[centre][hr][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181005/fc898f921f53203bc3bc9106717c7c88.png[/img]

[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 10th - [b]The Thought and the Beauty[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s99jK6AkoQE[/youtube]
[hr][/centre]
[color=Silver]	Everything was dark. Nothing was light nor was it filled with any colour. Saturated emotions infected his system as his eyes were left staring at the ceiling, empty and devoid of all life. Without any sensation, his irises seemed to drain themselves of their acute glimmer and seemed to fall into a state of grey decay. Monotone, covered in senseless ounces of shame and undying indignity, Jean was alone in his thoughts once more. The voices kept ringing out, begging for him to try and return to a state of composure. Nothing of meaning had taken its place within his heart for that moment. The bed beneath his back didn't feel soft anymore and instead was like the splintering fragments of glass and wood chippings back during that fateful incursion between himself and the married Imperial couple. These last few days in Amone had been a nightmare, one that showered him with endless regrets to haunt him forever more. Life was no longer going to be the same, was it? He'd descended down the depths of the Europan's war of corruption and violence. Nowhere was that glorious promise that all the recruitment offices gave when he first put his name forward for Olivia's sake. With everything he once held close to his heart now gone forever, the world was a different place. Reality had hit the previously isolated child harder than ever before. Pain was common. Suffering was the normality of the world. Courage was a fleeting excuse for hiding fear. Manifestations of anger were hiding around every corner and preparing to gnaw at Jean's neck, tearing him until he was nothing left but tissue and bone, not that he was far from it already. His breath was now far more long-winded and drawn out, having really taken in the reality of the situation. Only an hour or two ago, Jean had held a gun to his throat, to his chin perhaps, bolted back the chamber and pulled the trigger with the intent on blowing his brains all across the walls of this bedroom. They were due to scatter, dripping from the walls until some unfortunate soul were to enter and find the aftermath of his situation. There would be no need to rescue him, for he was already due to be gone. But fate had other ideas, not allowing him to load a round in preparation for his own demise. And now, he laid silent and crippled against the sheets of his bedding, still somehow intact without trying again to claim his own life.

	All around him, he heard muffled laughter and seemingly strange muffles of pleasure coming from down the hallways, upstairs or in the bar below. Everyone was blissfully unaware. Jean seemed to find some comfort in knowing that there was no one who would ever care or know that he'd forced the barrel of his weapon to its breaking point. In reality, there was a great deal of sadness, knowing that everyone had already established a close ally and friend to depend on. As the moans indicated, Ines had clearly found a place within Franz's company whilst Britta and Isaac were carefully embracing one another in a seemingly more passionate fashion further down the corridor through the course of Jean's silent breakdown. Michael and Lucia had been well known to find comfort in one another, and it was perhaps only a matter of time before their potential love for another would eventually shed light on the dimness of the battlefield. Freya was already flirting around with many others, Diana and Ines included, as she tended to her best friend Thomas in his own trying times. Reyna had been somewhat solitary and Kalisa sometimes kept to her own, but he...still cared about them. From what he knew, the night before with Reyna, his head resting against her pillowed thigh. Oh, what a beautiful moment that was for him. She even pledged that he didn't have to face his burdens alone, but who would truly accept and understand the attempt at suicide that Jean had forced upon himself recently. Who would sit down beside him and actually comfort his uneasy mind, making sure he wouldn't pull the trigger again, this time with a loaded round. Jean, himself, couldn't imagine trying it again, but neither did he expect to have nearly attempted it the first time. Burdens were something that were always locked up, no matter the reciprocate. Everyone had their own fair share of demons to hide, and Jean's were seemingly more well hidden than everyone else's. Well, everyone knew he had his unhealthy wave of sorrow, but no one knew what specifically it was and how badly it was getting to him, or so Jean imagined.

	There was never a worse feeling than being alone in a time of need. Wishing you had a shoulder to lean against, a hand to hold or a heart to share, Jean was in that moment himself. Never had he felt low down. Whatever cruel devils had intoxicated his food, his water and his air were sure to get a promotion from the barons of hell themselves, having done a fine job in ruining the will of a single man's ability to maintain happiness.

	However, something new came through. A knock at the door suddenly came, to which Jean slowly tilted his head towards the door, having heard it slowly begin to open. There wasn't much evidence to find, minus the odd positioning of his rifle slumped down in an untidy fashion against the hard wooden floor, so in reality he was not rather concerned about what they'd think. Everyone already looked down at Jean, and no one ever showed him the appreciation that a stable NCO required in order to understand if they were good at their job. He waited for the door to slowly open further and further, taking its longest amount of time for whoever was to stand on the other side. The best guest was some unnamed barmaid or cleaner just ready to take a plate or two out from his room, ignoring the actual presence of the Corporal by all means. Or was it someone who wanted to just say hi, then leave before engaging in more loving acts with a partner of their choice, one that Jean felt rather out of place being surrounded by. For someone who wanted it so dearly, he was definitely crippled by the unending love that came from all around his squad, throughout the past few days, whilst they all began to grow closer as individuals. But as his thought was about to turn blank once more, the door opened to a rather familiar light, one that began to brighten up the room completely. Clearly without him opening it, the door was easy enough to open up just from her knock, which made Jean question its integrity, but he didn't seem to care once Reyna's eyes became far more visible from his downed position. Jean slowly sat up on his bed, almost immediately after noticing her with the pitcher and tray in hand. There was a silence, one of hesitation and simply being taken back by the sight of her. He couldn't of imagined what sort of mess he might've looked like, his hair being left all over the place and still rather moist from the inability to dry it after his hallucination, but he didn't care. For a moment, he sat waiting, before standing up and hesitantly walking towards her with a small tremble in his wrist.

	His shirt was barely buttoned up to say the least, only reaching just above his chest, the neck-height ones being left to gvie him some breathing room within his compiled clothing. Eventually, the cleaner uniform, now devoid of the blood that no longer stained it, gave him a somewhat fresher appearance. With him now drawing closer, he suddenly let out a somewhat hesitant stare into her eyes, locking onto her pupils with a strange magnetic attraction that wouldn't let go. He nodded slowly and eventually gave her some room to move inside,a t least to put the tray down and to pour whatever she had on offer.

	It smelled sweet, whatever she had gifted him in that moment. Not one of them had uttered a word just yet, but Jean could feel himself begging to speak. It was a nervous state of disarray and miscommunication. Did Jean make her uncomfortable or was this a case of simple politeness? It was a painful experience for Jean. Unknown as to why, he wanted to hear her sweet and soothing voice once more. The previous night had given him delight, happiness and a sense of calmness for once. She was there, by Jean's side, and encouraging him to continue the fight in the name of the Squad. And with that, she was right. There was no one else to fight for but the comrades around him, the ones who foolishly followed him into the breach of every unknown danger surrounding their location. There was no one else to turn to, except for the sense of fighting. But, something didn't feel quite right with how she said it. Jean didn't know what came after the war, if the war were to ever end. If he survived the entire bloody siege and exchange of bullets over the course of how many days, months and years, who would he have left to live for? There was a difference between leaning on those you care about in the field of combat and the aftermath of rebuilding that comes next. Jean was for certain doomed to roam the streets, alone and cold, without a home or without a friend he could simply embrace within his arms, tightly and closely. As much as he wanted someone for that, his hopes for achieving such a powerful ally were thin, especially for something that came after the war. Everyone wanted to go back to their lives, becoming singers, writers, politicians, shop-keepers, street thugs, businessmen, lawyers and more, or perhaps going back to finally live the lives they missed with friends and family. Jean was...Jean wasn't going to get that luxury.

	The tea began to trickle softly into the mug she'd brought with her. A small smile began to flicker on Jean's broken face as the smells began to sweetly tender his nerves, having an almost medicinal touch to it. Part of it seemed fitting for the beautiful girl stood within his room, as both of them held similar attributes. They weren't products of feeling better or nourishment, but they were instead companions or things that could be seen as perfect. Rich in taste, or personality, they didn't share a lot with the horrors that consistently thrived in the outer world. It was as if they'd held their own bubble. And to be honest, Jean wanted to be a permanent part of that bubble. Once she was done pouring, he raised the mug to his mouth, embracing the sensual smells of the tea leaves previously used to create it. Suddenly, he felt himself going into an uncontrollable grin, one that reminded him of a home that he once lived within. The smells and the first taste given when he took a sip was enough to bring a tear to his eye, one that was strangely noticeable. He didn't comment on the sudden flourishing of emotions, but his bright smile spoke plenty of words. This warmth was a great refreshment since the previous act of self-hatred, but it had a special sort of love catered into its mixing. Jean liked that. He liked it a lot.

	And in that beautiful bliss of the tea's succulent and enriched warmth, he placed the cup down for a second and suddenly began to speak up, finally breaking the silence as he gave her his complete happiness. Jean thought she perhaps deserved to see him at his best, without the seemingly annoying temperament of his spiralling depression and trauma.[/color]

[color=aqua][b]"R-Reyna? Did...did you make this? It's fantastic. It's...it's just perfectly sweet and exhilarating at every single gulp. I've...I've never taken a drink that reminded me so warmly of...of home. Of a home I still wish to go back to. It's...it's really nice and amazing."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He instinctively took the tray out of her hands and placed it down on the same chest of drawers that his mug was laid on. At first, his motives seemed to be rather unknown and mysterious, but he soon revealed what he at least intended to show as a notion of his gratitude. Slowly, and rather elegantly, he drew himself close to Reyna and wrapped his arms around her smaller height, giving her a rather gentle hug. It was an embrace that suddenly Jean felt enthralled by, one that gave him a sense of accomplishment and comfort. He held it for quite a few seconds, letting his grip not engulf Reyna but rather embrace her sweetened manner. A strange surge shot through his heart as he did so, before he whispered gently to himself, though enough for her to hear.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Thank you for a lot of the things you've done, Reyna. I...I was worried that after the war fighting for the Squad is no longer applicable. I can't live for the squad and...instead I want to live and fight for-"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Quickly, Jean drew himself slightly away from her, just to not engulf her with the hug as he realised how much she could've hated his straight-forward influence on her simply delivering tea. He let out an embarrassed sigh and sat back down on the bed, reaching for his mug again before quickly apologising.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"U-Uhh...nevermind. I'm...sorry I kinda leapt in there, I was just...I've...had an emotional day, I guess. This tea does really help though, thank you."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]His face was bright red, redder and thicker than the blood he'd been spilling in Amone throughout the past few days. There was a clear sense of embarrassment over his action, one that seemed to make him more nervous than he previously was. Still, his eyes darted away from hers and he seemed to be grinning slightly to himself, before he finally changed the subject to try and make light of the situation.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Let me guess, you've...uhm...heard the activity down the corridor? I guessed because of the spare cups and all. It's been a bit of a nightmare having to...well...be an audible audience, I guess is one way to put it."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	He tried hard not to chuckle too loud, hoping to at least give Reyna some form of giggle to divert her attention away from his awkward blushing, but even then, he continued to make a few more jokes about the situation, it being recent and Reyna clearly having experience of hearing it, per se.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Let's just hope we don't get a [i]new recruit[/i] in nine months. Don't think we have space after the new girl joined..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He finished his tea finally, placing the mug by his bedside before he looked back up at Reyna with an endearing glisten in his own gaze. Slowly, the brightest and warmest smile he'd ever produced slowly came out, making sure to give all its wholesome effects that came with it. And with a confident and really delicate tone, he finally uttered out another quick quip for her actions.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Thank you, Reyna...You're a blessing to the Squad, and...well...to someone in particular."[/b][/color]

[centre][sub][@Bushman501][/sub][/centre]