You arrived just in time—kind of. A second more, and Jean would have been titan fodder. You found him trapped in a titan's open mouth, muscles straining as he fought against its crushing jaws. He was soaked in blood—his own and the titan's—a horror that froze you mid-air for a heartbeat.

Seeing him, fear flooded your veins. You shot through the trees like a wild animal, each swing of your gear coming with a skill you didn’t know you had. With a quick slash, you sliced the titan's head clean off, freeing Jean from its grasp. Instantly, you had him cradled in your arms as you swung into the safety of the treetops. Titan blood steamed off his body as his own thick ichor clung to both your skins.

Your hands shook violently as you laid him on a sturdy branch, securing his gear to the trunk. Your hands clutched his face with the softness of a feather, tracing his crimson-splattered skin.

“Jean. Jean, can you hear me?”

Your voice cracked with worry, filled with raw emotion. After a moment, his eyes fluttered open, heavy yet alive, their long lashes caked with blood. Each breath he took felt like a fragile promise, and your heart swelled with relief.

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him—not now, not ever. If he slipped away from you, you’d drop dead right next to him. You held his gaze, pouring every ounce of love you had into that moment, willing him to feel safe. You would protect him, cherish him. He was your heart, your reason, and in that quiet space among the trees, all that remained was your gentle whisper, “I’m here, Jean. I’m here.”