Hey all!
Thanks for being patient; I love all of you guys for being so supportive and nice and honest about what you think. ^_^
I don't own SNK and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Eight: Inspiration
"Men of five, still alive through the raging glow, gone insane from the pain that they surely know."
Armin kept his head down.
School had become significantly more tolerable ever since he befriended Eren and Mikasa; nobody attempted to mess around too badly. Just a little shove here, a spitball there, a sign patted onto his back every once in a while.
Unfortunately, the only thing he couldn't necessarily withstand was the twisted circus that was their gym class.
His class was the largest of that year, kids spanning several grades mixed into one cesspool of brewing trouble. There were athletic children, ones who knew what they were doing, their bodies built to tackle any obstacle a middle-aged powdered-donut-eating gym teacher could throw their way. Then there were the bored looking girls who hardly participated, staying in their own pack near the sidelines, their sweaty jerseys forming a massive, uncaring clump. A few students lingered on the sidelines, the volunteer substitutes who had never felt the pain of a soccer ball stubbing their toes or the metal of a linoleum bat in their hands.
Armin carried a cardboard box of disinfected shin guards in his hands, trailing behind the other students.
Maybe I ought to start working out or something, he lamented. The sweat was already beginning to form on his brow, matting his hair to his forehead.
"Oi, Arlert."
A feeling of dread washed through Armin's body. "J-jean."
"What's the matter, huh?" The taller boy elbowed the blonde, sending him wobbling. "Not strong enough to carry that on your own?"
Armin frowned. "I'm not looking to start a fight w-with you...Jean."
A snicker escaped Jean's mouth. "Whatever, Arlert," he scoffed, taking larger strides, powering away from the boy with two soccer balls under his arms. "You're not worth the sweat."
As the bully drove himself out of range, Armin sighed. Of course, he wasn't looking forward to the body checks and bruises he'd receive later on, but still. Prolongation wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Once he had padded onto the yellowed grass of a dying football field, he dropped the box at the foot of the gym coach.
"Go on," the instructor nodded, waving a strong finger towards the students lined up so dutifully in a row. "Get in line."
"Right!"
Armin bolted, avoiding any gaze, every gaze.
"Alright, Reiner Braun?" Nothing. "Not here again, eh?" Their coach, Keith, shook his shaved head in disappointment. "Armin Arlert?"
"H-here."
"Sasha Braus?"
"Yeah!"
"Marco Boldt?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mina Carolina?"
"Present."
He continued to rattle off the names of every student. Armin recognized a few of them, really recognized them, as something other than his peers. There were chain smokers and dancers, people that drank shots from tiny orange glasses, people that hurled into the bathroom, tangled in one another's arms. All of it, all of them in that place, that breeding ground that caused Armin so much happiness.
"Annie Leonhardt?"
Nothing.
"Again..." Keith clicked his tongue, moving on.
Armin's brow furrowed. Annie? How long had she been in his gym class?
The class split into two teams. Armin, as much as he desired to, didn't end up on the sidelines as one of the substitute players who would never see action. He stood in the back on defense, an unambitious gym class position.
The ball bounced between players, hitting shins and breaking toes. People shouted to one another, angry and urgent. Sweat poured. Armin wicked the sweat under his bangs away with the back of his hand. The sun beat down, blinding on the shadeless field.
She's in my class?
He tried to remember, he fingered through every memory of his horrid hellish gym class, looking for that streak of blonde, that pinkish nose, those icy eyes. He felt he would have recognized her. He would have been stunned by her presence, her beauty. How often did she skip? Would it affect her grade too greatly? He bit the inside of his cheek. Where was she now?
"Oi! Arlert! Look alive!" Mina Carolina pleaded from the goal cage.
"E-eh?"
Armin blinked, wiping his head around. The ball barreled towards him, people in red jerseys running desperately behind it.
He stepped out of the way, his legs turning to follow the black and white soccer ball.
Shouting. He heard it. He threw his leg out, aiming to kick it away from the goal, away from Mina.
"Not today, Arlert!" Jean swept up from behind, knocking Armin aside. The blonde flailed, grabbing at Jean's sleeve, something to stable himself, to save him from a hard collision. Jean shouted. "Get the hell off me!"
He struck his elbow out, landing a solid blow into Armin's face.
He fell to the ground, eyes pinching together in pain. His fan flew to his face. He felt liquid seeping onto his fingers and lips. He tasted it. The coppery taste of blood.
Keith blew the whistle. The game ceased. Armin bit back strained grunts, sitting himself up, covering his nose.
"Pull it back, Kirschtein!" Keith barked. "Let me see, Arlert."
Slowly, Armin drew his hand away. A few girls made gagging sounds, a few boys chuckled and groaned.
Keith sighed. "Get your ass up, Arlert, and get to the infirmary." The bald man turned to the class, his head shimmering in the blaring sun. "Who's gonna walk him?"
Nobody volunteered.
"I can...handle myself," Armin insisted, staggering to his feet. He recovered his nose, his head thudding with the adrenaline of being embarrassed. "I-it's fine."
Keith grimaced. "Fine." He waved his hand, ushering Armin off the field.
The blonde trotted away, hearing the whistle blow behind him, restarting the match.
He avoided the infirmary as his sneakers squeaked down the marble floors. It would mean calling his grandfather, most likely to take him home, and he didn't want to put that on the older man.
Through the heavy scent of blood in his nose, he could barely smell anything else, though he could make out the faintest cloud of smoke billowing from around the corner.
Curiosity made him veer off his path.
What he found stunned him.
With a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, her eyes wide with paranoia, she still looked stunning.
"A-annie," Armin uttered.
"Nh," she mused, drawing the cigarette from her lips. She blew the smoke out from between her pink lips. "It's you."
"Wh-what are you...I-I mean..."
"I told you I go here," she replied.
"Y-yes but, don't you...usually skip?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "You could say you...inspired me." Annie paused, gesturing with her cigarette towards his face. "What's the matter with your nose?"
"O-oh! Right." He lifted his hand. "Just gym class."
Her eyebrows raised at the sight of his bloodied face. She took one more drag before tossing it to the floor, her black boot snuffing out the pink embers. She nodded her head. "Come on," she urged. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Hesitantly, he followed.
She made a beeline for the bathroom. Her hand rested on the "Women's" door.
"W-wait!" Armin shouted. Annie paused. "W-w-we...I-I can't g-go in there..." He looked away bashfully, pink tinting his cheeks.
"It isn't a big deal," Annie began.
"B-but it's...indecent."
She rolled her eyes, making for the men's bathroom just across the hall. Her hand gripped his wrist and she took him along as she shouldered the bathroom door open.
He made a panicked sound as she flung him forward, towards the sinks. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, she gave half to Armin. "Here." She turned the faucet on, running the other sheets under the water. "Make it stop the bleeding."
He did as he was told, mopping his face with the harsh paper sheets.
"S-so, why weren't you in gym?" he ventured, attempting to broach the silence.
"I'm not a fan."
"O-of sports?"
"No, of organized bullshit."
"O-oh."
Silence.
"Well, I understand your dislike towards it," Armin grinned. "This isn't the first time that has happened."
Annie looked up at him from the corner of her eye. "Why don't you skip then?"
"Huh?"
"Skip. Cut class. Play hooky."
"Isn't that...b-bad?"
"You calling me "bad"?"
"Ah! N-n-no! Of course not!"
She shut the faucet off, wringing the paper towels out. Armin let the dry towels fall from his face. He took the damp ones from her, patting his face. "S-so...I inspired you?"
"What?" she asked.
"Earlier. You said that I...I inspired you?"
"Oh." She looked into the sink. "You don't remember much from Friday night, do you?"
Armin shook his head bashfully. "N-no. I'm sorry."
Annie nodded. "In your drunken state," she began, "you kept babbling about all sorts of shit." Armin ducked his head, embarrassed. "And you kept going on and on about education and learning and reading and shit. Said it was one of the most important things to you. And you kept going on about how much you enjoyed school, even though some kids would kick the shit out of you." Annie shrugged. "I guess I forgot that learning matters to some people. I was never into school and shit." Her eyes found themselves in the mirror and she gripped the porcelain sink. "I might've been if I had grown up in a different place. Different parents, different peers. I don't know." She shrugged again. "I don't know."
"Wow."
Annie turned sharply, eyeing an awestruck Armin.
"What?"
"I've just never heard you talk so much," he admitted. "From the way you tell it, I did most of the talking."
"You can talk a lot, that's for fucking sure," she huffed, lips curling into a tiny, playful smile. He mimicked, though much, much larger.
"I wish I could remember more," he told her, rubbing away the final specks of red and tossing the paper towels into the trash. "I feel kind of bad about it."
"There's no reason to," she told him. "I've forgotten plenty before. Just be grateful you didn't vomit everywhere."
Armin laughed. "Did that happen to you?"
Annie chewed her bottom lip, nodding slowly. "Yes. But only once."
The blonde couldn't help but laugh. He covered his mouth. "Sorry."
"To be honest," she began through gritted teeth, "I wish you could remember, too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Her feet slid forward. He stumbled back a bit. She grinned, maliciously. The bored expression was gone, replaced by amusement. "You're afraid of me."
"N-no."
"A lot of people are."
"W-well," Armin stole himself, stole his shaking body. He had overlooked the fact that they were alone in a bathroom before, but that small detail was making itself known very quickly. "I'm not."
Annie's eyes roamed over him, sizing him up. Her mind was calculating, and, despite calculations being the blonde boy's forte, he was floundering. "You want me to tell you what happened on Friday?"
Armin didn't speak. She took another step forward. He shook. He held his breath. She was so small, so intimidating.
Annie's fingers snuck up his shirt, her finger hooking in his collar. "Well, do you?"
He made a tiny noise, nodding his head. The heat seeped into his beet-red cheeks. She smirked, tugging hard on his collar.
Armin yelped, the sound abruptly cut off by a crushing pair of lips on his own.
The kiss was messy. It tasted of metal and salt and cigarette smoke, of anticipation and expressed desire.
Armin had never kissed a girl before. It was unexplored territory. Her body was suddenly foreign, an uncharted island for him to explore.
Slowly, he pressed into in, shaky hands sliding up her bare arms, over her thick shirt straps. He brushed aside her fringe, cupping her heated cheek in his palm.
They parted for air for only a moment. It was only when they had separated that Armin felt the impact. The absence she left in her wake. It made his stomach stir, his mind blur.
She found his mouth again instantly. This was more fervent, more needy. Armin backed up, his body pressing against the cold wall. He shivered against the tiles, the tingle shooting up his spine.
He studied her as she moved and attempted to match the way her lips parted, roaming over his own. He captured her bottom lip in between his, his teeth lightly scraping hers. She took it as a challenge, an invitation. As she pushed him harder against the wall, he gulped. Her eyes were so intense. Scary, but unguarded.
The word tumbled out of his mouth and he smiled nervously. "H-hi."
She bent down, placing a kiss on his neck. Armin tensed up. "Shut up, Arlert."
He laughed anxiously.
The bell outside the bathroom tolled.
She took a step back.
"Still think skipping is bad?"
Armin said nothing. He merely stayed plastered to the wall, afraid to move, afraid to speak.
Annie smirked, pushing out into the hallway.
So, what'd you guys think? Im sorry about the delays. Now that I'm home and out of school, things should be picking up...I hope. ^_^
Peace, L.