oddly enough, my writer's block with this story has ended and now I can't seem to stop writing

so here! have another!

love youuuu

xoxo


11

I Have a Secret

"Eren."

A voice. Music. Whispering into my ear.

"Eren..."

My name? My name floating around my head in notes of a major key. Ringing like bells in a gentle, soothing breeze.

"Eren."

A light touch on my shoulder. Like a butterfly, making its home there against me. A slight shake in my body. I opened my eyes but closed them again because there was a bright light there in front of me, and it was blinding.

"Eren."

I opened them because I wanted to see where the music was coming from, and where that touch on my shoulder was coming from. I saw his face there in front of me, blurry in the remains of my sleep. So close that I could see the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles in between his eyebrows.

"Eren, wake up."

I obeyed. I opened my eyes all the way and blinked to get myself accustomed to the brightness. Someone must have opened the curtains, letting the winter sunshine filter into the room. Slowly but steadily I was regaining my senses. I was in Levi's apartment—on Levi's couch—and Levi was right there in front of me. Saying my name and shaking me awake.

What am I doing here again?

I groaned drowsily, my body craving more sleep, and hugged the pillow (had that been there before?) more tightly.

"Come on. It's time to wake up."

He was speaking in a tone that I hadn't heard before. A tone that made me dizzy it was so compassionate.

"But I'm so sleepy."

"I know."

Levi moved his hand from my shoulder to my cheek—a move I honest-to-god had not been expecting at all. But I welcomed it. It was warm and soft, and it spread through my body like a virus. I closed my eyes again and willed that he say my name again. I could feel every indentation of his thumb stroking my cheek. I lay like that for an eternity.

And then I remembered why I was there in the first place.

"My exam! I'm gonna be late! Fuck!"

I bolted up, sending both the blanket (that definitely hadn't been there before) and the pillow to the floor. Panic replaced any comfort I had been feeling, with my eyes wide and my heart rate going dangerously high.

"Calm down. You're not gonna be late. It's only 7:30."

The relief exhausted me again, and I slumped forward. Levi stood up and, as I caught my breath and made sense of my situation, walked around behind the couch to the kitchen. Only then did I notice the sizzling sound, accompanied by the rich smell of vegetables. I stretched my arms out and rubbed my eyes and realized that I must have fallen asleep on Levi's couch while studying last night. And then I had woken up with a pillow beneath my head and a blanket covering my body.

"Sorry," I called, without looking back. I heard him moving around in the kitchen. "I guess I kinda crashed here last night."

"It's fine."

"What time did I conk out?"

"About two."

"Damn it. I still don't feel very ready."

"Stressing about it won't help you now."

"Just saying that isn't going to help me relax, you know," I said with a grin, though I knew he couldn't see it. There was something very light, comforting, beautiful—shimmering, even—in the air. I felt as if some divine deity had written long ago that on this particular morning, I was to wake up on Levi's couch feeling more rested than I had in months, and now I was fulfilling the prophecy. Just a deep, natural sensation.

A few moments later, Levi made his way around the couch, carrying a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. He put the plate on the table in front of me and held the mug out to me. Wide-eyed and a little thrown off, I grabbed it with both hands. Making sure that my fingers lay atop his for a moment before he let go. He moved them smoothly, slowly beneath mine. I brought the cup to my lips—not tea this time. Warm milk. On the plate was an omelet, stuffed with vegetables and melted cheese.

"You didn't have to do all that," I mumbled, suddenly guilty. I was taking up his space. Breathing his air. Involving myself in his morning. Making him cook for me. Even though I hadn't asked, and now the thought that he had done it of his own will was making me dizzy.

"Just eat it. But make sure it's on the table—I don't want anything spilling onto the couch, you hear me? Not even a crumb."

"Yes, sir."

He didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Relatively, at least.

The omelet was good. I took a bite as he sat down on the couch beside me, spread his arm out along the back of it, held his own cup. Whether it was milk or tea I wasn't sure. He was staring straight ahead as he brought it up and down from his lips. Eyes slightly narrowed, like he was thinking very hard about something.

"You're not a bad cook," I said.

"I'd like to think I'm pretty good, actually."

"I would have added bacon."

"Disgusting."

"You don't like it?"

"Not at all."

"Wait, don't tell me—are you vegetarian?" He just glanced over at me with a menacing expression as I let out a burst of laughter. "You are! Jesus Christ."

"What of it, brat?"

"Nothing," I chuckled. I probably could have guessed it, but I'd never really thought about it before. "Absolutely nothing."

There was silence for a few moments before I, of course, felt the urge to keep talking.

"You're not gonna have a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke before 1:00pm."

"Whoa, calm down there, health nut."

He put his cup down on the table, lifted his leg, and kicked me. A playful kick, strong enough to nearly send me to the floor but light enough to keep me from flying. I could see from the tension in his lips that he was hiding a smile, and I wished he would just let it happen.

"Tch. And here I was, thinking that so early in the morning you might shut your mouth," he growled. I reseated myself on the couch and smiled up at him, leaning my arms on my knees. I was starting to get worried that it would happen again—that I would get drunk on the nearness of him again.

"Don't act like you don't like it when I talk," I said. Something had changed in me, I felt. Where had I suddenly gained the confidence to speak to him like this? Without getting flustered and nervous and horny?

He didn't respond. He just gave me the smallest, most discreet hint of a smile, and went back to drinking his undisclosed beverage.

Half an hour later, I left, after he suggested I go shower and get ready before my exam. I packed up my stuff and didn't even want to look in a mirror and see the tragedy that I had become, and realized that I had nearly forgotten about my exam. I had been so caught up in his mere presence. As I was leaving, he came over to the door.

"Thanks, seriously," I said, hoping that he could sense the sincerity in my voice. "Helping me study and making me breakfast and stuff...it means a lot."

"Don't mention it. And don't stress too much about the exam, all right? Trust yourself." He reached up, as if it were completely normal, and adjusted the collar of my coat. Something that Mikasa might have done, but with a heavier significance now. A tingling magnetism.

"O-okay..."

"Go. You smell like eggs and wine."

I smiled, and then I took a chance. I leaned down and put a kiss on his cheek, a chaste little peck. When I pulled away, gazing down at his face, my chest swelled up. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted toward the side that I had kissed him on. The furrow in his eyebrows was gone, any tension in his face had evaporated. He looked serene, like that innocent little kiss on his cheek had released him from something heavy crawling through his muscles.

But it was only for a moment.

Then he opened his eyes and shooed me away and I was gone, reeling, down the stairs and out to the chilly campus.

I want to fall in love with you more than I've ever wanted anything.


The Friday after I aced my exam, a group of us decided to have a 'boys' night.' I wasn't sure what that meant, but Bertholt had seemed very determined to do it. We got as many greasy and fattening snacks as we could and gathered in Reiner's room, and each one of us was required to bring at least one xBox game. Connie also brought some movies of the crude-humor genre, notoriously his favorite. It was me, Armin, Jean, Marco, Reiner, Bertholt, and Connie, crowding up Reiner's room and covering his floor with chip crumbs and cursing at each other while we played xBox. I was sprawled out on the floor looking at my phone, and Armin was beside me, smiling and kindly refusing to play the game because, he insisted, he wasn't very good. Jean was in Marco's lap (they had officially been together for about a week and a half now) very intensely playing against Reiner, Bertholt, and Connie—Bertholt beating everyone else by a landslide.

"Hey, Jaeger! Why don't you try playing me?"

"Nah, I don't wanna embarrass you in front of everyone else."

"You know what, Jaeger, fu—"

"Calm down, Jean!" Marco laughed, blowing gently into Jean's ear.

The reason I didn't want to play was not because I was reluctant to knock Jean on his ass. On the contrary, that would have been all the more reason for me to pick up a controller. But I was a little bit distracted—on my phone. Trying discreetly to do something that everybody knew I was doing anyway. Today marked a monumental moment, though: Levi had texted me first. I felt that I had been transported back to high school, when these types of emotions were stirred and you couldn't get the taste of someone lips off your mouth. What was starting to burden me, though, was that he hadn't touched me—really touched me—since that day in his apartment. A day that seemed like so long ago. And, of course, I had never gotten the chance to touch him. Of no fault of his, really, but still. Soon I was going to start thinking with the wrong head.

"Maybe I'll play later," I called absentmindedly as I typed a message.

"As in, when he's finished sexting his new boyfriend," Connie snickered.

"I'll have you know that I am not sexting, nor is he my boyfriend," I replied.

"Yet," Jean whispered. They were all laughing now, and I scrunched up my nose indignantly. They were as aware as I was of my high-school-crush state.

"Whatever, fuck you guys."

Armin patted my head, a gentle smile on his face. I didn't mind their teasing too much; it was generally innocuous, and it was comforting to know that this relationship wasn't completely in my head.

"Speaking of which, have you fucked him yet?" Jean asked.

I didn't reply, as Marco reprimanded Jean for his rather tactless question. But Jean was a pretty tactless person in general. As his roommate, I had grown used to it, even charmed by it a little bit. I didn't care so much that he had asked. I cared more about the answer.

"Wait—who are we talking about here?" Reiner called over his shoulder. Though he was loathe to take his eyes from the screen, lest his character be shot down without his knowledge.

"I didn't know you were dating someone, Eren," Bertholt added. He was very easily winning, though he was the most calm of all of us.

"Well, I'm not really..."

"I also didn't know you were gay," Reiner chuckled.

"I'm not! I'm just...not straight. I mean, I like both, I don't care—"

"All right, well, who is it?"

"Leeeviiiii," Jean sang, sticking his tongue out at me when I glared at him.

"Ackerman? Levi Ackerman?" Bertholt replied. "He's a senior, right?"

"Yeah," I replied bashfully.

"Nice! Look at you, Eren!" Reiner laughed. "Wait, isn't that the dude we saw at the gym the other day?"

"Mhmm."

"Levi Ackerman. I've definitely heard that name before," Connie said. He was on his knees now, his fingers crushing the buttons on the controller.

"Oh, a few people were talking about him in my chem class," Bertholt began. I knew I shouldn't engage...why would I want to hear things about Levi behind his back...? But, of course, I couldn't help sitting up and paying closer attention. Even as Armin furrowed his brow at me.

"Really? What did they say? When?"

"A girl was telling her friends about how he..." His voice trailed off and the air got icy. I knew without him having to say it what was coming, but I wanted to hear it anyway. In some unexplainable moment of masochistic tendency.

"What? About how he what?"

"Um..." Bertholt looked at Reiner with an anxious expression, but Reiner just shrugged, maintaining his gaze on the screen.

"It's fine, just tell me."

"They were just talking about, you know, sleeping with him," he practically mumbled.

"Oh." I had seen it coming. "When?"

"I don't know, a few weeks ago?"

"...Oh..."

A few weeks ago.

"B-but it was only for like a week, they said!" he stumbled, as my body grew hot.

"Guys, let's talk about something else," Armin suggested.

"Oh, that guy! Yeah, yeah, I heard the same thing from a few dudes in my class, too," Connie said. Completely absentminded, still playing the game. Unaware of the fact that the color had drained unmercifully from my awed face. Yes, this had most definitely been masochistic.

It's not like this is anything new, I thought. Trying to make myself a little less upset. Mikasa told me. Everyone knows. He sleeps around. He likes to fuck. This isn't new, this isn't unexpected, I knew this...

Right?

"Fuck, I lost again! Damn it, Bertholt!"

I lay back down on the ground and pulled out my phone and tried to pretend the entire conversation hadn't happened—tried to forget the fact that Levi could be fucking someone else at that very moment—and read his messages lighting up my phone. While Armin put his hand gently, almost indiscernibly, on my shoulder.


"What am I fucking doing, Armin? I don't even know anymore."

"Do you really want my advice?"

"Yes."

"I think you should just focus on your schoolwork for now—you know, avoid distractions."

"Avoid distractions, or avoid him?"

"...Him."

I picked up a pebble and threw it into the lake. It was going to snow soon, so Armin and I had bundled up and gone to sit on its banks one last time before the freezing cold could make it impossible. I mindlessly watched it soar, drop, create a tiny splash.

"I'm sorry, Eren, I just think he's bad news. I mean, I'm sure he's a great guy and really smart and all that, but I think he's bad news for you. It seems to me like he's just leading you on. You're not the type of guy to just fool around with someone."

"No, I know," I grumbled. He was watching me with those big, concerned eyes of his, hugging his legs to his chest and leaning his cheek on his knees. "Trust me, I know."

"But I also understand that just hearing people say it, or even believing it yourself, won't really change your feelings," he smiled. "Because that's how emotions work. They defy logic. Even if you know what you're getting into, it's really hard not to when you feel something so strongly."

I let out a string of curses under my breath (now visible in the winter air) and threw another rock.

"What is it about him that attracts you so much?"

"I don't know! That's what fucking bothers me the most," I cried.

"Try listing some of his good traits."

"Well he looks like a god, for one thing."

"Something besides how he looks."

"I honestly can't explain it. Something about the way he carries himself—this kind of aura when he walks into the room. And the way he talks to me, or looks at me, or does anything, really. He makes me feel really...comfortable."

"Comfortable? Even after he did that number on you?"

"I don't mean comfortable in the traditional sense. I mean, he's terrifying and he insults me and he yells at me, but it feels natural."

"Eren—"

"He also says really nice things sometimes. And he makes me feel confident in myself somehow. Like I said, I honestly can't explain it."

When I finally glanced over, Armin was staring at me with a furrowed brow and slightly pouty lips. His confused, concerned look.

"I think you're in too deep, Eren," he said.

"You don't have to tell me. I already know."

"So why do you keep going after this? You heard what Connie and Bertholt said. Exactly what Mikasa warned you about. He's not committed to you. He sleeps with everyone."

"Except me."

"Right, except yo—wait, what?"

There was an awkward silence that followed, and I just stared at the glassy water of the frosty lake.

"We haven't had sex." I realized that I hadn't disclosed any of the really intimate details to Armin. He had probably just assumed.

"Seriously? You haven't?"

I shook my head.

"That's another thing that bugs me. Why is he having sex with everybody but me? You know?"

"Can't say I do..."

"I'd fuck him even if he told me straight to my face that he didn't like me. I wouldn't care. If he were down, I'd be down," I said. Ranting now. "And I thought, you know, after what Mikasa said, it'd work out. He'd have sex with me. That's what the rumors dictate, you know? He sleeps with everyone, he'll sleep with me, right? But maybe they're not true. Or maybe he just doesn't like me. Or maybe he does like me and—"

"Eren, you're reading too much into this," Armin interrupted. "Listen. You're my best friend, and I won't stop you from doing what you want. Or...who you want. But you asked for my advice and I'm giving it. I think it's fine to be friends with him, but anything other than that is dangerous."

"Yeah..."

"You have no idea what he's thinking, what he might do to you. He could really hurt you. Whether it's intentional or not."

"I...I know."

Armin gave me a smile, an attempt to lighten the mood and lift my spirits, and put his hand on my arm for a few moments. Then, another cloud of worry crossed his features. All while the storm continued to rage inside me, spurred forward by the icy breeze.

"Hey. Eren. I've been meaning to ask you for a while," he began. I knew what was coming. "How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"No, I mean...like...how are you doing? Are you still having nightmares?"

"Sometimes."

"How often?"

"Three, four times a week."

"That's a lot."

"Yeah."

"Are you still obsessed with reading the paper and watching the news?"

"Not as much. But I still listen to the police radio sometimes."

"That's a little bit better, I guess. Are you taking your medications?"

"No."

"Eren!"

"Sorry. I know it's unhealthy. But I'm doing fine without them."

"You don't have to apologize. I just don't want you to be more stressed than you have to be. I hate seeing you like that."

"I think I'm already past that. But thanks." I tried to smile, but I'm pretty sure it looked more like a half-hearted grimace. "I mean it."

Armin was the only person who knew about my anxiety and my 'obsession' with the news and the fact that, up until about a year ago, I had had nightmares every single night since I was ten years old. I had gotten good at hiding the weird addiction, the terror of the nighttime images, the occasional breakdowns. In fact, I had gotten so frighteningly good at hiding this secret within myself that I hadn't had any incidents since starting school. Not a single breakdown.

(Which is why I haven't bothered mentioning it until now. I hadn't even told Mikasa.)

(Nobody but Armin had a clue.)

A few minutes later we stood up and, huddling close for warmth, made our way back to the dorms.