just don't expect me to wear a cape or anything."

You can't help but laugh, the tension easing as you see the playful glint in his eyes. It's a moment of levity, but beneath it, you sense something deeper—a connection that leaves you both curious and a little breathless.

"What's your favorite workout tune?"

Jean practically blurts out his response as soon as you finish your question, "The 9th Circle, and now that I am thinking about it, I'm pretty sure that was the song I was listening to whenever you ran into me whenever I was on that run."

"Oh yeah..." you giggle nervously, but ultimately, a smile peels at your lips, reminiscing that moment and how you were lying with Jean in his bed at this very second.

The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself lost in the moment, but soon enough, you feel a twinge of guilt wash over you. Eren is probably waiting for Jean to head to the gym, and you don't want to keep him from his routine.

"I should probably get going," you say, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness in your chest.

The center of his eyebrows creases together in a disapproving fashion, that, or a confused one, "Wait, why so fast?"

He almost seemed to be hurt by your confession.

"I don't want to hold you back from your workout." There was a dreadful sigh from you, "plus, Eren's probably waiting for you."

Jean's expression shifts slightly, and a hint of disappointment flickers in his pale eyes. "At least let me make you some breakfast first," he insists, his voice earnest. "You can't leave on an empty stomach, especially after last night."

Especially after last night...

His offer hangs in the air, and you can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at his thoughtfulness or from his last remark.

"I can whip up an omelet. My mom used to make them for me all the time when I was a kid, It's a tradition at this point," he adds to his prior suggestion, his tone brightening while his large palm remains on your hip. The offer now seems to be way too good to pass up.

Your heart warms at the thought of him sharing a piece of his childhood with you. "That sounds great, Jean," you reply, a smile spreading across your face.

As Jean swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, you can't help but admire the way he moves—each motion fluid and confident. The morning light spills across his skin, highlighting the contours of his back and shoulders, and you find yourself momentarily captivated by the sight.

He stretches, arms reaching high above his head, and you can't help but notice the way his muscles flex and ripple. Though it's a sight that sends a flutter of warmth through you, you also can't help but feel a little disappointed by the absence of Jean's embrace.

Jean strides over to his closet, the fabric of his pajama pants shifting against his skin as he rummages through the hangers. You watch, entranced, as he searches for something within his closet. The way his back muscles shift and flex under the morning light still drew your gaze.

Finally, he pulls out a baggy t-shirt, the fabric soft and worn, and huffs it on over his head. As he does, the shirt drapes loosely over his frame, but it does little to hide the definition of his arms and the subtle curve of his torso. You can't help but admire how the shirt accentuates his physique, the way it clings just enough to hint at the strength beneath.

As he turns to face you, a playful grin spreads across his face, and you can feel your cheeks warm at being caught in the act of watching him. "Ready for breakfast?" he asks, his voice light and teasing as if he can sense the way you've been checking him out.

"Definitely," you reply, trying to keep your tone casual, but the flutter in your stomach gives you away. You follow him into the kitchen, and the air between you is charged with an unspoken connection that lingers in the space, making the moment feel even more intimate.

Once in the kitchen, Jean begins to gather ingredients, and you watch as he expertly cracks eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced hand. The sound of the eggs mixing fills the air, and you lean against the counter from the center island, feeling a sense of comfort in the domesticity of the moment.

Eren's voice suddenly cuts through the atmosphere as he re-enters the kitchen. "Dude, are you serious? The earlier the better, it's going to be packed out by the time we get there."

Jean rolls his eyes, not missing a beat as he continues to prepare the omelet mixture. "Chill, Eren. Breakfast is important. You can't just skip the gains," Jean glances at Eren, "you of all people should know that."

Eren huffs a now playful tone, "I want mine with spinach, ham, and cheese." Eren turns his head to look at you then back to Jean who was still scowling at him, "She hittin' the gym with us?"

You chuckle softly at their banter, feeling a sense of camaraderie with both of them. "I'd love to join you guys at the gym, but it's about time I probably head back to my dorm," you answer Eren, trying to keep the mood light.

As the omelets cook, the aroma fills the kitchen, and you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. Jean plates the food- Eren included- and all three of you sit at the large kitchen island, the atmosphere relaxed and easy.

"This is so good," you say after taking a bite, genuinely impressed.

Jean beams at the compliment, and you can see how much he enjoys cooking. "Thanks! I've had a lot of practice from- well, childhood until now," he replies, a hint of pride in his voice.

After finishing your meal, you clean up the kitchen together, minus one Eren Jaeger. Once the dishes are done and the kitchen has been properly reset to its original state, you stand in the foyer, glancing around in search of Jean, who disappeared quickly after you packed a small disposable bag full of your belongings.

Just as you begin to wonder where he might have gone, hurried footsteps echo from the top of the staircase. You take a few steps forward, craning your neck to catch a glimpse, and your heart skips a beat as Jean appears, descending the stairs with a duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder.

"I'm taking her home first, and then we can hit the gym," he calls out, glancing back over his shoulder toward the hallway, likely addressing Eren.

A disgruntled groan floats back from Eren, but Jean's attention quickly shifts back to you, his face breaking into a warm smile that makes your heart flutter. He's changed into a fresh outfit—a black fitted cap perched atop his head, with a few rebellious strands of hair peeking out from the back and sides, framing his face in a way that adds to his effortless charm that he isn't aware of. He wears new bottoms and sneakers, though he still has on the same shirt from earlier, the fabric clinging to his frame in a way that makes you acutely aware of his presence.

"Ready to head out?" he asks, his voice light and inviting as he reaches the foot of the stairs, with a folded hoodie of his in hand. The warmth of his smile envelops you, and you can't help but return it, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of spending more time together even though it was to part and say goodbye.

------------------------------------

The truck's wheels groan in protest as the aging vehicle shudders to a halt inside the parking lot just near your dorm building. You blink up at the red brick walls just ahead of you, and a wave of realization washes over you, grounding you in the stark reality of the moment.

You feel a twinge of reluctance to exit his truck and make the trek back to your dorm room, the feeling portrayed without realizing it as your fingernails begin to dig into the hem of Jean's fleece hoodie that you were now wearing.

Your fingertips begin to unclasp the seatbelt from the hold it had over your body before Jean erupts with a likely proposal.

"Let me walk you to your room." His offer is more like a statement rather than a question awaiting your approval.

Without saying anything in response, your lips curl upward into a smile, and you bob your head in response to his question. Jean practically throws his seatbelt off of his body, and he is already on the go as soon as you give the boy your answer.

When Jean reaches the passenger side of the truck, he opens the door for you, the metal creaking slightly as he leans in. "After you," he says with a playful grin.

You can't help but smile as you slide out of the cab, grasping his hand for support as your other hand collects your bag of possessions while your feet meet with the ground beneath you. The solid thud of the heavy metal door echoes in the quiet parking lot as Jean secures the truck door behind you with a firm latch. Jean steps back after locking his truck, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he releases your hand from his.

After a brief moment, he turns to you, his expression softening. "Ready to head up? Also, let me carry that for you," he suggests, taking your bag.

You nod, though a sense of reluctance stirs in your gut at the impending goodbye that looms shortly ahead.

The morning air is crisp, and the chill bites at your skin, but the warmth radiating from Jean beside you keeps the coldness at bay while the two of you embark on your journey. He walks closely beside you, his shoulder brushing against your arm every now and then, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the intimacy of the moment even though you had done more together than just bump shoulders. The snow crunches beneath your feet with each footstep, and the world around you feels invigoratingly fresh and new. The sun breaks through the thin veil of white clouds, casting a warm glow on the blankets of snow and causing the crystalline landscape to shimmer and sparkle brilliantly.

"Thanks again for breakfast and everything else in between," you say, glancing up at him. His expression is soft, and you can see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Of course, anytime," he replies, his voice low and warm. "And I'm glad you liked the food."

You both walk in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of your footsteps mingling with the distant laughter of students enjoying the snow day. The campus is partially alive, but in this moment, it feels like it's just the two of you.

"Hey," Jean suddenly says, breaking the silence. "I had a good time with you last night. I mean, I know it was just... You know... but I enjoyed being with you."

His words send a rush of warmth through you, and you can't help but smile, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact so your eyes watch the ground before you. "Me too. It was nice to just... have fun and not think about anything else." You manage the courage to look back at the man beside you.

He nods, his gaze focused ahead, but you can see the way how his jaw tightens slightly as if mustering up the courage to say something. "I'd like to see you again if you're up for it. I mean, not just for... you know, that." He gestures vaguely, and you can't help but laugh softly at his awkwardness.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you reply, your heart racing at the thought of Jean wanting to see you just because, and not due to your little arrangement that was made. "I'd really like that."

As you approach your dorm, the reality of the moment settles in, and your feet begin to feel as heavy as bricks of concrete. You're about to part ways, and there's no telling when you will cross paths again. A part of you feels a pang of disappointment in your chest. You want to linger in this moment with him, to stretch it out just a little longer.

Jean stops in front of your dorm, his expression serious now. "I'll text you, okay? We can figure something out."

"Definitely," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates for a moment, and after biting the bullet, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips lingers on your skin, and you can't help but smile as you pull back to meet his gaze. On the outside, you remain cool, calm, and collected, but on the inside, you are about to explode... or implode.

A brief silence envelops the two of you, thick with tension as unspoken words dangle in the heavy air. Thoughts of yours swirl in your mind, racing to find their way to your lips for translation. But, your tongue feels heavy refusing to move and so it stays pinned in its place, tucked behind your teeth. Meanwhile, Jean, likely berating himself for his boldness, seems unfazed, his gaze steady and unwavering as it remains locked onto you.

"See you soon," Jean finally breaks the silence, his voice low and sincere as the bag of your belongings transitions from his hand to yours, his long fingers brushing against yours, and you do your best to savor the feel of his touch.

"See you soon," you echo, watching as he turns to walk away.

You stand there for a moment, feeling the warmth of his presence still lingering in the air before you finally turn to head inside. As you enter, the space is quiet and empty, and you realize that Ymir and Christa are nowhere in sight. After closing the door and locking it behind you, you glide over to your bed and sit on the edge of the mattress, simultaneously releasing the bag from your grasp onto the floor at your feet.

Your high heels.

You can't help but acknowledge that you look like a hot mess, clad in Jean's borrowed clothes and teetering on the heels from the night before, but they were the only choice. The state of your hair is best left unexamined, and you cringe at the thought of how you must have appeared in front of him, even though he seemed completely unfazed.

Without wanting to even simply entertain the thought of the high possibility of others on campus casting sight upon you, you pull out your phone for a cause of distraction.

The screen illuminates with a flood of neglected notifications that have piled up over time. As you begin to scroll aimlessly through the clutter, a fresh notification from Instagram pops up at the top, with several other notifications from the app stacked behind it.

This one in particular you couldn't possibly ignore.

Your heart skips a beat when you see it—Jean has liked a photo you were tagged in. Then, another notification- Jean has now followed you on Instagram. A smile spreads across your face, and you can't help but feel giddy at the thought of him wanting to stay connected. Your thumb presses on the most recent notification, and it launches the page, and sure enough, Jean.K has followed you.

Jean liked a photo you were tagged in.

You go to this mysterious post you were tagged in and notice the originating account is from Armin... who had also somehow found your account and bid himself the pleasure of following you. Sure enough, a photo from last night's dinner had been uploaded to his account most recently. The corners of your lips remain pinned upward as you view the photo and examine Jean sitting next to you. How the proximity between the two of you seemed to be a little more than just friendly.

This explains the hoard of notifications cultivated from Instagram.

Deciding to return the favor, you decide to say fuck it and request to follow Jean back almost immediately. After the request to follow Jean was sent out, you decided that there was no turning back now. A smile breaks across your face at the thought of maybe just being the slightest bit closer to Jean's world.

Jean: Haha  That was quick

Gravity pulls at your jaw as your mouth begins to hinge open, and just before you bolster the nerve to make a quip, the grey chat bubbles emerge from Jean's end. Jean: That's OK I've already taken a look through your account 👀😃

Jean.K has accepted your follow request.

Your heart races at his playful message, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. You can't help but imagine him scrolling through your photos, piecing together fragments of your life, and the thought sends a thrill down your spine.

You type a quick response, your fingers dancing over the screen as you try to keep your tone light and teasing. To avoid a spiral of self-doubt, you deemed it best not to check your page and go down a rabbit hole of overanalyzing your Instagram page. 

Today 11:58 Oh really? I hope you didn't find anything too embarrassing...

As you hit send, a flutter of anticipation fills the air, and you can almost feel the warmth of his gaze on you, even through the screen. Moments later, the three little dots appear, signaling he's typing again, and you hold your breath, eager for his reply.

Jean: Only the cutest pics 😏 OK I have to be good and focus on driving now