Disclaimer: refer back to the Prologue. That was the one and only in this fic.
AN: Alright, here's the official first chapter! I decided to turn the other into the prologue so the story flows a bit better. Also, I've changed the rating to T. It'll probably work its way up to M, but I'll give a warning a few chapters ahead of that. Anyways, this is still very short, and I do hope to lengthen my chapters. That'll take some time though, so in the meantime, I'm afraid this will have to do. Thank you for reading!
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Eren's POV
The door to my apartment swings shut behind me. As I slip my shoes off, I greet Mikasa, who appears in the doorway to the kitchen. She holds out a pot and a kitchen towel, and gets right down to business. "Yes hello Eren, I need you to help dry off the pots from dinner. Armin is coming back from Jean's house soon, and I want everything clean again by that time." I drop the plastic bag next to my shoes and groan.
I know not to argue with her, though all I want to do is go to my room and play some video games. "Fine Mikasa," I reply. "I need you to wash those jeans for me though, I need them for class tomorrow." I take the pot out of her hands and get to work, putting everything back in its place when I'm done. Mikasa works quickly, getting the small washing machine started before returning just in time to catch me as I leave the kitchen.
She reaches her hand out, touching my shoulder. I stop walking, turning to face her so she can read my lips should she need to. Mikasa can't hear properly, as a result from the car accident that killed her parents only a few years ago. She hates using a hearing aid, though, and as such leaves it out whenever she's home. I strain to hear her as she begins to speak- she has some problems with volume control, and tends to be too quiet or louder than necessary. "Eren, when Armin comes back, can you talk to him? He's not seeming well lately. He doesn't want to talk to me."
I listen, a bit surprised. Armin is usually fine with Mikasa- if he doesn't want to talk to her about it, it could be pretty serious. Even I've noticed that he's looking stressed and unhappy more often than usual lately, and I tend to be rather oblivious. I nod, making sure to keep my voice evenly pitched. "Don't worry Mikasa, I will do my best." She looks relieved, before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Sighing, I head into the room I share with Armin. It's pretty small, but I insist we call it cozy instead. Armin, ever the realist, almost smacked me in the face with the book he was reading when I first corrected him, but it's become something of a joke between us now. I plop down on the couch that faces the TV at the foot of my bed, pulling my textbook on painting styles toward me in a small attempt to get ideas for my next project. It fails as expected, and only a short time passes before I give up. Grabbing a controller instead, I boot up the TV and get ready to shoot some zombies.
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It's about half an hour later when I hear Armin's declaration of "I'm home, Mikasa", and I pause the game while I still can. Standing up and stretching, I make my way to the front door, where Armin is pulling off his boots.
"What's up, Armin?" I ask, leaning against the wall. Mikasa pops up behind me, then moves forward to hug Armin when he stands up. As he sighs tiredly, I examine his face. He's got bags under his eyes and his hair is a bit more disheveled than usual. Though that could just be a sign of a good time with Jean, his posture says otherwise as he slumps against Mikasa.
"Armin, I've already prepared dinner. You need to eat, you're getting too skinny. Stop stressing yourself out with all that studying," Mikasa scolds. Armin ducks his head, but follows her obediently to the kitchen when she releases him. I let them pass by, but catch Armin's hand once Mikasa's gone through the doorway.
"Hey man, we've gotta talk. I'm worried 'bout you, alright? But go eat dinner first- Mikasa's right, you know. I'll be in our room," I say, speaking softly and looking him in the eyes. He nods, then looks at the floor and follows after Mikasa.
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Armin must have taken his time with dinner, but he couldn't keep our talk away forever. He slips into our room and turns his sign from red to green, then closes the door. He patiently waits for a few minutes, reading one of his textbooks until I get to a place where I can pause. When I finally do, we both put everything else away and face each other, sitting in silence until I speak.
"Look, Armin. I'm not trying to guilt you or anything, or make you feel horrible or whatever. Just- look, man, I'm here for you. Whatever is troubling you, I'll listen. You can tell me everything, alright?"
He nods, but still looks unsure. I don't pressure him any further, though- Armin needs time to put words to his emotions. Indeed, after a few moments he finally speaks up. "I mean, it's nothing much. I promise, Eren," he adds after seeing the look on my face. "It's just, I'm not entirely sure how to handle it. Jean's been talking to Marco more and more lately- I get that they're best friends, and that Jean's scared of losing Marco, but it's like he never spends time alone with me now. I'm probably just being an attention seeker, but I thought that's what boyfriends are for, right? They take care of you and make you feel better and stop your worrying, but…. It hasn't felt like that lately."
Gazing at the fan rotating on the ceiling, I listen attentively until Armin begins to wind down. He's uncomfortable with people watching him when he starts talking like this, and so when i finally do turn my eyes back to him it's only a bit of a surprise that his eyes are tearing up. I know how much Jean means to him- I definitely don't get along well with him, but if he makes Armin happy, then it's the least I can do to put up with him. Now, though….
I sigh. "I'm sorry to hear that, Armin. I wish I knew what to do, but we both know I know about as much about relationships as a dragonfly knows about breathing fire. Thank you for talking to me, though- are you feeling better?"
Nodding, he replies, "Yeah. Thank you for being here for me regardless of everything, Eren." He leans forward and hugs me, and just like that our little talk is over. Now that he's talked to me, I know he can get through this- when he really needs advice, he usually talks it through with me, then goes to someone who can help.
For now, though, he'll be wanting to get his mind off it, so I hand him another controller and exit the game I was playing. He smiles, knowing how much I hate having to do that, and makes up for it by thoroughly beating the zombies' asses in the next couple of rounds.
