first snk fanfic a hh okay okay; let's do this!

"It's too early to be alive."

I had been stumbling around my home for the past twenties minutes, trying to get ready and fully awake so I wouldn't be late, or in danger of being late with two seconds to spare, to work. Armin had told me that, maybe, getting up an hour earlier would be better than twenty minutes before - I would actually have time to shower (quickly, but it would wake me up a little), get dressed and look presentable. But, even still, no matter how many times I brushed down my hair, it would still stick out at odd angles and drive me insane, and eventually, I just gave up.

It was also that untamed hair that I wanted to rip off my scalp. I wasn't in danger of being late to work, not yet, but if I wanted to shower, I needed to find a pair of jeans and a white shirt that was actually clean, and it didn't help that I was still half asleep, even after stumbling over nothing a few good times.

Armin said that he would call me a half hour before my shift started, despite my protests. I told him, over and over, that I "wasn't a child anymore and didn't need you or Mikasa calling to make sure that I'm up like my mother would" but he wouldn't have anything of it. He said it wouldn't be a thing he did every morning I had to work, only the first few times to make sure I was up and I could practically hear his grin over the phone.

The place where I worked at was a family owned flower shop - my family's, to be exact. My mother started it up a year or two before I was born, and still kept going with it once she had me. Some days after school, my father would take me up there, if my mother was working, and we would spend the night talking to her and helping her with customers, if any came in. Most days, when I was there, it was empty - only a few customers coming in with too big of smiles, too sweet of a personality, but it didn't bother me too much.

I just liked spending time with my mother by all the flowers, listening to her as she told of what the meaning was behind a flower.

Once I was thirteen, I actually started "working" there, under my mother's supervision. Perhaps, working wasn't the right word to use; it was more of an allowance. All I did was help my mother out, everyday after school that she was working. I helped with the orders, putting flowers into bouquets nicely, tying a string around them as well as the plastic that protected them. At the end of the week, my mother would give me a twenty dollar bill, and ruffle my hair, telling me that I was a great help. It wasn't until I was seventeen that I actually starting working there with a real pay, as did Mikasa.

Mikasa was my adopted sister; she came into our family when I was nine. She was terribly quiet, at first, staring at me with a curious gleam in her eyes. I was just as curious. I wanted to know how she ended up in the adoption center, what happened in her past and if she even remembered - but I knew better. It was too early to be prying into her past, even though I always, according to my mother, spoke and asked whatever was on my mind. That was one of the only times I didn't do just that.

I didn't walk up to hug her, or shake her hand, because really, what nine year old does that? She was new, and I could tell she was uncomfortable with the new surrounding, but I knew, somehow, that she would fit in. It would only take time. And it did.

She tagged along after school to the flower shop, helping out just as I did. I would tell her the meaning behind some of the flowers, just as my mother told me, and her lips would twitch up in the smallest of smiles, and it would be completely genuine. There were times we would just sit down and talk, though it was mostly me who did the talking; she would listen and nod her head, sometimes smile, or the occasional frown, a worry line appearing between her eyebrows. I didn't realize how much I actually opened up to Mikasa, in such a short time, until my mother mentioned it to me one day, the day I gave her my favorite scarf.

It was a cold winter's day, and Mikasa had just turned ten, whereas I was still nine. My father was working that afternoon when school let out, and so was my mother, so we had to walk to the flower shop. It wasn't terribly far, but the bitter cold made the trip that much worse.

I remember looking over at Mikasa on the walk home. Not many words had been exchanged between the two of us, mostly because we were focused on getting to the shop without falling on any ice that was still on the sidewalk. She looked cold. I felt cold, as well, but it still didn't stop me from unraveling the scarf from my neck and reaching over to wrap it around her's. I got a questioning look in return, and all I said was that she looked cold.

The next afternoon, a Saturday, my mother and I had been waiting for Mikasa to come down from her room so we could go get new snow boots. When she came down, she was wearing the scarf, and my mother sported a smile. She wore the scarf pretty much every time I saw her.

I smiled fondly at the memory, opening the basement door and descending down the stairs. There were times I got Mikasa to sneak down these very stairs with me to try and scare my mother as she did laundry. We learned that they squeaked, and I knew that - but it only occured to me when I was trying to surprise someone. As time went on, we got quieter, and were finally able to scare her.

Entering the laundry room, I saw that the dryer had finished it cycle overnight. I breathed a sigh of relief before coming to a stop in front of it, pulling open the door while crouching down, and then, began my search. There was a sock, and then I found my shirt, a little wrinkly, but it would do. My jeans came shortly after, and all I had to do was find the matching sock-

"There it is."

I closed the door once I had the sock, setting my clothes down on the table my mother had put in here. It was our old kitchen table, one that she said had many memories, and couldn't bear to get rid of. My father was so confused at the notion, only shrugging and telling her that it could go down in the laundry room, that the family could use it to fold clothes and put in piles of whose was whose clothing. Her smile was so bright, and thinking about it was making me miss seeing the way her smiles would light up her eyes.

I changed in the room. It didn't really matter where I changed because Mikasa wasn't home, my father left a long time ago, shortly after my mother went into the hospital, so no one would really walk in on me.

Once dressed, I threw the clothes I had been wearing into the washer, making a mental note to see if Mikasa, and myself, had any more dirty clothes to put in there. And to also empty the dryer - but that had to wait.

I went back up the stairs, walking into the kitchen to grab my key to the house. It wasn't terribly cold out (at least it wasn't yesterday), not enough so the wind was howling and nipping at your face with such ferocity it left you feeling as if you couldn't feel your own face, and only did start to feel it again once you were back inside the warmth of a household. My coat, I noticed, was sitting on the counter, and I knew it was Mikasa's doing - who else would have done it?

My shift started at ten, and as I picked up my coat and looked at the clock, I had twenty five minutes to spare. I pulled my coat on with a grin; this was the earliest I was going to be leaving the house, if I was honest. It wasn't until I had slipped my key into the coat's pocket that I realized I hadn't showered yet, but quickly shrugged it off - it didn't really matter, I showered the night before so it was going to have to do.

I realized as I went outside, and closed the door behind my, locking it, that it was still very cold out. All I could really do was frown and stuff my hands into my pockets before starting off to work. I walking today, not because I wanted to but because Mikasa had taken the car. We only had one car now, one for the three of us to use, well, me and Mikasa now - my dad, when he had taken off, took the other car and a suitcase without another word.

I found myself looking around at the snow covering the ground, looking up at the snow also covering the bare tree branches. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful how the snow could make the world look a little more beautiful, just like flowers did. There were times I couldn't help but wonder if it would still feel beautiful at this time of year if flowers were in full bloom and the trees had their leaves again, where they just didn't die and bloom again when spring comes. It wouldn't feel right, it would defy the laws of nature and it just wouldn't-

My thoughts were cut off with a buzzing in my coat's pocket. Oh, so now he's calling? Figuring it was Armin, I didn't bother to look at the screen to see who was calling, and instead, pressed the call button as I pulled the device out of my pocket and brought it up to my ear, grunting out a "hello?" as a gust of air came whizzing past me.

"Hey, sleeping beauty. Did I wake you up?"

Back track, it wasn't Armin. Surprisingly.

"Fuck off, Jean."

"Oh my, I believe I did. You know, you have work today and only have fifteen minutes to get there, Princess Eren."

This guy really liked messing with my buttons. I never liked him, never; not even when we first met in the sixth grade. We were in the same homeroom class, and gym as well, and it did not help that we sat right next to each other. (Okay, so maybe we were pretty cool at first and I actually considered him a friend, but the next year, our seventh grade year, I heard him say something about Mikasa - and I just went bat shit crazy. I didn't punch him, I didn't scream, I just fumed and sort of ... yelled at him when it was the end of the day. We were "frenemies" ever since, especially when he threw a dodge ball right at my face in gym class. And it also didn't help when he stopped having such a major crush on Mikasa, stopped asking her out, and instead started crushing on Armin.)

"Why the fuck haven't I hung up on you?" I mused, glancing up from my feet to see the flower shop up ahead. "I'm almost to the shop right now, actually, so you can go suck a dick."

"Already do that," he replied, and I could hear the smirk in his tone, and if we were in the same room, I know he would've winked at me like the little bitch he is. He was so annoying, god I wanted to punch him.

I groaned, "Please stop, I don't want to know about your sex life." Especially not when my best friend is involved.

Armin and Jean had been dating for a while - and I tried not to think about it. I never approved of it, but I wanted Armin to be happy. He told me before that Jean makes him happy, that he's not getting hurt and that he doesn't need me to "punch him in the face and shove a foot up his ass." Even after he told me this, I still didn't approve of it and probably never would. I hated Jean. I wanted Armin to have someone that was worth his time, someone that he really, really, deserves.

Ugh, and the day Jean asked Armin out, he came to my house, with the biggest smile on his face and tears threatening to spill out from his brilliant blue eyes and down his rosy tinted cheeks. When he told me, that Jean asked him out, his smile somehow grew wider and his voice was an octave higher - and though I didn't like Jean, whatsoever, I couldn't help but smile and pull him in for a big hug. Mikasa had come in the room shortly after, confusion written across her face, and Armin pulled away from me and told her what he told me. She smiled too, and told him that she was happy for him, also pulling him in for a hug.

"Alright, but I do want you to know I was doing that last night," he chuckled.

"Jean," I warned, and heard another chuckle come from the other side of the line. "Listen, really, why did you even call me?"

There was a pause, and I heard some shuffling, as I came to a stop at the back door to the shop, pulling it open and taking a step inside. A gust of warm air hit me automatically, and I felt relieved, even if there was a faint stinging because of it; I was finally able to feel my cheeks again.

"Armin's still asleep," he finally answered, "and he told me that if I was up before him and before ten, to call you and make sure you're up. So, being the good boyfriend I am, I did just that."

I rolled my eyes, shrugging off my coat and hanging it up on the coat rack, beside the other coat already hanging on it. "Alright, congrats. Now I'm gonna go, because I don't really wanna talk to you and I'm at work."

"Love you too, Jaeger." There was clear sarcasm in his voice, but I still managed a smirk.

"Yeah yeah, bye."

I hung up, slipping my phone into my jeans pocket as I came to the front desk, and was greeting with the sounds of bustling. No one was here yet, customer wise, since the shop didn't open up until ten, but, there was an employee here, if you could call it that.

"There you are, Eren!" Hannes turned around with a grin on his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. "A little early for once, aren't we?"

Hannes was the co-owner of the shop. A few years ago, when I was eighteen, my mother convinced him to become a co-owner. She said she needed help with the shop, even though she had Mikasa and I working there everyday after school, she wanted an adult to be able to help with it - and so, she went to Hannes. He was a friend of the family, and has been ever since I could remember (pretty sure long before I was even born; my mother never told me, but I had a feeling they had been friends since high school, or before).

"Yeah," I grinned, picking my apron off the peg it had been resting on overnight. "Mikasa's not here?"

"No, she's off today."

I should have figured that she wouldn't have been here, or be working today, but it still surprised me either way. We normally worked at the same time, that way we could keep each other company if Hannes wasn't there for the night. If he was, all three of us would play a game of cards, waiting for a customer to show up, and when hearing the bell give its little jingle, signaling someone was coming inside, Mikasa and I (it normally would be us) would jump up and go to help them. Some customers just wanted a pretty bouquet, others needed help figuring out if there was a flower with a specific meaning; those were always my favorite customers.

"Guess it's just you and me then," was all I really said, but I did earn a smile from Hannes.

I sat down beside him, and soon enough, it was opening time. Hannes went to change the sign from 'closed' to 'open' and then came back to join me. We chatted, mostly about nothing. Hannes asked me what I was up to, and how my mother was doing, saying how he really needed to get up there and see it. "It's felt like ages since I've last seen her," he mused, leaning back in his chair. "I've just been busy, but soon enough, I'll bring her up some flowers."

The last time I visited my mother, which was sometime last week, she had so many flowers in her room. Mikasa and I would bring up a bouquet, and tell her why we picked out whatever flowers were in there and she would give us a small upturn of her lips. It was something, but, the smile never did reach her eyes anymore. Her eyes looked so dull in comparison to how bright they used to be.

Around noon was when I heard the familiar jingle of the bell. I held up a finger to Hannes, jumping up and putting a smile on my face, and it didn't sit on my face for very long.

"Mikasa?"

My sister looked up at me, pulling down her scarf just a bit to show the small smile that was taking over her lips. I didn't think I would see her until I got home, or went up to see my mom, but I was wrong. Not that I minded.

"Hey, Eren," she greeted, stopping at the counter. Hannes looked up and smiled, waving at her, and she did so in return.

"What're you doing here? I thought you had today off?"

Her gray hues scanned the selection of flowers, letting out a soft sigh. "I came up to get some flowers for mom. Last time I was there, all the ones she had were starting to die off."

Mikasa had started calling my mother "mom" a while ago, finally getting used to living with us and thought that she could. She looked so scared when she first said it, but, if someone who barely knew her saw her face, they wouldn't have thought she looked scared at all. But I knew her, and I could see it in her eyes. My mother only smiled, and told her it was okay to call her that - she would love it if she did. So, she did.

She called my father "dad" for sometime, but stopped when he up and left us, when he started acting mean a few months prior. She always would hiss his name out whenever he was brought up, and really, I couldn't blame her. He left us at a hard time, and I hated him for it. My mother had just gotten admitted to the hospital, and not even a week later, he left with a suitcase over night, not saying when he'd be back - or even if he would be.

I managed a smile. "Alright, I was thinking about going up later, so I'll bring something too. But, what do you wanna bring up to her?"

Mikasa grew quiet, glancing around quietly once more as she did so. It didn't take long before our gaze met once again. "Good memories?"

A meaning for a flower, not an actual flower; typical Mikasa. I knew she was messing with me, because she knew what most of the flowers in the shop meant, and so did I - we made sure we did, so we could be just as good with flowers as my mother.

"Once moment," I held up a finger as if she was an actual customer and not my sister. I slipped away, going to the back - where most of the flowers were held - and slipped inside the room. Flowers decorated the entirety of the room, all maintained and nursed carefully. My eyes scanned the room before they fell on what I was looking for; small, blue buds: Forget-me-nots.

I walked up to the plant, plucking them out carefully, and bundling them together. It was a cycle; first find the right flowers, pick up a ribbon (my mother liked tying ribbons around the flowers instead; she thought it was prettier, so Mikasa and I kept at doing what she did), then bundle them together and put plastic around them to maintain the flowers in any way possible and find a little card, if they wanted to write a little note to whomever they were being given to. I figured, Mikasa wouldn't need a card, so I let that part go, and tied the ribbon around the stems, and then put the plastic around them.

I walked back out to Mikasa, flowers in hand and a small smile on my face. "I think these'll do," I announced, handing the flowers over to her. She took them, eyes sweeping over the blue buds as she muttered a quiet, "Thank you."

"Well, I suppose I'll be on my way, then," she looked back up, reaching into her pocket and I knew she was going for money, but I stopped her before she even could get any green or coins out.

"Don't, Mikasa. I'll put it in for you later," I waved a hand dismissively, and she stared at me for a moment, giving me that look that she's done so many times before. I didn't need her paying for it, when one, she worked here, and two, I could just pay for it myself for her before leaving the shop later. I won though, and she gave a nod.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll see you up at the hospital then?"

"Yeah."

"See ya, and you too Hannes." Hannes told her goodbye, waving as she left the store. Before she left completely, she glanced over her shoulder at me, our gazes meeting for a split second and I saw the worry in her eyes, the worry that's been there ever since my mother was put in the hospital. She didn't hold it for long, and soon enough, the door closed behind her and she was gone.

Mikasa and I had grown so close, close enough that we felt like actual siblings, and to where we could have conversations with no words. I knew she was worried about my mother, and sometimes, I felt like she was more worried than I was. I could understand why, though.

"Wanna close up early tonight?" Hannes asked, suddenly. I blinked, soon turning around at him to raise an eyebrow in question.

"Like, right now?"

Hannes laughed. "No, no," he waved a hand, gaze still locked on the papers scattered on the table before him. "About an hour or two before closing."

I had nothing against that, so I agreed. After I plopped down back in my seat, we started talking again until another customer, soon followed by another, came in. The first one was a young lady, and she asked if there were any sorts of flowers that her sister might like for graduation. I gave her a bouquet of yellow roses, telling her that they could be given to graduates. She thanked him, and shortly after, an older looking man came in, a soft smile playing atop his lips. He asked for a bouquet of red roses, telling me that they were his wife's favorite.

A half hour after the elderly man, Hannes got up, stretching his arms above his head. "Hey, I gotta run somewhere real quick. Think you'll be alright?"

I nodded, giving him a thumbs up as well to assure him that it's cool, he can go and I'll be fine here. He grabbed his coat, and ruffled up my hair - it was a habit of his, something that he had done ever since I was five - and told me he'd be back in an hour tops.

Being alone in the shop wasn't terrible; I never minded being here alone. Whenever I was, I would just sit there, think about whatever was going on - or tend to the flowers, and the occasional cleaning off the counter top.

But, I really liked just spending time with my mother here - when it was just her and I.

We hadn't been alone in the flower shop, just the two of us, in what felt like forever. Mikasa was normally with us, and if she wasn't, then Hannes or Dad was. There were the few days, very rare but there all the same, that it would just be us and we could talk - I would tell her whatever was going on in my mind, whatever had happened at school recently, how much Jean got on my nerves, and what Armin, Mikasa and I wanted to do over the weekend. She would listen, and put her two cents in here and there, giving a nod, a hum of acknowledgement.

I got up and headed to the back, to the flowers and began to water them, when I heard the bell. I put the flower sprinkler down, wiped my hands off on my apron and headed back out to the front, but came to a stop before reaching the counter.

Most of the customers I knew were regulars, or had been in here at least once or twice before, but this man that was standing at the counter, well, I'd never seen him before. I shrugged it off, putting on a smile and walked up to the counter, gaining the man's attention - and wow, his eyes were a beautiful blue (not quite as brilliant as Armin's, but, whatever).

"Good morning! How can I help you, sir?"

I hope this is an okay first chapter! I'll try and update this as soon as I can and actually finish it, in the future ouo so yeah, reviews would be nice and yeah! hope this turns out good!

~ Lovely Kacey Faith