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I don't own SNK (though I wish I did!). Enjoy!

Six: What Drunk People Say

"They all said she's just another groupie slut. And I said I thought you were anything but...think again."

Armin drummed his fingers against the coffee table, the song playing beneath the low roar of mixing voices. He didn't feel at home, he didn't feel wanted.

Eyes were watching, eyes were judging. Perhaps he should have worn one of Eren's shirts after all...

"Oi, Armin." Eren nudged his arm, smirking. "Off in La-La Land. Don't tell me you're one of those silent drunks."

Armin laughed nervously. "I'm not drunk."

"That's what drunk people say."

Armin settled for a smile. He was an expert arguer, but knowing next to nothing about drunks and alcohol, he kept his mouth screwed shut.

"Here," Eren offered, holding a tiny glass of clear liquid in between his fingers. "Take this."

"Just drink it?"

"Yep," Eren encouraged. "All of it. Just in one go."

Armin sniffed it, wrinkling his nose at the repugnant odor. Still, he did as he was told, knocking his head back and swallowing the liquid in one loud gulp. His throat betrayed him, a sloppy cough erupting from the back of his throat.

Eren laughed, slapping him on the back. "Plenty more where that came from!"

"What was that?" Armin asked, wicking away spit. He set the glass on the coffee table.

"Vodka."

"Egh."

The two sat on a cushy sofa, a bit broken, but still functional. Eren had tired quickly of the band that followed their schoolmates'; they were some "pretentious, bubblegum bullshit," as Eren had put it. The brunette had led Armin to a quieter place, one the blonde appreciated a bit more. As much as the crowd electrified him, quiet was his strong suit.

Still, there were quite a bit of people in the lounge of the 104.

The place was usually off-limits to new meat, but because he was with Eren, Armin was the exception. The lounge was the backstage, the behind-the-scenes. They were bragging rights teenagers would be entitled to when they were bitter, boring adults; "I used to roll with those bands you're listening to" they would be able to say to their children. "Of course, they were better back then. More soul, more desire."

Among them were faces Armin had never seen before. Mikasa was there, yes, but she was occupied with speaking with Hanji about something inconsequential in the corner, each nursing a bottle of beer, Hanji's eyes wild with enthusiasm.

A short man with tired eyes and an undercut sat perched on a stool, a glass of black liquid in his hand. He, as Eren had informed him, was Levi, the owner of the infamous 104. The man behind the ravenous culture of their town.

Beside him, a petite girl with honey colored hair nodded, her hand toying with Levi's hair. "Petra Ral," Eren had said. "Levi's girlfriend."

There were several adults, some young, some older. A man with bushy hair bit his tongue, crying out among his friends. Another with spiked hair reminded Armin of a Hershey's kiss.

A man with a small ponytail had his arms hooked around a woman as she puffed on a cigarette.

The door flung itself open. Levi managed a tired smile.

"Guys," he greeted calmly, raising his glass at them. "Great job tonight. Keep raking them in, yeah?"

"Sure thing," Bert nodded, a coy smile on his face.

Armin watched as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, tossing it over an arm chair.

He didn't dare look up after that.

She was there.

He knew it.

"Annie. Hey, Annie," Eren beckoned.

Armin froze.

He heard her boots, the solid thud of every footstep as she drew closer.

"What's up, Jaeger?" she inquired, voice indifferent.

Armin eyes made it up to the coffee table. Before him, vials of vodka sat, begging to be taken. He reached out, taking two with each hand. Tossing his head back, eyes screwed shut, he took one with a few sips. He took the second in one swig. It burned. He could feel the booze shoot through him. He gave a little shake, a little hack, setting the glasses down.

Blinking away a bleary feeling, he found himself looking at her, eye to eye.

Maybe not the best first impression.

Eren hiked his thumb at Armin. "Armin Arlert," he introduced. "New."

"New, huh?" Annie muttered. She parked herself on the coffee table in front of Armin. She took up a vile, pressing it to her lips and downing it as if it were water. She held out a hand. "Annie Leonhardt."

"Y-yeah," Armin nodded, shaking her hand. His face reddened a bit at the contact. "I just moved to town."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?" It wasn't a matter of interest, but rather a question of motive. She was interrogating him.

"My, uh, my parents just...well, they passed away, uh, pretty recently." Armin rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze.

"They bit it." Annie nodded. "I understand. Sorry."

"You...understand?"

"My mom ate it when I was ten," she explained, shrugging, reaching for another shot. "Overdose."

"Oh," Armin stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she ordered, setting the glass down. "She was fucking useless. I just wish my dad would follow in her footsteps."

Armin frowned, his eyes finding hers once more. "Well...at least yours is still alive."

Annie scoffed. "Please," she drew, knocking back another vial. "He's nothing but a leeching shit. I haven't seen him in weeks."

Armin bit his tongue. Something told him he wouldn't win. Not this round, anyway. "You seem pretty open about sharing this stuff with a stranger."

"I'm an open book," Annie reasoned.

Reiner, who was not too far off, caught wind of her words. He snorted. "Bullshit, Annie."

She shot him a dead look.

Reiner returned to his conversation.

Silence.

The soft sound of music.

Armin sat back in the sofa. "S-so," he attempted. "You were really great."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Thanks."

Silence.

"It's my first time here, you know."

"No shit?"

"Y-yeah," Armin smiled. "I've never really been into music much- well, not this genre anyway- but I really like it, from what I've heard."

Annie smirked. "And how much have you heard?"

"W-well, Eren and Mikasa have played a few things for me. There's always something playing in Eren's room. It's never quiet." Armin laughed to himself. "A-and when I came here, I heard you three play. If the rest of it's anything like you guys, then I have a lot to look forward to."

"Yeah," Annie nodded, her lips curled up. "You do."

Silence.

Armin floundered internally.

Think of something, he told himself. She probably thinks you're boring.

"And, I really liked-."

"Oi, Annie." Levi waved her over. "I want to converse with you in private a moment."

Annie sighed, plucking up two more vials. Pressing one to her lips, she poured it down the hatch. Licking the fire from her lips, she held out the other to Armin. He took it, fumbling a bit when their fingers brushed in passing.

"Hold this for me," she requested, rising from the coffee table. "I'm not quite finished with you yet."

"O-okay," Armin squeaked, nodding his head. As she stepped over Eren's propped-up legs, he watched her walk away. Hips swaying as she went. Heat seeped into his face.

Instead, he focused on the vodka he craddled in his fingers.

Eren snorted as soon as Annie had disappeared, off into the confines of Levi's office. "Jesus, you're easy."

"Wh-what do you...?"

"Got the hots for Lion Heart, huh?" Eren asked, a knowing smile on his face. Taking a swig from his bottle, he slapped Armin's leg reassuringly. "You were kind of obvious, but, hey, that kind of shit might work on Annie. She might be into that stuttering puppy thing."

"I don't...I don't know what you're talking about," Armin retorted.

"Come on, man," Eren groaned. "I'm not gonna lie, that'd be sort of hot. Not too hot, but hot enough."

"I..."

"You think she's hot right?"

"W-well, I mean, she-she's very attractive, and..." Armin shrugged. "And talented."

"She seems to like you enough," Eren assured. "First time she met me, knocked me flat on my ass. Of course, I could never get past the shnoz. And we always thought she was fucking asexual or something."

"I told you she wasn't, man," Reiner informed Eren. "Remember that time she went to the back room with the drummer from...shit, what band was it? Ebony in Jeans?"

"No, no," Bert denied. "That was Hitch, not Annie."

"Quit eavesdropping," Eren dismissed. "Point is...well, I don't think there's much of a point here, but fucking go for it, Armin."

"I don't know, Jaeger," Reiner interjected. He kicked off the wall. "I mean, Annie'd probably kill him."

"You think so?"

"Maybe." Reiner shrugged his over-sized shoulders. "Annie isn't the easiest person to get along with, let alone sweep off her feet."

Armin shifted uncomfortably. "Is she...is she really that bad?"

"You good at talking to girls?" Reiner inquired.

The blonde gave a shaky laugh. "I'm not good at talking to much of anyone."

"Heh." The bassist took a look at the drink in his hand, swishing it around before handing it to Armin. "Here. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone."

Armin shifted the shot glass into one hand, taking Reiner's drink in the other. "What is it?"

Reiner winked. "Like I said, man. Liquid courage."

"Just drink it, Armin," Eren sighed. The blonde looked to his new friend, a bit wary. "Don't worry. It'll help you talk to Annie."

"Make sure you keep an eye on him, Jaeger," the bassist advised, making his way across the room.

"Don't worry." Eren clapped Armin on the shoulder. "I've got your back, man. Enjoy yourself."

"W-well...okay," Armin murmured, pressing the glass to his lips. The concoction was semi-sweet and bitter. It burnt the bottom of his throat but his taste buds ached for more. "This isn't so bad," he mused.

Eren laughed. "That's the spirit, man."

Time passed, the songs changed.

The cup drained.

"Eh heh heh," Armin giggled, waving the cup in Eren's face. "All gone. Got anymore?"

"I think you're solid for now, man," Eren laughed, words beginning to slur.

"Mm'kay, mm'kay." Armin set the cup aside, leaning back in his chair. Everything around him tipped and spun. His head swam. He blinked his eyes, only acutely aware of the toll Reiner's "confidence" was taking on him. "I feel like I could do a whole lot of shit, Eren."

"You just fucking swore, dude. First time I ever heard you swear."

Armin gasped, clamping his hand over his mouth. "I swore?" His hand maneuvered up his face a bit sloppily. "Oh no, oh no. I shouldn't'a done that."

"Why the hell not?"

"My- hic- my mom never liked swearin'. She said it was what people with low I.Q.s did. Wa'n't smart."

"Ah, don' be such a mama's boy, Armin...Ar-a-mean. Arrrrmin."

Armin chuckled, rolling his head along the back of the sofa. "Whatever."

"Oi," a female called. The bleary eyes of the boys moved up, stopping on Annie's figure. "Armin, right?"

"Yep!" he nodded.

She made an amused sound, but her face betrayed nothing. "Do you have what I left with you?"

Armin looked around, eyes flooding with panic. "What you...left?"

"The shot, dumb ass," Eren whined, lolling his head animatedly.

"Oh," Armin stated. "...Oh. No, sorry." He giggled nervously, rubbing his head. "I drank it. On accident."

Annie frowned. "Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. S-sorry."

"Huh." She plucked the empty shot glass up off the coffee table, squinting into it. "In that case, you owe me."

"I owe you?"

"Yes."

"Well..." Armin shrugged, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes. "What'd you have in mind?"

"The bar downstairs," Annie stated. She nodded her head towards the door. "Come on."

"Okay." Armin nodded to himself, attempting to pull his body off the sofa. Wobbling as he stood, he fell back into the sofa. Eren shoved him up, laughing as he nearly collided with Annie. She took a step to the side, allowing the blonde to fall flat on his chin. "Oh. I fell."

"Yeah."

"I fell," Armin repeated, rolling onto his stomach. He laughed, covering his face. "I'm sorry. I think I fell."

"I think so, too," Annie agreed, suppressing a smile. Grabbing his wrist, she hoisted him to his feet.

The two eventually made their way out of the lounge, down the long, graffitied hallway, Armin occasionally careening into the wall and falling into short fits of hysterical laughter. Once or twice, he thought he heard her laugh, too, but upon looking at her, he found her stoically amused.

Wading through the crowd was easier somehow. The constant back and forth current seemed to bump him into a straight line as he followed Annie up to the bar. They nudged a few people aside. Armin offered her the spare seat.

"I think you need it more, lightweight," she insisted.

Reluctantly, he plopped down onto the stool. "So, what do I owe you, Annie?"

"You'll see." She flagged down the bartender. "Caramel vodka, no ice." Turning to the drunk boy, she added, "Your treat."

"I kin'a figured," he sighed, resting his chin in his palm. "So, do you always play solo?"

"I wasn't solo."

"I mean singing. Do you sing alone? Up in the front all the time?"

"No." Annie shook her head, reaching to grab her glass from the bartender. "Tonight was my first gig."

"You...were...wonderful," he drew.

She didn't thank him. "So you're a friend of Jaeger's?"

"Uh-huh."

"What the hell would make you think that was a good idea?"

Armin flinched before noticing the tiny grin on her face. He smiled at her. "It wa'n't really my decision. I was getting picked on, he needed help in school. We made an arrangemen': I help him do better, he made sure nobody tried to beat me up again."

"Again?"

"Yeah. First week," Armin started, pointing to his cheek. "Pushed down the stairs of the school."

"I don't see anything."

"Oh." He lightly slapped his hand onto his face. "Must've healed."

"Yeah. Must've." She paused a moment, taking a drink. "Who beat you up?"

"Huh?"

"Who beat you up? Pushed you down the stairs?"

Armin slammed his hand on the bar, his words slurring. "Jean Kirsten...er...Kirschtein. And Connie fucking Springer." He rocked his head, listing them off, counting them on his fingers. "Ymir Whatever. Krista Whatever. Sasha Blouse. No, Braus. Brows."

"I know all of 'em," Annie nodded. "You go to Saint Maria's then, don't you?"

"Yes."

"None of them are so bad," Annie stated, running her finger around the rim of her glass. "Just a bit stupid."

"Jean's an ass."

"Think so?"

"Yeah."

A sly smile peeled across Annie's face. She leaned her head in. "Jean treats you like shit because he doesn't know you. He doesn't know anything about you."

"He knows how far he can throw my stuff," Armin mumbled grumpily.

Annie stopped. She thought. "I'm not a gossip, alright, Armin?" He nodded. "But I'll give you ammunition. Help you out a bit; you seem like you need it." She wagged her finger. He tilted his head; she pressed her lips to his ear. "If Jean ever fucks with you, call him out on Marco."

"Marco?"

"He comes here with Marco every Monday through Thursday and the two get drunk and fuck around."

Armin blinked. "R-really?"

"Yeah." She took a sip. "It's not that big a secret...and it's also none of my business. But Jean's sort of sensitive about it. It'd throw him off."

Armin smiled, leaning against his hand. "Annie, you're so nice."

She nearly choked on her alcohol. "I'm not nice," she insisted, wiping her mouth on her wrist.

"Yeah, you are. You're helping me an' you don't even know me. That's nice- that's a nice thing. You're nice."

Annie let out a huff, a bit annoyed. Mostly entertained.

Silence settled between the two, Annie tracing her cup, Armin watching.

"They said you weren't nice."

Her finger ceased.

"Who said that?"

"The boys. Reiner and Eren. They told me you would kill me." Armin laughed, his breath reeking of alcohol. "But you helped me."

"Huh." Annie clicked her tongue. "What else did they say about me?"

"They said..." He pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't tell the guys I told you. I just moved here, you know. New friends. They said you were into puppies. No, wait, maybe dumb puppies? And you weren't swept off your feet. Oh, and you...did stuff with somebody in jeans. Wait, wait, no that wasn't you. You're asexual. That's what they said." He nodded to himself.

"Asexual, huh?"

"Yep."

Annie stared at her drink.

"Sorry."

Her eyes snapped up. Armin smiled at her.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I think I might be a little drunk."

Annie smiled. Stepping in closer, she tilted her head, becoming even with Armin. "What do you think?"

"I said I think I'm'a little drunk?"

"No." She shook her head.

Armin blinked, his face growing red. "I think your close."

A small laugh erupted from her mouth. She quickly closed her lips, silencing it. "No, really. What do you think, Armin?"

"I think..." He trailed off, reddened eyes examining her face. "I think you don't give a damn what I think."

"Correct," she admitted quietly. "But that's not what I meant." Her fingers snuck up the front of his shirt, hooking around the collar. "Do you think I'm asexual?"

Armin gulped. "I don't...I don't really know...you."

"I think that can be easily remedied."

Armin held his breath.

So? Did you like it? ^_^

I'd love feedback! Was Annie too out of character? Was there anything you enjoyed? Haha, let me know!

Peace, L.