Light in a prism

      Cold wind, green grass, warm sunshine, Jean recites as he strolls through the park with Renee at his side. Gentle breeze ruffles their hair, and in the sun it looks like Renee’s rainbow hair is sparkling.       Renee is talking about some past Foxes’ shenanigans (why the team is obsessed with betting?). Her quiet voice is like a melody that entrances Jean completely, luring him in with its sweet tones. He lets it wash over him, not really caring about the words — he already knows everything he’s supposed to know about the Foxes, and he doesn’t care about their personal lifes.       Well, that’s not the whole truth — he cares about one Fox’s personal life in particular, but nobody needs to know.       The wind blows, making the leaves fall all around them like peculiar raindrops. He hears Renee chuckle beside him as one of them smacks him on the forehead, and that’s the moment he realizes an important thing: I love her.       The thought terrifies him. Up until now, he wasn’t ready to admit it, even to himself. He’s Jean Moreau, and his life is way too dark for someone shining so bright as Renee.       This is nothing like he’s ever had with anyone. With Kevin it was a painful yearning, huge waves that threatened to drown him or a fire that wanted to consume him whole. Riko’s love was ownership — he liked to frequently remind Jean of the fact that Jean’s everything belonged to Riko. Even when he’s gone now, the marks will stay there forever.       Renee’s love is gentle, like a warm blanket after a cold day or a warm sunlight caressing your skin. Ever patient, she doesn’t push Jean more than it’s necessary, taking his scathing remarks in stride.       Jean doesn’t know what to do with it. Anger, passion, violence — that’s what he’s used to. But love? It’s not something the Ravens or even his parents had for him. Sometimes, when guilt is squeezing his throat after another unnecessary jab at Renee, he yearns for the familiar pain that has been keeping him company for years.       A stray strand of hair sits on Renee’s cheek, the wind having made a complete mess on her head. But it doesn’t seem like it’s a concern for her, judging from the smile still gracing her face. When the sun hits from between the trees, Renee’s face looks radiant, like there’s sun inside of her too. To Jean, she looks magnificent.       Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and tucks the strand of hair behind Renee’s ear. The skin beneath his fingertips is cold, since neither he nor Renee brought any scarves, and the woman jumps a bit at the touch. Just as he’s about to retract his hand, she takes it and puts it on her neck, caressing his rough skin with her thumb.       Jean swallows hard at the show of trust. Renee doesn’t let people near her neck — a thing he noticed early on. He hasn’t asked about it yet because he can guess the story from bits and pieces Renee’s told him about.       “You look troubled,” Renee says, looking at him softly.       It’s an invitation to share the burden with her, but Jean doesn’t feel ready for it today.       He shrugs because what should he say? It would ruin the mood for sure, and that’s the last thing he wants.       The smile, full of understanding, squeezes his heart. Jean squashes the urge to pull at the delicate chain at his neck. He still wears the cross Renee gave him, to have something to hold onto when Renee’s not at his side. It’s something he reaches out for when he feels nervous.       The Foxes are obnoxious, but they have an unyielding spirit (a thing he won’t ever admit to their faces). Their technique leaves a lot of room for improvement, but some of them have potential.       Their attitude towards each other is a different story, though.       There’s no day without fighting, even for the most ridiculous things. Kevin is often the spark or an added fuel to the fire, with his scathing remarks towards his teammates.       So nothing new, Jean thinks to himself, a bitter-sweet feeling rising within him.       Things with Kevin are… awkward, to say the least. The man tries to keep away from Jean but at the same time, he hovers around him as if Jean would keel over without Kevin watching over him. Which is infuriating because what right does he have? He had his chance and he turned it against Jean to save his skin. It isn’t something so easily forgotten, and Kevin seems to know it at least.       There’s a small part of Jean that misses his friend, though — the boy with beautiful green eyes who took over his world, the stories and reassurances whispered in the quiet of the room, the promises of glory, the gentle hands dressing his wounds. Everything was wonderful, as much as things can be in the Nest, until Kevin decided to throw it all away, leaving Jean to bear the gruesome consequences.       A part of him still loves Kevin.       But it wouldn’t be as it used to be between them — too much happened, their wounds still healing. Besides, this kind of love is a forbidden fruit, and Jean knows better than to taste it. The temptation is there, but he learned over the years not to give into it.       Renee is a safe option that doesn’t overbear him just with her presence. And Jean’s attraction to her slowly turned into something more — it still surprises Jean that he’s capable of such feelings.       A warm hand slips into his, calloused but so delicate at the same time, and squeezes his fingers. Jean’s throat tightens up at the gesture. To him, it feels even more intimate than kissing or having sex — hand holding isn’t something he did with anyone ever, so it still feels so foreign.       “Maybe we’ll grab a coffee?” Renee suggests.       At this point, Jean doesn’t care where they are, only that they can have more time together.       He nods, and they walk towards the café, their hands still joined together, and Jean’s heart beating in a strange rhythm.