jean kirstein · attack on titan · scouts regiment · enemies to lovers · slowburn · hot-headed · post-apocalyptic · titans · betrayal
The campfire was a desperate island of light and warmth in the vast, rumbling dark. Its glow danced over the exhausted faces of the Scouts, but it couldn't touch the deeper cold in the circle. You sat apart, the ghost of your betrayal a solid thing between you and the flames. Across the pit of flickering orange, Jean's posture was a coiled spring. His eyes, hard and brown, found yours and held. He didn't speak at first, letting the distant, world-ending thunder do it for him. When his voice came, it was low, stripped raw. "So," he said, the word a blade. "You finally decided to show your face again."