Eren's first practice and the art show. Little bit of a slow chapter, but more relationship building between my two cuties. Oh! And the next chapter will open with Levi's POV! :D


Chapter 4: Local Art Show Has Incredible Turnout!
Eren

Practices are even crazier than the matches are. During a match, there is only one soccer ball to follow and exciting things are only happening around that one ball. But right now there are at least a dozen balls being kicked around, and I realize very quickly that there is no way I can follow all of them. I end up focusing mostly on Levi as he practices with his other forwards, Jinn, Church, Bozado, and Shultz. But most of the time, he just practices with the backup strikers, Jinn and Church. I take hundreds of pictures of them, and also dozens of pictures of the other players as well.

I mostly hover around the sidelines, next to the long bench. Most of the players seem pretty sociable, and they talk to me as they come to the bench to sit and get water. I manage to get Church, Schultz, and Zacharias to sign the jerseys in my backpack. Although, I'm a little weirded out when Mike sniffs me before he takes the jersey and my marker. Okay then... that wasn't awkward at all.

Levi watches me pull out all these jerseys from my backpack with a curious expression. I quickly explain that they're my friends' jerseys, and he just shrugs, taking another swig from his water bottle.

"So are you enjoying the practice?" Levi asks, gesturing for me to sit on the bench next to him. I oblige, my heart doing that thing where it goes nuts in my chest. When will I get used to these encounters with Ackerman? But why Ackerman? Why am I not like this with any of the other players? I mean, it's so cool being surrounded by all of them, talking to them, and legitimately hanging out with them, but none of them make my heart do weird things like Levi does.

"Yeah," I reply. "It's very different. There's so much going on, I can't focus on anything."

He laughs at me and I shoot him a glare. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"It should," I retort with a frown, although it probably looks more like a pout. "You barely know me."

"You're right," he agrees with a small smirk. "I don't know you. And as much as the public thinks they know me, they don't."

Wow, that was kind of deep. His words coupled with the look in his eyes makes me wonder what it is he's hiding from the rest of the world. What great secret is he forced to cover up?

"Our break is coming up soon. Are you going to stick around for the afternoon block?" he asks me.

"I'd like to, but... I have other plans," I reply. "I'm in an art show tonight, and I need to prepare. And I have some other art projects I need to work on."

"You're in an art show?" he asks, looking surprised. "Congrats, kid. For your photography?"

"No, paintings actually. I don't really do photography except for Trost Daily."

He nods. "So you're an artist. That's one more thing I know about you now. I can add that to the list, underneath that you work for the press and kind of regularly run into posts."

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm glad I could educate you on my boring life," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I wouldn't call that educated. I still barely know you." He looks up when one of the coaches, a man Levi told me was the offensive coach, Dot Pixis, calls the forwards together. He stands and tosses his water bottle onto the bench. "You'll have to educate me further."

He jogs out onto the field without another word, leaving me sitting shocked on the bench. My jaw is hanging open and I'm sure I'm going to catch a fly or two if I don't shut it soon. Did he really just say that? And did he mean what I think he meant? Does he really want to get to know me better? Why? Why me? Why does mister star of a professional soccer team want to know more about me? What could possibly have drawn his interest in me?

I'm confused for the rest of the block, and when it comes time for me to leave, I really don't want to. Levi remains out on the field for the rest of the block, so it's not like I can even ask him these questions, or ask him if he meant what I thought he meant. I could just be imagining things. That might have just been an innocent statement with no meaning behind it. But it might not have.

So it's these thoughts that are swirling around in my head as I pedal home. The apartment is empty when I arrive, which doesn't help. I need to talk to people. I need to distract myself by bugging Armin while he tries to study or make obnoxious comments about the movie Mikasa is watching. Mikasa has work at the coffee shop until five, and Armin's weekend shifts at the hospital are usually until three, but it's already almost three thirty, so maybe he's working late today.

God, it's only three thirty. I still have five and a half hours until the show starts. Well, plenty of time to get working on my watercolor project that's due on Monday. But I feel totally uninspired. To paint anything other than a certain infuriatingly mysterious striker for the Scouts, that is. Maybe I will just paint him. Hopefully Hannes won't be bothered by the fact that Ackerman has been the subject of most of my assignments this last month.

That being decided, I set up my easel with a fresh canvas and pull out all my watercolors and brushes. I find a good picture on my laptop of Ackerman leaping for a ball with a player from the other team and print it out, taping it to the upper left hand corner of the easel. Quickly changing into my old, tattered Scouts tee, I pull up my stool and begin painting.

Armin comes home some time while my subconscious is distracted by my art, and I vaguely remember saying hello. I think he was telling me how his shift went at the hospital, but I don't remember any of it. I'm in the zone, focused entirely on the canvas, my mind lost in the colors. It's when Mikasa comes home around five thirty and literally drags me out of the stool and towards the bathroom that I come back to the here and now. She instructs me to take a shower and get dressed for the show, because apparently we're going out to dinner on our way to the gallery. She also tells me that we're meeting my parents at the restaurant. That makes me frown, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. Four missed calls, one from Mikasa and three from my mother. Oops.

As I strip out of my clothes to get in the shower, I remember my reason for diving into a painting. It had distracted me from the Scouts practice and everything that had happened there. All of Levi's ribbing and mocking and confusing statements come swarming back into my head. What did he mean?! He couldn't possibly want to get to know me better. Why? What does he see in me? Me, a bruised, most likely ADD college student who works for the press.

I shake my head and water splatters the glass door and tile of the shower. Fretting over all of these questions won't result in answers. They'll just drive me crazy. I need to forget about them until the next time I get to see him. When will that be? Well they won't have practice tomorrow, so Monday. I'll go to their morning practice, but I have an afternoon shift at the coffee shop. I'll ask him then. Maybe. If I can work up the nerve. He's so... intimidating. I can't remember how to words around him.

I force him from my mind as I finish showering and head into my room with a towel wrapped around my waist. I stare at the clothes in my closet for a long minute. I don't have a suit. So what do I wear? Hmm... I have some button downs, and I think I have one pair of black slacks. That's going to have to do. I pull on a deep red button down, then hunt down the slacks. Armin enters the room while I'm riffling through my dresser and half-heartedly covers his eyes.

"Don't be a prude. We've seen each other in our underwear before," I tease over my shoulder.

I find the slacks and pull them on. My hands are shaking as I button them up. Armin notices since he's only half-heartedly covering his eyes.

"Are you nervous?" he asks with a small smile.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I say with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.

"It'll be just fine," he promises me with a beaming smile. "You don't have to present anything, right? You're just going so you can see your work hanging in the gallery, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm still nervous for some reason. I mean, my work will be hanging in an actual gallery. And judges will be looking at it. And judging it. They'll be judging me. Judging... with their judging eyes..."

"Well they are judges," Armin points out with an amused smirk.

"I know that," I exhale, running a hand through my unruly hair. Wait... should I try to do something with my hair? It's a mess, but it's always a mess. I've tried to fix it up before and every time I've failed miserably. But should I try again? There are going to be important people there. ... nah.

Armin gets dressed and the three of us head out to Armin's car. Neither Mikasa nor I have a car, but Armin does. I remember, as we're leaving, to snag my medical alert bracelet and loop the chain around my wrist. If my mother sees me without it, she'll kill me. It wouldn't even be hard. Just give me a little paper cut and watch me bleed out on the restaurant floor. No one will even know I'm dying because I won't have my medical alert bracelet on to tell them that I'm dying.

We climb into the back seat of Armin's Honda, and my foot taps on the floor in the back seat as we make our way down the streets towards whatever restaurant we're eating at. Armin pulls into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant. I immediately recognize my father's BMW a few parking spots away. I get nervous again for a whole new reason. I forgot all about having to impress my father tonight. I don't know what I'll do if he's unimpressed with my exhibits. I try not to care about what my father thinks, but a part of me does care.

I follow Mikasa and Armin into the restaurant and start to look around for my parents. I don't see them at first and start to ask Armin if he's found them yet when-

"Eren, baby!"

My face is pressed into a soft shoulder and arms are wrapped tightly around me. The smell is familiar and I sigh, returning my mother's hug.

"I missed you too, Mom," I tell her.

She pulls back from me and gasps. Oh right, the bruise over my right eye.

"My poor baby. Are you having trouble with your bruising, dear?" she asks, looking over my eye. "When is your next appointment with Dr. Zoe?"

"Next Friday. This is nothing worse than normal," I tell her.

"I think it makes him look tough."

I look past my mom to see my father walking up to me. He looks over my eye with the speed and efficiency of a doctor, then snorts. "It's just normal bruising. Come, let's all sit down and order."

I exhale sharply. He doesn't seem disappointed in me. He doesn't seem upset. He seems happy and like his normal self. Maybe this won't be so bad.

The dinner continues comfortably enough. Most of the conversation is between Dad and Armin about medical things that completely fly over my head. I talk with Mom about my life in general, and I tell her about my new gig photographing the Scouts' home matches. For some reason I don't feel like telling her about getting invited to their practices. It just feels too... private.

When we finish eating, we leave the restaurant and part ways in the parking lot. Mikasa and I climb into Armin's car and my parents follow us onto the main street and towards the gallery. I start to get nervous again, fidgeting with the medical alert bracelet around my wrist. Why am I so nervous? Armin was right. I don't have to present anything, I don't have to speak, all I'm doing is looking at my art hanging in an actual, professional art gallery. No big deal. I laugh at myself. Yeah right. My art is hanging in an actual, professional art gallery! Breathe, Jaeger, breathe.

When we get to the gallery, my heart feels like it's about to leap out of my throat. Sasha and Connie are right near the entrance, and we make a beeline for them. It calms me a little to see some other familiar faces. Power in numbers, right? We start to head deeper into the gallery, but then I see Professor Hannes in the front lobby talking with some other old people. I quickly approach him.

"Eren!" he greets with a smile. "I'm glad you could make it. Are these your parents?"

I look back over my shoulder to see everyone standing there. "Yes," I reply with a nod. "My mother, Carla, my father, Grisha, and my two roommates, Armin and Mikasa." I point to each as I introduce them. "Guys, this is my art professor, Professor Hannes."

He shakes all their hands, then looks back at me. "Come. I'll show you where your paintings are."

I nod and we all follow him through the gallery, Connie and Sasha as well, through the numerous hallways lined with dozens of paintings each. Some are small, like the Mona Lisa, and others are huge floor to ceiling canvases. The halls are filled with people, some young, others older, and even others dressed in fancy suits and dresses carrying clipboards. Those must be the judges, and I get nervous all over again. Looking around at the paintings we pass by, I start to worry. Mine aren't nearly as good as a lot of these. Oh well. This is my first time ever entered into a contest. I shouldn't expect much.

Professor Hannes turns into the next hallway and stops about half way down. There on the wall, sitting side by side are my two paintings. They each have their own little placards underneath with the names of the paintings and no other information. That must be for the sake of hiding the artists identities from the judges. A Grim Reminder and The Forest of Giant Trees. Hannes helped me out with those names. I wanted to do something really stupid and name them Big Ass Wall and Big Ass Trees, but thankfully Hannes managed to convince me otherwise.

"Wow, these are really good, sweetie!" my mom says, ruffling my hair.

I grumble under my breath, pulling away from her. I try to fix my mop of hair, but there isn't much to fix. It was already an untamable mess.

"I have to agree, Eren. I didn't realize how talented you were," my dad says, and those words make me freeze.

I turn to look at him with wide eyes. My mouth is hanging open, and I snap it closed quickly before I catch any flies. Did he really just say that? About my art? I'm stunned beyond belief. All I was hoping for was no criticism on my choice of majors. But I was never expecting praise.

"Uhm... thanks, Dad," I say with a genuine smile.

"I still wish you had chosen a major other than art, but I will admit that you are very talented," he says, and my over-the-moon mood deflates.

"Thanks, Dad," I grumble.

"Eren really is a talented artist," Hannes says, coming to my rescue. "He has so much promise for someone so young. He'll go far in his art career."

I can't help the smile that pulls at my lips. At least someone supports me.

Hannes takes his leave, and invites us to check out the rest of the artwork in the halls. The seven of us wander through the halls, and I recognize a handful of the paintings as works done by some students in my class. We run into Jean and Marco in one hallway, and they join our little entourage. After nearly an hour of roaming the halls, I'm about to ask if everyone is ready to call it a night when I see a familiar head of blond hair down the hall. I debate on whether I should go over and greet him for a minute before I decide why the hell not?

"I'll be right back," I tell the others, then hurry down the hall and around the corner where I saw the blond disappear.

I round the corner to see him standing with another familiar person. They're both looking over a painting, and I suddenly realize that it's mine. Somehow we've circled back around to the hallway my paintings are hung up in.

"Coach Smith?" I call to the tall man, walking up to him and his companion, Mr. Pixis, I think his name was.

The two older men turn to look at me. One of Erwin's thick eyebrows raises in curiosity, then he lifts a finger to his lips in a shushing fashion.

"Please, call me Erwin, especially in public," he says. "I'm lucky enough that my face is not so publicly recognizable, unlike the players' faces, but my name is."

"Oh, sorry," I apologize sheepishly.

"No worries," he chuckles, and I swear his voice is so deep and sexual that it should be illegal. Hot damn. "So what are you doing here? You look very nice, by the way."

I glance down at my clothing of choice and feel a tinge of color grace my cheeks. God damn it. What's wrong with me? This man has to be like, twice my age. It'd be like jumping into bed with my dad. Oh god. All the tingling feelings below my belt disappear instantly at the though. Besides, I'd much rather jump into bed with Levi Ackerman than Coach Erwin Smith. And they're back.

"Uh, thank you," I reply, looking back up at him. "I'm actually in the art contest. These are mine."

The two men follow my pointing finger to the two paintings on the wall and Erwin hums an impressed sound and Pixis' eyes widen slightly.

"You're quite talented," Pixis says with a smile, the skin under his eyes wrinkling. "Erwin and I were just admiring this one, The Forest of Giant Trees. Very detailed. Very... ominous."

"Thank you," I say with a small smile. "So what are you two doing here?"

"We have a very fine appreciation for art," Erwin replies with a smile. "Pixis often buys a few works whenever we come to these shows. Levi likes to as well on very rare occasions."

My breath catches and, god why am I such blushing schoolgirl, but my heart skips a beat as well. "Is Levi here?"

Erwin frowns and looks around. "He should be here somewhere. He went his separate way when we arrived, but I doubt he's left yet. We haven't been here long."

I look around too, but I don't see him. I say my goodbyes to Erwin and Pixis and hurry down the halls. I don't dare run, but I weave my way through the numerous halls and the groups of people, looking for a familiar black undercut and fascinating grey eyes. I don't see him, and I'm about to give up when I do a double take towards the end of one of the halls. A short man is standing there, arms crossed over his chest, looking over a painting. He's dressed in black skinny jeans and a black blazer with a collared white shirt underneath. His eyes are hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses and he wears a dark grey beanie on his head to hide his tell-tale undercut. If hadn't met Levi up close and personal a handful of times, I never would have guessed that this man is him, but that scowl on his lips and the way he stands completely gives him away to me. I hurry down the hall.

"Levi?" I say as I approach him.

He looks over at me quickly, then his scowl deepens. I really wish I could see his eyes. They're so much more revealing. "Don't say my name in public," I retorts, turning back to look at the painting.

"Sorry," I murmur. Coach Smith just told me the same thing, so I should've known not to do it with Levi as well.

"I was actually hoping I'd run into you here," he says after a moment.

My eyes widen at that statement. "Y-You were?" Damn it, a stutter? I've talked to him before. I should be over this nervousness I feel every time I'm around him. I'm starting to wonder if it'll ever go away.

"You told me this morning that you were in an art show, and then I overheard Erwin and Pixis talking about attending this art show tonight, and I asked to tag along hoping you were all talking about the same art show," he explains, looking over at me. Again, I find myself wishing I could see his eyes. Before I can ask him why, he asks a question of his own. "So which one of these are yours?" he asks, gesturing to the painting in front of him with his chin.

"Mine are the two in Hall Thirteen, the ones with-"

"Show me," he says, interrupting me.

I nod and start to lead him down the halls. He walks by my side, not saying a word, his hands buried in the pockets of his blazer. He looks around at the paintings, and it feels like he's glancing over at me every once in a while, but I can't tell with those sunglasses on. When we reach the hall where my paintings are hanging and I point them out to him, he slides his sunglasses down his nose to get a proper look at them. I watch his eyes as they look over my work, taking in every flicker of emotion, even though it's not much.

"These are actually really good, brat," he says, and... wait a second, is he surprised?!

"Uh, thanks? Why do you sound so surprised?" I frown.

He shrugs, glancing sideways at me. His eyes burn with amusement, and I catch it before his gaze quickly shifts back to the painting. It makes my heart do stupid things in my chest. I'll ask again: why am I such a blushing schoolgirl?

"So, uh, why were you hoping to see me here?" I question as Levi slides his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.

He shrugs, his eyes still turned on my painting. At least I think they are. Stupid sunglasses... "I was just curious. I wanted to see your work."

I have a feeling that's not the only reason, but I don't say anything else. I don't want to push my luck with him. At any moment, he could decide that he's too famous to be seen with me and totally leave me high and dry. So I keep my mouth shut and simply nod.

"I guess I also wanted to tell you that after our next home match, Erwin, Mike, and I are going to be holding a press conference at the stadium. We'll be addressing our performance this season since playoffs are coming up. I'm sure whatever the fuck magazine you work for will already be sending a reporter-"

"Trost Daily," I interrupt him. "And it's a newspaper."

He looks over at me and I can just imagine the look that's probably in his eyes. "-but I can get you a pass to get in if you'd like to observe," he continues, still looking at me, most likely glaring.

"Oh, that'd be cool!" I say in excitement. "I'd definitely like to go if you can get me in."

He nods. "I'll get you a pass. Next week and the following week are away matches, so it'll be the week after."

"Got it," I nod, a huge grin on my face. Why is he going through this trouble? Why is he inviting me to all of these things? My mind immediately jumps back to my previous assumption, that it's only because he thinks I'm being abused. I guess it bothers me a little that he would do all of this for me for that reason alone, but at the same time it's cool to think that he cares about my wellbeing enough to go through the effort and trouble of inviting me everywhere. Maybe our relationship can grow into something more than acquaintances? More than him just trying to separate me from an assumed abuser? It'd be cool if we could actually become friends. Because seriously, how cool would it be to be friends with Levi Ackerman?

"Can I ask you a question?" I find myself asking. I regret it an instant later though. Why do I always have to open my big mouth?

He sighs. "The press conference hasn't started yet brat," he retorts. "So don't ask me questions."

I pout and he exhales. He probably rolled his eyes at me too. Jerk. He doesn't say anything else though as he looks back at my paintings.

"These really are good, Eren," he says after a long minute of sort of awkward silence. "You're very talented. Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. It's obviously working for you."

"Thank you," I say, trying to fight the blush that threatens to creep onto my face. Levi Ackerman is actually complimenting my art. Levi Ackerman thinks I'm talented. My brain is having a hard time processing this fact.

He takes a step back and starts down the hall. It's only then that I realize it's completely empty except for us. I start to follow him, but I get a feeling that he doesn't want me to, so I stay standing where he left me in front of my paintings.

"I'll see you at practice Monday," he says with a wave over his shoulder.

"Uh, yeah," is all I can say in response as I watch him disappear from sight.

Okay, so that was all kinds of weird. Why can't that man do anything that's normal? And why can't he just answer my questions and tell me why he's so seemingly interested in my company? I'm just a brat, as he likes to call me. A noisy brat. But he continues to surprise me with little acts like this one.

Deciding not to dwell on the whole encounter too much, I head through the hallways, looking for the group that I had abandoned. I find them again, this time with the addition of Reiner and Bertolt. I show them my paintings, and after a headlock from Reiner with compliments mixed in, the entire group of us ends up just talking in front of the paintings. I sort of keep an eye out for Levi or Erwin or Pixis, but I don't see them at all, for which I'm actually kind of grateful.

My parents dismiss themselves after a little while, deciding that they better start heading home so they don't get back too late. I hug them goodbye, then the rest of us decide to head to Maria Bar and get some drinks. Yeah, a couple of beers after this crazy day sounds like a really good idea.


Btw, when Eren says that he 'can't remember how to words' around Levi? I meant to write it like that. I didn't leave out a word or anything. Didn't know if that would come across like that or not. That's just something I say when I have trouble speaking. "I forgot how to words".

Anyways, you can find me on zoey04ereri. tumblr. com and I'm now tracking the tag "fic: fotp" (I think? Tumblr confuses me) I hope this doesn't seem egotistical or anything, I've just been tagging my own posts about this fic so I thought I'd track it.