Circles | Eren x Reader

Chapter 31- Rounabout:

When I made it back to the classroom I found Jean slumped over, asleep against the tan classroom wall. Shit, I thought, I took too long. His breathing was slow and heavy, and his white collared long sleeve was stained red— it seemed he had coughed up more blood. I put my hand on his side. It was swollen and probably horribly bruised. I knew that was what I should get started on first.

A bit of his chest was exposed already, and I could see purple marks peeking through. I put my hands over his chest and began to unbutton the button closest to his face. It was a few spaces down— Jean never wore anything buttoned all the way up— it was too formal. I smiled to myself and then stopped, pulling my hands away from him. My cheeks felt hot; it felt wrong for me to do this. Sure, I had seen Jean shirtless before in the hot tub on our trip, but this was different. It was more private and more... vulnerable. Jean coughed again, but did not stir. I realized I had to push the awkwardness aside and help him. I clumsily unbuttoned the rest of his shirt— my face scarlet from having to stare at his muscular figure so exposed— and assessed the damage. My eyes widened as I observed all of the dark marks on his side. His breathing was weak, but I checked his pulse and his heartbeat was steady, so he was probably okay, for now. In this condition though, Jean would never be able to stand up on his own. I didn't have anything sturdy enough that could support his side, so I had to improvise. I scrunched up Jean's bloody cloth shirt until it became a somewhat hard ball. I put the ball against his side and wrapped it and his torso in bandages. Even through all of the blood, I could still smell ginger and rum. Finally, his side was supported enough to where I could lift him up and set him down on a chair. When I did so, Jean began to stir.

He opened his eyes slowly and fixated his gaze on me.

"Ouch," he mumbled quietly. He looked around the room and oriented himself. My cheeks were burning— maybe he's too out of it to notice that he isn't wearing a sh—

"Where's my shirt?" he asked weakly.

I stumbled over my words. "I— uh— I had to use it to help bandage you up. I— I hope you don't mind, um... I just didn't want you to get caught by Shadis and get, um, get suspended."

He smirked, "So, you took it upon yourself to escort me out of class and patch me up yourself?" Jean clicked his tongue, "I dunno, (Y/N), sounds pretty suspicious to me. And pretty dangerous too. What if I had died?"

I tousled his brown hair and smiled, "That was never a possibility."

He blushed, and then his expression changed to one of confusion: "Why are you bleeding?" He put his hand on my cheek and softly touched the bruise Eren had given me.

I sighed, "Eren accidentally punched me instead of you when I stepped in, and after I beat Eren up, Mikasa punched me again."

Jean's face lit up: "Wait— actually? That's awesome!" He stopped himself and pulled his hand away. "I mean, well, it's not 'awesome' but um..."

I stopped paying attention to what Jean was saying. All I could think about was the way his hand felt on my face. Calloused, yet soft, and it was warm. I wished he didn't pull away, but I knew nothing would've happened anyway. We were both too beat up for romance.

"... (Y/N)?"

I turned my focus back to Jean— his face had turned scarlet. "Yeah?" I asked.

"What's your answer?"

"To what?"

Jean dropped his head and sunk into his seat. "Never mind. Maybe another time."

I wasn't sure what he had asked, but, judging by his reaction, it was probably best to move on. "Let me get the peroxide to clean your cuts, Jean. And here's a towel to rub the blood off of your lips," I turned towards him, "Do you still feel like coughing?"