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Chapter Text

Friday, August 2nd, 1989
Paradis State University
Home of the Titans

Thinking Like A New Man: Studies on Male Psychology, by some Eldian author you can't pronounce the name of, says the way to tell if a heart has been broken is by several physical symptoms the human body portrays. Low sex drive, mood swings, rash decision-making, alcoholism, addiction, all that fun stuff.

In the book's margins of the copy you rented from the school library, an anonymous vandalizer describes heartbreak as "an emptiness so profound, it's physically painful."

Granted, most of the data studied by you and the four female cohorts in the psychology major at Paradis State University are heavily done on men, by men, for men.

But even after all your extensive research, no studies can explain what heartbreak is supposed to feel like for you when you're standing in the doorway of your ex-boyfriend's dorm room while some wanna-be Barbie pretends she knows how to save a horse and ride a cowboy.

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

Ladies and gentlemen, Liberio Air would like to welcome you to the wonderful Paradis. The local time is 7:20 p.m. The weather is 78 degrees with minimal clouds, and if you take the tram to the arrivals terminal, you might get lucky enough to catch a glimpse of that beautiful Paradis sunset. Checked baggage can be found at Gate 3B shortly after deboarding. We thank you for choosing to fly with us today.

Finally, you are home – actually home. After spending the last two months of your summer in your family's lakeside cabin deep in Marley with your parents and crazy extended relatives, you were ready to be alone.

No more hounding parents, rampant children, or nagging aunts. No more sharing bunks with your cousins or faking a smile for grandma every morning. No more fighting with your cousin about who gets to use the telephone or who takes the first warm shower of the night. No more eating your uncle's soggy eggs or helping your dad pull weeds from the gutter.

Alas, you are a free woman!

Seatbelts click to unlock the moment the plane stops at the gate. Passengers begin prematurely standing and pulling their luggage down from the overheads despite the staff insisting they sit until the plane is ready to begin unloading.

In Paradis, beautiful summer nights like this one were perfect for gathering friends and family together for drinks with the stereo playing the hottest soundtracks of the season – something which you were excited to do with your friends after you've spent the next few days in solitude.

For you, there is no rush to get home — you're patient. You had the rest of the night to head home and snuggle up in your bed, grab a good book and maybe a glass of wine, and fall asleep before 10 p.m.

You sigh softly from your seat at the very back of the plane and press your heels to your eyes, rubbing away your sleepiness. You don't bother moving; you're going to be stuck for a while as everyone ahead of you deboards.

But it doesn't stop you from bouncing your leg or chewing on your cheek. Sitting still for so long didn't do well for you. You look up to the rest of the plane. The aisle is filled with passengers trying to take down their luggage from the overhead and push past people blocking their path. And you do not want to get in the middle of that.

A cold hand on your forearm rips you away from the sight. The elderly woman who had used your shoulder as a pillow for the last hour and twenty of the flight smiles warmly.

"My, you're an anxious one," she teases. You settle back into your seat. "In a rush?"

"Oh, no," you grace her with a smile of your own. "Just excited to be home."

She tilts her head in a way that reminds you of a baby bird, "Visiting family?"

"Returning. I just spent the last two months with them," you wince and she takes the hint – crazy families aren't exclusive.

"Oh, well! Aren't you glad you're back?" Her eyes soften, "I'm here to see my grandchildren before they head back to school."

"They must be excited for you to visit."

It certainly would have been nice if your parents could have visited you this time around, but you're not particularly prepared to accommodate extra guests in your rented townhouse with two other roommates.

"I sure hope so," she gives you a playful smile.

You look to the aisle again – still no change. You blow air through your pursed lips and your baby hairs fly out of your face.

The plane door swings open, letting in the cool summer draft of Paradis.

Up north in Marley, you were stuck with bipolar weather. Summer rain storms before a scorching sunny day. You couldn't even open the window without worrying about a tree in the storm staking you to the wall in your sleep or being sucked up by mosquitos like a juice pouch. It feels good to be back in good old Paradis — where the skies were limitless, and the weather was perfect year-round.

The kind woman next to you hums pleasantly as the dwindling sunlight creeps in.

Bringing back the small talk, she looks at you with a cute, tight-lipped smile, "Hopefully they don't take too long unloading everyone. I'm sure you have plans now that you're finally back in town."

"I do," you return the gesture. Warmth flares on your cheeks and your heart flutters at your plans. "I'm going to surprise my boyfriend."

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

Dragging your two suitcases up three flights of stairs, you finally made it to the dorms at Paradis State University. Your legs hurt, but your ass hurts more from sitting down so long. You can't wait to lay in your bed, your boyfriend's bed, or any bed, whatever you choose, and clock out like a light.

Okay, maybe you wouldn't be in complete loneliness, but after only talking to your boyfriend on the phone and in weekly letters, you were ready to interrupt his loneliness with yours.

Standing in front of his dorm room, excited to be home, you bring your hand up to knock softly and wait for a response.

Not a single sound comes from behind the door. So you knock again, a little louder this time.

Someone behind the door grunts, loudly, signaling that maybe he's coming to the door. You feel yourself getting anxious by the minute. A few moments pass, and it remains locked.

You huff, your face crumbling in frustration. You're about to bang on the door again when someone startles you.

"Can I help you?"

Catching your breath, you whip your head toward the deep voice. Bright green eyes are the first thing you see. A mop of dark brown hair cascades down his face in thick straight locks. As the male strides toward you, he pulls off his headphones from his ears and begins wrapping them around his Walkman.

You scan his body further – typical gym attire with a ragged black tee with black and red basketball shorts, hugging the curves and dips of his hamstrings. Black and white sneakers make their way over to you, and you tear your ogling eyes away from his body to look at his face. He pulls out a hair tie as he strides over, combing his hair back from his face into a bun at the back of his head.

"Yeah," you breathe, "I'm here to see Reiner." Your eyes follow him up to the door.

After tightening the bun, he shoves his hands into his pockets and feels around for his keys. "Does he know you're here?"

"No," you answer as you back away. He side-steps between you and the door.

Since Bertoldt had left PSU to study abroad in Hizuru, a vacancy had opened up in Reiner's dorm. It had been swiped up before any of his friends could get the chance to claim it.

This must be the new roommate. Not that you had a problem either way. You weren't too upset about Bertoldt's leave – you two were rarely in the same space for too long. The guy only talked to you if he was leaving the dorm at the same time you were arriving.

After flipping through the keys on the ring, he shoves it into the hole. You side-glance at him as he wiggles the key for it to unlock. You observe his neatly crafted facial features–his threaded brows, the subtle tensing of his jaw, the moistness of his lips. Finally, the door clicks, distracting you from the sight as he swings the door open. It slams against its hinges and announces your presence.

"Oh my fucking god."

On the bed to the left lay your boyfriend Reiner. And on top of him, a shirtless and obnoxiously high-pitched ash-blonde girl, swaying her hips like she knows what she's doing. Unfortunately, she doesn't.

That tracks – his lazy ass was always on the bottom when you two had sex.

Reiner sees his roommate first, eyes growing wide. Then, he sees you, and they turn to light brown saucers. He curses into oblivion and immediately reaches for the off-white sheets bunched at his feet, pulling the girl down with him.

"Y-you're here early," Reiner announces in shock.

The blonde eventually picks up what's happening when the roommate shouts in a deep commanding voice.

"Put a fucking sock on the door next time, you sick voyeuristic fuck," his roommate stomps inside his dorm room. He couldn't care less about what they were doing, he cared more about the decency of walking into his place and not getting flashed. You don't blame him.

Reiner reaches for the stereo on the desk next to him and smashes his fist against the play button. It shuts off the sound of unrecognizable music playing softly in the background.

How romantic of him – anytime you tried to do that, he claimed it was too cheesy.

The roommate stops in place and darts his head at him, "Are you getting it on to fucking Michael Jackson?"

You're still trying to come across what you're seeing despite the very obvious betrayal in front of you. The last three months you spent posting back and forth with him, paying your parent's money to get extra time on the phone when he would call the cabin for you, and anticipating the time when you would finally come home and climb into his arms felt like a waste of your time.

Today — this was the day you were waiting for. And it just became the worst day you can think of.

Even while the blonde tries to cover herself with the flimsy bed sheets, you still can't believe what you are seeing. The emotions don't register in your head yet. No amount of studying you've done for your major – analyzing the mind to the grooves of the brain, trying to decipher emotions for others better than you can for yourself – none of it makes sense.

The 'I miss you's, the love letters, the handwritten poems. What did they all mean if this is what they led you to?

You go to step inside the room, unfazed by the lack of clothes they have. You kick away the bralette lying on the floor near your foot and the girl grabs it from the ground where it lands as if she feels bad for her nudity now that she's put on the spot.

With a look of fury, you dart your head to Reiner. "You cheated on me?"

He has nothing to say.

The blonde jerks her head to him, "I thought you said you broke up with her last week."

Reiner's face crumples in disgust, "I wasn't going to break up with her through the mail, or over the phone."

The roommate whips his head to you with eyes of sympathy. His eyebrows furrow in frustration as he looks to Reiner and shakes his head, "Fucking Christ Reiner, really?"

"Stay the fuck out of it, Jaeger," Reiner snaps.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman-ly," you scoff, raging emotions turning your vision blurry. "Had the decency to break up with me in person, but couldn't wait that long to get your dick wet?"

The blonde steps up to defend herself, "I had no idea—"

"Shut it, off-brand Barbie," you growl, although the look on her face almost makes you feel bad for her.

Then you remember that she was just riding your boyfriend, despite him calling you two days ago and saying how much he couldn't wait to see you. She's an accomplice.

You look back to Reiner, "We're through, Reiner. I don't want to see or hear from you ever again."

Embarrassment turns to anger on his face, "Fine. Not a problem. Not like I'm missing out on much with you anyway, bitch."

The roommate, Jaeger, steps toward Reiner and shoves his finger in his direction, "Shut your fucking mouth, Reiner, and learn some damn respect."

You appreciate his efforts to mend the situation for you, but you don't care anymore. Nothing is more disrespectful than this.

"I don't want to hear it from you, speedy," you quip.

Jaeger snorts, and for a moment, pride swells in your chest. Before anger and embarrassment and sadness and all the ugly emotions you hate feeling start to creep in. You pivot away from the scene and march out with your favorite hand gesture flying in the air. When you meet your suitcases, you immediately start heading down the hall to the stairs. You're dreading having to call another taxi to take you back home, but obviously, you were not staying here. Waste of a damn trip.

Before you begin your struggle to descend the stairs, rapid footsteps head in your direction. You turn back to see Jaeger jogging down the hallway to meet you.

"Wait," he huffs, combing back the loose hairs that fell from his bun back with the rest, "Let me help you carry your stuff down."

You look up and down at him, the frustration apparent on your face. But when he offers his hand out to take them from you, you oblige.

His voice echoes in the stairwell as you scale down the stairs.

"I had no idea he had a girlfriend." He states without struggle as he carries the handles of your suitcases on either side of him.

"Not a clue?" You follow behind him.

"I transferred from Shiganshina Community College last week. I just moved in," he starts. "When I saw him on the phone in the lobby late at night, I thought it was her. He would sneak her in after I left for the gym, and back out when I would return. It wasn't any of my business, so I never questioned it."

You make it to the bottom floor and exit out into the courtyard. It's already dark out, an onyx blanket cast over the sky with a sprinkling of stars. The streetlights illuminate the front of the dormitories, and sprinklers trickle on in the distance. He sets your suitcases down on the sidewalk, wheels down.

"After living with him for the last week, I don't think you're missing much. He's a slob and refuses to shower after the gym. Says his body 'naturally deodorizes itself'."

You can't help the shudder that rolls down your body. You're lucky you missed that phase. You give Jaeger your best faux chuckle, but frankly, you're tired and hurt, and honestly, a little hungry. He can see right through you.

He gestures around to the accompanying buildings. "Which dorm are you at?"

"Oh, I'm in a townhouse off of 13th and Sina St." You nod your head in the opposite direction.

"Got a ride?"

"I was hoping he would be my ride..."

He puts his hands on his hips and shrugs his shoulders, "Can I give you a ride home then? It's the least I can do after all of... that."

"I'd appreciate that."

"I'm Eren, by the way," he extends his hand, and you smile down at it. You take it in your hand after giving him your name and a solid shake.

When he pulls back, he grabs both your suitcases again and drags them down the sidewalk to where you assume his car would be parked.

You follow closely behind, "Sorry for being so rash with you, Eren. I just feel..." You don't know how to feel about this, "... blah."

Eren blows raspberries, "I would feel the same way. But to be honest, you seem to be taking this a lot better than I thought." He glances at you as you try to keep up with his long-legged strides.

You shrug, "We were only together 3 months."

"Regardless, he's an asshole."

"You live with him."

"I put up with him," Eren corrects.

"I guess I put up with him too." You look down at your feet and kick a stray rock that found its way on the sidewalk. "I realize now he wasn't exactly Prince Charming."

"No kidding," he mumbles, before stopping you at one of the cars parked on the side of the curb.

Ten minutes and a few missed turns later, you arrive in front of your townhouse. None of the lights in the front room are on, and the porch is dark. It is a Friday night, and Friday nights during the summer meant no work, no school, and no remembering where you were or what happened that night when you woke up the next morning. It was like a designated holiday at PSU, and the one way to celebrate was to either party, drink, smoke, or break the law. But your roommates always choose the former of the options, leaving the house to silent hallows. And you were missing out on all the fun.

When Eren notices you staring at the empty house a little too long, he breaks the silence, "Any girlfriends you could go out with tonight to do a little drink-to-forget?"

"I think they went out for the night," you confess. "I came home unannounced."

What was supposed to be a surprise for your boyfriend had turned into what will be a lonely night for you.

"Do you want to come to this party tonight?" He tests, "Might keep your mind off of what happened instead of sulking in your room. Or maybe you'll find someone to help keep your mind off of it. Who knows, maybe they'll lose to Reiner's world record." Eren teases with a sly smile curling on his lips. You laugh.

A party would be a nice distraction.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." You nod, and Eren is already on the move to his glove box.

He drops it and pulls out a napkin and a pen. You watch him scribble an address onto the napkin before handing it to you. You look into the address a little more and come to recognize it as the SNK fraternity house.

You haven't been inside the house yourself, but you've heard the horror stories of those who reside in SNK. It was home to men who feared commitment and sobriety. But they threw parties that people would talk about for years to come – when they're old and turning gray, alumni would remember their time as students and party animals at one of the most elite schools in the state.

You climb out of the car, walk toward the backseat, and pull out both of your suitcases from the back. You close the door and are ready to head up to the front of your house before Eren stops you.

"Hey," he calls from the rolled-down window.

You turn back, wondering what else he might have to say, "Yeah?"

Eren bites his lip, finally answering, "Reiner's a shitbag whose head's so far up his ass, he can't see what he's missing out on. I'm sorry that it took you walking in on him cheating to find that out."

He's right. After the last three months, two of which were long distance, walking in on him with that girl was like taking off your rose-colored glasses. And hey, looks like you made a new friend out of this situation!

"Thanks, Eren." You smile wider and watch as he returns the gesture before pulling away from the curb and driving down the long, tree-lined street.

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

You head out to the party an hour after arriving at your house.

The walk there is enjoyable. The weather at night is comfortable and to stretch your legs in the beauty of your college neighborhood was nice. Especially after sitting in a plane for three hours, in a taxi for another hour, and then in an Eren's car for ten minutes. Even the ten minutes on your ass was unbearable. But it's okay because you had a feeling you were going to be standing up for a long time the moment you walked in.

You can tell which house holds the party by the excessive sounds vibrating from across the lawn, and the lights flashing out of the front room windows, mocking those on a police car. You walk up the steps to the porch and stride to the front door. You hesitate to knock, but bite the bullet and bang your fist on the bright red door three solid times, loud enough for someone on the other side to hear. After a quick second, it swings open, revealing a tall, older-looking blond man.

At first, his eyes are unrecognizable due to the glint from his glasses. But when he leans in to inspect your figure, you feel him scrutinizing you head to toe with his stormy blue, bloodshot eyes.

After thorough inspection, he leans back and brings his beer bottle into view.

"Where's your booze?"

You look at him a little harder.

He looks at you dumbfounded.

"Your drink?" He says slower as if you didn't hear the first time.

You shake your head.

The blond taps his beer bottle against the door. Pinned to the surface, there's a sign with very poor handwriting, which reads: BRING UR OWN BOOZE OR SHOW UR BOOBZ. You look at the sign, startled by the message, and dart your attention to the man at the door in disgust. And back at the sign again to confirm it's real. Yep, it's real.

Eren must have forgotten to mention there's a boob tax at the door.

"Well?" The blond raises an eyebrow, mischief laced in his stare.

You must have been stammering like a gaping fish until Eren bounces to the door.

"You made it!" He beams, light-hearted and looser than he was before.

You smile shyly at him and nod your head to the sign on the door, "Yeah. Uh, little help here?"

Eren's attention darts from you to the sign. His face drops as he glares at the other male. "Zeke, I told you to take that shit down. Sick bastard."

The blond, Zeke, crosses his arms and shrugs. "My house, my rules, little brother."

Eren rips the sign down from the door and crumbles it into a ball, tossing it at his brother's face. Zeke tries to fight it or catch it, but it lands somewhere behind the door and out of sight. Eren extends his hand and you don't hesitate to take it. He tugs you through the threshold, ripping you from the fresh summer air and dragging you into the tainted, and most likely contaminated, party atmosphere, immersed in flashing lights and techno music. He wraps his arm over your shoulder and walks you through the crowd, sheltering you under his wing.

"Sorry about him," he murmurs as you two walk side-by-side, hip-to-hip. Your footsteps sync together in a satisfying cadence. "My brother doesn't have a clue on how to talk to girls, so he just..."

"Objectifies them?"

You look up to him. Heat blooms in your cheeks when you realize how close your faces are.

"I have nothing to do with his activities. I am just unfortunate enough to be related to him."

Eren guides you through the house, past the coffee table turned beer pong tournament and the people standing groin to groin in front of the stereo playing Depeche Mode in the corner of the room. You push through the people leaving the kitchen, cheerful and sloppily wiping their mouths with a new drink in hand or juggling shot glasses with their fingers like drunken magicians.

He leans down to mutter in your ear, "Would you like something to drink? We have beer, tequila, vodka, whiskey, and gin. I can make you a Long Island? Gin and Coke? Vodka Cranberry?"

"Yes, please," you smile. "A Long Island sounds great."

He slowly moves his arm from over your shoulder, his hands brushing over your back, "Coming right up."

Eren leaves your side to go to the countertop where an array of liquors, juices, mixers, and sodas line the surface. There are handfuls of unnamed red Solo cups scattered in the kitchen and beer bottles crowded in the sink. You stand by Eren's side to stay away from the groups of people threading through as he whips up concoctions of drinks. You go to place your hand down on the counter, but immediately regret it when it lands into a pool of stickiness. You dust your hand on your jeans and go back to watching Eren.

"Are you a part of SNK?" You break into small talk.

"Fuck no," Eren finishes pouring two more shots of some alcohol you couldn't read your drink. He gives it a good stir with a mixing spoon before sliding it to you. "Frat's aren't my thing. Their parties, though? That's different."

You take a sip of your Long Island and feel the burn as the clash of liquors slide down your throat and the rush of alcohol hits your system. You must be making a face, because Eren looks at you with a lopsided smile.

"Too much liquor?"

You cough, "Mama didn't raise no bitch."

He laughs, loud and vibrant. "Atta girl," he says low and proud, "You can take it."

Alcohol in your system or not, the words are enough to cause the heat to resurface on your face. Eren pulls out three more Solo cups from the clean stack, reaches for the beer keg pushed against the wall next to the counter, and tugs on the nozzle. He slides one underneath and the golden ale fizzles into the cup.

"Who are those for?"

You take a smaller sip from your drink this time and the alcohol-to-drink ratio is more tolerable the less you take in.

"My friends." When the foam pours over the top, he replaces it with an empty cup and starts filling that one. "We've got a bonfire with s'mores going on in the backyard."

S'mores sound amazing right now. Undeniably, that was your nightly craving at the cabin with your family. You and your cousin, Colt, were always on the s'mores duty – filing the littles into your aunt's minivan and making the trip down the hill to the convenience store for the ingredients and more booze for the week. You couldn't grow tired of them.

"Are you sure it's okay that I'm crashing your friend group tonight?" You ask, "I don't know where mine are at."

"Of course," he nods without hesitation. "They're chill. As long as you can handle a little crazy."

"I like a little crazy."

With three very full Solo cups of beer, you and Eren set out for the backyard. You navigate around the dining table where an intense game of Rage Cage has commenced. As you pass by, a few shouts targeted toward Eren drift your gaze to the crowd. Eren replies with nonchalance, a casual, "What's up, man?", or very limitedly, "Let's take a shot together!" as you squeeze through the crowded dining room. When you make it to the sliding glass door, the fire from outside has already illuminated the growing darkness.

Eren jerks his chin to the door, "Can you get that for me, please?"

You nod and slide the door open for him. You step out behind him and are immediately transported to the crisp night of Paradis. You missed this — beautiful summer nights in the place you loved most.

"Yo, I'm back," he calls out to the crowd sitting by the fire pit.

"Took you long enough," someone tsks. A familiar voice.

Then you hear your name being screamed at full volume. You recognize that voice right away and lock eyes with the beautiful brunette sitting center of the circle around the fire.

"Sasha!"

Sasha pushes past her friends, shoving their knees in awkward directions and trampling over feet and drinks around the fire pit to get to you. As soon as her arms make their way to you, she squeezes all of the air from your lungs in a tight bear hug. You stumble back, spilling a little of your drink as you try to do the same. You squeeze in close to her and take in the scent of her vanilla shampoo tainted by the smell of ash and bonfire.

"I missed you so much!"

You almost think she's gonna cry with how scratchy her voice sounds. If she starts to cry, you might cry too. But it's completely valid. Two months away from your best friend with very little communication was hard on both of you. You went from being inseparable to being in two different states.

"I miss you too," you tell her in her ear.

She pulls back from you and goes to cup your face in her hot hands, "You have no idea. These boys drove me insane while you were gone."

"Hey!" Comes from the culprits – Connie and Jean sitting by the fire.

You laugh with her, your foreheads nearly touching. Sasha looks at you with her sparkling woody-colored eyes and scans your face. She pulls back, her hands clasping on your shoulders and sliding down your arms as her gaze rakes over your body.

"Something about you is different!" She exclaims, "What's changed? Did you dye your hair? Get tattoos? What is it?"

You laugh, "I don't know. Maybe it was the lake water?"

"Yo, that's some loch-ness monster shit," Connie snickers.

Sasha snaps back at him before you can respond, "Shut the fuck up and drink your piss water, Constance. We're having a moment."

You whip your attention from her to the others sitting by the fire. Eren is handing a cup to Connie, then stretching past him and handing one to Jean. Besides the unfamiliar blond with glasses sitting beside Connie wrapped tightly in a flannel two-sizes too big, and the freckled-face boy beside Jean, your dearest friends were here. And you couldn't be any happier. This was home.

Sasha steps away to give you an inch of space, "It seems you've met Eren already. Have you met Armin or Marco?"

You shake your head. She gestures her hands to the blond sitting beside Eren, "This is Armin." She moves to the freckle-faced boy who's sitting next to where Jean is sitting, "And Marco. Both good friends from high school." She presents you to them as if her prized possession. "This is my best friend I was telling you all about." Your heart warms at her welcome.

Both boys give you a wave and a very gentle 'hi'. They seem to be the more tame, calm friends of the group. Connie, Sasha, and Jean were always the more outgoing of your bunch, now including Eren, a coincidence you never thought of before.

As Sasha walks back toward her spot next to Connie, Jean takes her place by your side. He graces you with a warm smile, and you notice how the fire must have given his cheeks a dusting of pink. It also compliments his eyes, turning the light sandy brown into rich droplets of honey. He opens his arms to you as an invitation.

"Hey, stranger," he says softly.

"Jean," you grin up at him and let his long arms pull you into a tight hug.

He squeezes you in tight to his chest and rests his chin on the top of your head. When you start to pull back, he gives you the same inspection that Sasha did, except he took longer to figure out what has changed with you. Until he takes his hand to your face and brushes it through your hair.

"Sasha was right – you did change. What's your secret?" He chuckles.

"I told you. Lake water."

He nods his head in the direction of the fire pit. "You can take my spot next to Sasha."

You make your way over to the fire, feeling the warmth pass over your legs as you slide into your given spot. Marco gives you a tiny wave as you pass by, and you reciprocate the gesture, unsure of what to say. It's been so long since you've seen your best friends that you're not even sure what to say to them. Where do you even start?

The conversation carries on as if uninterrupted. After you sit down and get comfortable with your drink, you look toward Jean and watch as the fire dances in his eyes.

"I missed you," you told him.

The reaction on his face is adorable, "You missed little ol' me?"

You blow raspberries, "Yeah, who else was I supposed to study psychology with? Had to do it with my cousin Colt. Blegh." No offense to Colt, but he was the goody-goody of your family.

"Summer studying?" Jean asks in surprise. "You didn't get any breaks, did you?"

"Nope," you pop the P and bring your cup to your lips to drink, "My parents worked me to the bone."

Jean shakes his head, "You poor thing..." He looks at your face and ponders for a moment before he sighs in satisfaction, his hand comes down to the top of your head. "A-ha! That's what's different with you. All that studying made your head bigger!"

You wave your hand at his teasing, "Hey! I don't want to hear it from you, horseface." You smile when you find his face growing rosier.

"Okay, okay," he eases and helps you flatten your hair back down, "You do anything fun?"

You curl your hair behind your ears when it's back in place. You hum, "Define fun."

"Well, did you do anything for you?"

You trace through the memories of your summer – and the handful of fights you had with your parents over the C's on your transcript. You tried. You truly did! But no matter how much money your parents donated to the university, none of it changed how terrible you were at school. The one thing, your parents pushed you to be – a brilliant scholar, esteemed alumni, and golden child of the family. It just wasn't you.

But they pushed you anyway. While your family was by Lake Ymir, enjoying the sun and having fun by the crystal clear water, you were at the kitchen counter studying, trying to learn all the psych terminology you failed to remember during your spring semester until you had it memorized on the backs of your eyelids.

It was extensive and exhausting and downright cruel to be forced to study during the summer on top of your parents dragging you away from your friends. You shouldn't complain – to stay in a cabin by Lake Ymir would be any college student's dream if they didn't have to study in the off-season. The only peace you got was when you were able to kick all your cousins out and lock yourself in your room with the phone to call Reiner. Which now turned out to be a waste of your telephone minutes.

You make it look like you're thinking about it when really, you know the answer. "Sure, yeah. I caught up on the books I brought for the summer." Before your little cousin, Falco, hosed you and your books down with his water gun while you rested in the hammock.

"That's good. That's really good," Jean nods, seeming genuinely happy for you.

"Hellooo, I'm talking here, you two," Connie interrupts.

You look over to Connie, who leaned back against his foldable chair with his arms crossed, his Solo cup of beer in hand. He's got a sassy frown curled on his face as he waits for your acknowledgment.

"Sorry, Constanza. What were you saying?"

His frown grows, "I was talking about how I went surfing in Ragako in shark-infested waters, loch-ness girl."

"Wow," you give him your best, half-assed, surprised expression, "And you survived? I would've thought the shark would think you were a seal with how bald you are."

"Hey! I've been growing it out!" Connie grumbles, sticking a finger in your direction. He nods his head back to Eren sitting beside Armin with one hand in his pocket, "Next thing you know, I'll have long luscious locks like Eren here."

Eren chuckles, "Give it two years, and you'll get there."

Sasha butts in, "How do you plan on doing that? The moment your hair touches your ears, you get so tired of it you cut it off."

Connie shrugs his shoulders, "That's 'cause it itches!"

"Awh, Constance! Are you ticklish?" Sasha giggles. She makes cooing sounds to him as if she were holding a baby, and wiggles her finger near his ear.

Connie begins swatting his free hand at her like a cat, "Aye, Sash. Knock it off. You're acting like my mom."

"So," Armin interrupts the two, leaning forward to make eye contact with you from over the fire, "How do you and Eren know each other?"

You take in a deep breath, preparing yourself to answer. "About that," you wince, "He was there when I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me today. If it weren't for him, I probably would have waited outside the door until he was done with the other girl like some puppy."

There's a hushed murmur that overcomes the others sitting by the fire.

"Reiner what?" Sasha exclaims louder than you would have wanted her to.

"Sasha," you hiss in an attempt to shush her. But no doubt about it, she was the loudest one in any room, including outside.

"Shit. And just when I thought you found a good one," Connie grumbles. After two years of knowing him, Connie can be the most protective of your friends. If you called, he was there in a heartbeat with boxing gloves. And a bat. And backup.

"Do you know who it was?" Armin presses further, already intrigued by the conversation.

Eren seethes through his teeth before he answers for you, "Hitch."

Sasha gasps and whips her head to Eren, "Hitch? Like, Marlowe's Hitch?"

He nods, "Yep."

"Wow, double the cheaters," your best friend shakes her head in disbelief, "Seems like they were made for each other."

You still weren't entirely familiar with all of the people Sasha, Connie, and Jean knew before coming to PSU. You had just met Eren, Armin, and Marco today after knowing the former three for the last two years. But at this point, you didn't care for the others – Marlowe, Hitch, Bertoldt, and whoever else was affiliated with Reiner like that.

"Hey, she's the one dealing with the sloppy seconds," you raise your hands as if they've been cleaned of the dirt of your old relationship. "And I mean it when I say seconds."

The group around the fire pit shares a laugh and you take another sip of your drink. As much as you want to downplay the entire situation, your gut still worms around in discomfort. The whole situation causes you to feel uneasy.

When it hushes down to the crackling of the fire and the ongoing party inside, you find the bottom of your cup. You've finished it quicker than expected, feeling the alcohol do its job of relaxing your nerves. As another conversation starts, you stand from the circle and gesture to get around Jean. He pushes his legs to the side and uses gentle hands to guide you around the fire, warm fingertips lingering in the thin material of your white tank top.

"Does anyone want more to drink?" You glance back at the crowd, but they're immersed in conversation again about whether there really are sharks on the coast of Ragako.

Eren smiles when your gaze catches his eyes, "I'll come with you."

You both walk toward the sliding glass door and Eren pushes it open for you. You make it inside, where the air is, once again, thicker and condensed with the smell of nicotine and yeast. You only make it a few steps in before Connie shouts through the open door.

"You're in the kitchen!"

You look back at him in confusion, then at Eren who stands before the threshold.

"What?"

"Entering the kitchen means you take a shot," he answers. When you're about to protest, he raises his hands in defense. "Another one of Zeke's rules. Unfortunately, I can't override this one."

"Alright, fine." You soften your gaze, "Will you take it with me?"

Eren looks between you and back at the bonfire. One glance back at you and he steps inside the kitchen without wasting another second. You smile when he comes to stand by your side. Eren sets his cup down beside yours as you file through bottles of liquor, scoping out what to take a shot of. You grab a hefty bottle of tequila by the neck and twist the cap off.

"I have to take two since earlier I skipped it to get the door for you," Eren announces.

You guesstimate the first shot you pour into his, "They're not going to remember."

He drags a finger over his heart in the shape of an X. "Scouts honor."

You roll your eyes and pour his second shot. You can't help the slippery giggle that comes from you, "Well, since it was my doing, I'll take one with you."

You pass Eren's cup to him and pour two shots of tequila into yours. You turn to him and hold your cup in the space between the two of you.

"What should we toast to?"

He twists his lips as he thinks, "Let's drink to forget, but never forget to drink."

You laugh, and Eren matches your smile, "That's your best one?"

"Fine," he raises his cup in the air, signaling the official toast, "Here's to cheating, stealing, and drinking." You furrow your eyebrows at him, but he saves himself from his poor choice of words, "May you cheat death, steal hearts, and always drink with me."

Now that's something you can cheer to.

Eren gives you a charming wink before you both bring the cup to your mouths and take in as much of the tequila as you can. You feel it burn its way down your throat and leave its bitter sting on your tongue. You shake your head, slamming your cup down and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Quite the toast."

Eren smirks, "A man can only steal so many from his older brother."

You share a laugh. You fill your drinks back to full, opting for a Gin and Coke this time instead of another Long Island, and Eren chooses beer again. You follow him back outside, and Sasha's eyes light up when you reappear. She stands from her seat and squeezes through the others again.

She bounces up to you, her thick ponytail swaying behind her head, "Wanna help me get some s'mores ready?"

"Sure."

At the table across from the fire pit, Sasha has already begun unboxing the graham cracker packs and breaking them into two sides on a spare paper plate. You put your drink down beside you, take the pack of Hershey's, peel the packaging off, and break those into pieces as well, placing them next to the crackers.

"Don't do it," Sasha says without stopping her motion.

You glance at her, watching her eyes trace over the graham crackers, "Don't do what?"

She looks in your direction, sternly catching your gaze, "I know that look in your eyes."

You play dumb, "What look?"

"Don't sleep with Eren," she scolds.

"What?" You laugh, "Sasha, what are you talking about?"

"You have been making these 'Fuck Me, I'm Emotionally Vulnerable' eyes at him since you both got here!"

"Okay, but... he was making those eyes at me first." You tease.

She groans, and puts the graham crackers down, stopping to turn to you. The moment she puts food down is the moment you know she's getting serious. "Of course he was! That dumbass is always using the wrong head!"

"Sasha."

"Trust me," she states sharply, "I know you just met him, and he seems like a super sweet guy, but I've known him as long as I've known the rest of these guys. We've been friends since high school. Do not do it."

Not only was her insistence a reminder that you were still a baby to the friend group, but it was also a reminder that they will always always come first. You don't want to replace anyone in any way, shape, or form, but for once, it'd be nice to have been that friend that someone knows like your life story is written on the back of their hand.

"Why?"

"Eren preys on girls with broken hearts!" Sasha whisper-shouts, "He eats them for breakfast, and he'll drink your tears like coffee in the morning. And news flash! You're the hottest thing on the menu right now!"

You chuckle, "I think you're exaggerating."

"I'm not. I know what he does. I know the type of person Eren is." She sighs heavily and reaches her arms out to your shoulders, "I love you, okay? I'm saying this because I don't want you to get hurt."

And now you feel like you're standing in front of your parents at the cabin, being grilled about how the money they've donated to PSU will be a waste if you don't excel and live in the legacy of your family name. As if you don't know how to take care of yourself.

Yes, you may have had life served to you on a silver platter, but that doesn't mean you don't know what it means to struggle. You know how to take care of yourself.

Except for this tiny little slip-up with Reiner. Unfortunately, not even mommy and daddy's money could make that struggle disappear.

"Again," you remind her painfully.

"Again," Sasha parrots, and her eyes take on a saddened look. "Two broken hearts don't negate each other."

You throw your hands up in defense, "I don't know what you're expecting from me. I'm not just going to fling myself on to him like some piece of fuckable meat. Besides, he's Reiner's roommate!" Although the thought of turning the tables on Reiner doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

"I know you were really starting to like Reiner and he fucked it all up with his stupid dick brain. But now, this little eye candy came slithering his way in like the hero you want him to be, but he's not. It's all for his own selfish gain. I just don't want you to fall for it."

With reason, Sasha's right. Eren was there firsthand to see what you went through and the emotions you couldn't register. Maybe he's getting cozy with you because he knows your walls are down and you're ready to fire back.

"I know," you huff.

"Just don't do anything stupid," Sasha begs, "Please."

Your head rolls back as you look up at the starry night sky, "God, you sound like my parents." You huff and look back down at her with a more serious look. "Yes, mother dearest, I won't do anything stupid."

Tonight. But Sasha doesn't need to hear that.

"Thank you," she says and plates a marshmallow on top of the graham cracker and chocolate combo. She shoves the plate in your face and shakes it side to side, "Now eat. I know you haven't eaten yet."

You take it from her hand and pick around at the pre-made s'more until you get the chocolate, taking a tiny bite out of the corner. "Thank you, Sasha."

She smiles softly and leans her forehead to yours. "Reiner really fucked up. If you were mine, I wouldn't have ever done anything to jeopardize us."

You look up at her through your eyelashes, and she does the same, "Are we about to kiss?"

You both share a laugh before Connie weasels his way away from the bonfire to come and interrupt your love sesh with Sasha.

"Whatcha doing?" He looks around at the s'more ingredients laid out on the table.

"Making s'mores," you pass the plate to him. "You want one?"

Connie doesn't answer. Instead, he picks up the chocolate-free marshmallow and graham cracker sandwich and takes a large, obnoxious bite into it. Crumbs sprinkle onto his chin, luckily the plate catches most of it.

"Eat like a human, Connie, not an animal," Sasha tuts motherly.

Connie scoffs, and to mock Sasha's demands, he takes an itty bitty, little bite from the corner with his two front teeth.

"Better," she compliments.

He scoffs again, louder and more playful, and shoves the whole s'more in his mouth, "Sorry I was raised by men." He says with a mouthful of marshmallows and graham crackers.

"We can tell," you giggle and to confirm your suspicions, Connie wipes the crumbs from his fingers on his pants. You're surprised he didn't say his usual saying "Pants are just wearable napkins."

After filling the plate with pre-made s'mores, you and Sasha walk back to the bonfire. You carry the plate over and offer it to the group. People begin swiping them off the plate and finding the closest stick they can use to roast it.

Once Connie settles into his seat again, he reaches into the sleeve attached to his foldable chair and pulls out a deck of playing cards.

"Why don't we play a little drinking game?" He shakes the deck in his hand, "Get some more alcohol in our systems."

There's a shared agreement amongst the group.

"Beer?" Connie wiggles his eyebrows.

"We have beer, dumbass," Jean mutters from beside you.

You take a seat in your spot once people are satisfied with their marshmallows. You'll pass on playing a game with sticky hands, so you set the plate down on the ground underneath your seat.

"No, Beer: The Game."

"There's a game called Beer?" You ask before taking another swing of your drink. Your Gin and Coke are much more tolerable to drink in big gulps.

"I learned a new game over the summer with the other camp counselors," he grins cheekily. "Learned some other things too, but you'll have to get me more drunk if you want me to spill that tea."

You click your tongue to your teeth, "Ugh, you tease."

Connie slides the cards from the sleeve and sorts through them. "Let me sort through the cards and I'll show you."

From beside you, Jean reaches for the plate below your chair and brings it to his lap. "Want a s'more?"

Now that Jean's offering... "I would love one."

He stakes the marshmallow to his stick and inspects it by squinting at it, "How would you like it toasted?"

You bat your pretty eyelashes at him and smile, "My usual, please."

"So burnt?" His eyes slide to yours.

"The best way to eat it."

"How?" He jerks his head back and his lips curl in disgust, "All you taste is ash."

Your mouth drops as you go to defend yourself, "It's crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside. Who can complain about that?"

Sasha leans over into your vicinity to help you, "She's right, Jean-boy. It's the best combo of flavors."

He watches her closely as she shoves half of a s'more in her mouth and licks her fingers clean. The crispy, burnt edges make an audible crunch when she bites into it, and she smiles in satisfaction at Jean's reaction.

"Whatever," Jean says begrudgingly, but stick your marshmallow into the flames anyway. "Just tastes like charcoal to me."

"Alright, Beer," Connie announces as he shuffles the selected cards in the deck with ease. He makes it look like magic. Or maybe your train of focus is too impaired to notice his slip-ups. "Here's how to play: we just need numbers two through six, two Aces, two Jokers, two Queens, and two Kings. Your goal is to get the highest sum of the numbers on your cards, excluding the faces. If you get the highest sum out of everyone at the end of the game, you win. On your turn, your goal is to place down your lowest card to make someone drink and pull a higher card to up your sum or use one of your face cards to screw someone over. Everyone starts with six cards, and needs to keep six cards until the pull pile is gone."

Connie begins passing out the required number of cards to everyone except Armin, who just wants to observe, and you all start throwing questions at him.

"What do you get if you win?"

"You get to distribute the number of drinks you have to whoever you want that is playing. So if I have a sum of ten together, I can give everyone two drinks and they have to drink from their cup. Or, I can totally screw Eren over and give him all ten."

"Fuck off," Eren laughs and throws his arm out, "Why am I your target?"

"You're the most heavy-weight out of all of us." Connie says with a crooked smile, "You'll survive, big boy."

"What do the face cards do?" Marco chimes in.

"Ace is truth. Joker is Dare. Queen is Match-Maker, and King is Execution."

You ask, "What does the Queen card do?"

"You get to pick two victims and make them suck faces."

"And what's Execution?" Sasha follows up.

"You serve the King's punishment." Connie shares a shit-eating grin, "It can be anything – making them drink a bitch cup, strip and jump in the pool, call their ex, and get back together."

"Ouch, Con," you wince playfully.

Connie's eyes grow wide as he seethes through his teeth. "Sorry, Y/N. Too soon?"

You shake it off as everyone settles into their seats. While Jean finishes burning your marshmallow, you reach to the side of him and pull the side table over to the center in front of the pit. Connie stacks the draw pile there.

Jean pulls your charcoal marshmallow away from the fire and blows it out. He sandwiches it between the chocolate and graham cracker and slides it to you. You take a large bite, burning your lips in the process, but the moment the flavors melt in your mouth, you moan in delight. When he looks to you for approval, you give it to him with a smile pulling on your chipmunk cheeks. You finish your first s'more soon after your stack of cards lands in your lap.

"Please do not toss my cards in the fire. I'll go first." Connie says before he plays a three of spades and looks to Sasha.

When Sasha realizes the direction of the game, her eyes grow wide, "Wait, so I have to drink three times?"

"That's what the card means," Connie says dumbly.

Sasha scoffs, taking personal offense to the cards that have been dealt. "Ugh. Fine." She takes three tiny sips from her drink and pulls from her set to play a six of diamonds on top of the previous card.

"Sasha!" You look at her in surprise.

Connie slaps his hand to his face, "You're supposed to save your highest cards to win."

"All the cards I have are six!"

Everyone groans in unison.

"Okay, just ignore that she said that and hope she doesn't win." You're in the middle of taking your six drinks when Connie looks at you, "Your turn."

When you finish, you play your two of clubs. Jean clicks his tongue, takes his sips, and the game continues. Everyone drinks their share until Eren plays his Queen.

"All right, Constantine," Eren smirks, "Match-maker says kiss Sasha."

The two mentioned loudly gag.

"That's sick, Eren. She's like my sister."

Sasha just shudders at the thought. You laugh at her reaction.

Eren shrugs. Deviance is kind of a hot look on him. "You gonna kiss or drink...?"

Connie drinks reluctantly to his own game.

The game continues again until you play your Ace. You turn to look at Jean.

"Jean-boy," you coo teasingly.

"What are you planning, woman?" He asks warily.

"Who was your first love?" You say slowly, watching it register in his head.

Jean smirks proudly, "Easy. Mina from Mr. Berner's English class in the sixth grade."

"Not your first crush. First love," you press. "The first person that made you feel like you knew what it felt like to love someone."

"Okay, uh," Jean laughs awkwardly when he realizes he's on the spot. Eyes from all around the fire stare him down. He buckles under pressure. "You know what, pass," he drinks his due and files through which card he wants to play next.

Someone clears their throat from behind you, but you're not sure who did it. Instead, you move on to Jean's turn when he plays four of clubs. Marco takes his four sips and goes to play his Ace.

He looks around and thinks, "Uh, I'm not sure what to ask. I guess... Eren, when was the last time you had a girlfriend?"

You raise your eyebrow in intrigue and look over to the victim of Marco's card.

Eren shuffles through his cards, refusing to look up, "February."

There's a thick cloud of tension that passes over the group, but it's cut in half when Eren plays two of hearts on the table.

The game continues, pulling cards and assigning drinks to each other until it narrows down to the last card. Connie is the last to pull from the pile after placing his card down, a four of diamonds. Sasha downs her drink to the very last drop. In fact, most of the drinks around the fire pit have been finished off.

"All right, count your cards, fuckers." Connie grumbles as he falls back against the backrest of his seat, trying to hide his cards from Sasha, but flashing them to Armin in the process.

When everyone has finished counting, the highest number is eight, coming from Jean's stack. Everyone tosses their stacks onto the side table.

"Connie drinks five and Armin drinks three." Jean declares, slamming his stack on top of everyone else's in victory. He falls back lazily into his chair. You can tell the alcohol is finally hitting him.

"He's not even playing!" Sasha shouts.

"If it saves you fools from getting any more wasted, I'll do it," Armin agrees as he reaches for his bottle of water.

You're not sure if that counts as drinking per the rules of Beer, but the rule master is too preoccupied with his drink to call it.

You look at the stack Eren throws on the table when he stands up. Amongst the various number cards, there's a King card lying between. A lethal weapon he refused to use. Interesting.

Eren catches your attention from the cards with a quick whistle and jerks his head in the direction of the house. He mouths to you, "Drink?"

You don't hesitate to weave your way past the bonfire and your friend's knees until you are free. Eren slides the door open for you and you enter. The kitchen is empty when you slip in to look for a refill, Eren by your side.

"Kitchen!" You hear from somewhere near the dining room.

You look back at one another, but can't stop the smiles pulling on your faces.

Before filling up your cups with another cocktail, Eren finds new liquor to toast to.

"You come up with the toast this time," he says as he free-handedly pours your shot, overestimating it by a lot. The amount of drinks he's had himself has taken away his precision.

"Hm..." You close your eyes to think of one. When you open them again, toast in mind, you notice Eren is closer to you than he was when you first closed your eyes. Heat surfaces on your cheeks as his heavy-hooded eyes trace every detail of your face.

You raise your cup, "Shinzou wo sasageyo."

Eren laughs at the random change in tone, "What?"

"Dedicate your heart," you tell him with a smile.

"Wow, beautiful," he nods in amusement and raises his full cup. "Cheers to that."

You both clink your cups together and the liquid sloshes inside. Your drinks are in the air before the alcohol slides down your throat. You know you're getting too deep with each passing drink or shot when it goes down with ease. You don't even gag at the flavor this time.

Eren helps you fill up your drink with more Gin and Coke and you both find your way outside again.

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

Two more trips into the kitchen, one accidental, one purposeful, and your head is spinning. You've discarded your cards to the side table and shoved your second half-eaten s'more under your chair.

Now, you sit with your head in your hands as Connie, Sasha, Jean, and Armin shout next to you in a debate on whether human cloning, should it ever become possible, should be legalized or not. You fear for the few children Connie may spawn in the coming years. One more nudge to your shoulder from Sasha's exaggerated body expressions, and it might be the end of you. You feel a sudden bubbling sensation in your stomach, and that's when you know it's time to escape.

"I'm gonna step away," you mumble quickly before hiking through the legs next to the fire pit and speedwalking for the sliding glass door.

You pace through the kitchen, cross the crowded living room, and scale the stairs. You skip two steps at a time to make it to the top. There's a long hallway with multiple doors, some opened, some closed. You wish yourself luck when searching for the bathroom. You dart for the first one with the light on and are lucky to find the bathroom unoccupied. You slink inside, swinging the door shut behind you – just in time for the scorching bile to rise in your throat. You slam the toilet seat up and let everything go.

It's awful. The feeling of twisting and turning inside your gut, and the embarrassment that hits you like a truck when you realize someone has entered with you. They stoop down to your level and gently smooth a hand down your back. You don't have to look at him to recognize the voice.

"Are you okay?" Eren whispers.

You cough up what you pray will be the last of it and huff.

"I feel like my insides are twisting inside of me."

He hums, "S'mores aren't the best when paired with alcohol."

You shake your head and the sick feeling rises in your throat again. You throw your head over the seat and let it fall out, coughing in the process. You don't notice Eren scoot closer to your writhing body to sit next to you until his hand slides over your shoulder and scoops your hair in one grasp. He holds it back while you release all the toxins from inside your gut.

When you finally come to a stop, you try to catch your breath without looking in his direction.

"You don't have to," you can't stop the gag that comes out of you when you accidentally take a glimpse inside the bowl. "You don't have to stay for this."

"I know."

You whimper in embarrassment, "Why are you still here?"

He pauses for a moment before finishing, "No one else is."

Your throat closes as another wave rushes over you. Hot sweats exasperate from your skin and bead at your hairline. Eren acts quickly, his hand purchasing more of your hair and pulling it away from your face. You lean over the toilet seat again and throw up some more. Less comes out each time your gut pulses, until finally, finally, it feels like you've run out of things to throw up. Now you can stop embarrassing yourself.

Eren releases your hair when you rake a hand through it, brushing it away from your face. You reach for the flusher and turn away as it disappears down the toilet. You fall back to sit on your ankles and your shoulders slump.

"Sorry, airplane pretzels."

Eren laughs softly so he doesn't hurt your ears or fire up the pounding headache you're bound to have.

"You got any more in you?"

You shake your head, "I don't think so." You hope.

"You need to refill on fluids," he says softly as he reaches for the water bottle he brought with him. "The good kind. Small sips, please."

You take it from him with both hands. You don't listen to his suggestion, taking big swigs of the water to replenish yourself.

"Slow, slow," he commands, in that same soft tone.

When you've almost finished the water, you set it down on the ground away from you so you don't knock it over when you sit down on the cold tile and lean your back against the wall. You try to steady your breathing and feel every ache of your stomach muscles from being used today.

God, you were going to hate this in the morning.

You breathe, watching the hairs in front of your face blow away, "This is so..."

"So... what?" Eren tilts his head.

You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to hide from him while being out in the open, "So unsexy of me."

He chuckles, "Were you trying to be sexy before?"

"No, but I didn't want to be unsexy. No one likes unsexy."

"Sexy is selective," he says. "You don't want to be sexy all the time. It's exhausting."

You look in his direction and quirk an eyebrow, "Speaking from experience?"

He smiles and glances away with nonchalance, "Now that you mention it..."

A genuinely delusional laugh slips from your lips.

"This is nooot the best impression of me. I promise I can handle my liquor better," you sigh heavily.

"I think you're doing just fine. It's been a long day, anyway."

You squeeze your eyes shut again and pout, "You're required to say that; I'm inebriated and emotionally overwhelmed."

There is a beat of silence that takes up the bathroom.

When nothing comes from Eren, you peek an eye open to look at him. He extends his hand out to you, just like he did hours ago. A smile, a pure-hearted smile tugs on his lips, "Hi, I'm Eren. It's nice to meet you."

You shake your head and laugh, but reach for his hand anyway. You give it a firm grasp, feeling the texture of his hand in yours. It was cold, which contradicted the clamminess of your own. You don't doubt that your hand likely feels as gross as you do right now.

You play into his scheme by giving him your name again.

Eren takes his hand back and falls onto his bottom, crossing his legs over one another.

"What brings you to this side of town?"

"Well," you start, a small smile playing on your lips, "this really nice guy I met before I found out my ex-boyfriend cheated on me invited me out tonight to try and forget about him, but I think it just made me remember him even more."

He hums in acknowledgment, "What made you remember him?"

"Other than him cheating on me five hours ago," you wave your hands around, gesturing to the entirety surrounding you, "All of this. Going to parties, showing me off to his friends, becoming friends with his friends."

"And how does that make you feel?"

You pause to think of the right words, "Really fucking shitty." Your voice drops before you continue. There's a knot forming in your throat. Not from your queasiness, or from the alcohol. Something else. "I feel like I never really belong anywhere. So when I get invited to parties, and I have to do the 'hi, I'm blah blah blah' bit, I feel like I'm just another name to get carded in the filing cabinet. I feel like I'm here, but I'm see-through... Like I'm a placeholder for someone better to come."

Tears blur your vision and you blink them away the best you can. But they slowly fall down your face, evidence of your weakness.

Eren looks at you a little longer, as if trying to read what answer to give you based on the look in your eyes. But you refuse to make eye contact with him after just puking your guts out in front of him.

How embarrassing. All of it. Every single thing you've done today.

"And... it feels so weird being back here and seeing everyone so close together. Like time hadn't passed, and yet, I'm still stuck in May before I left." You dart your head to him and gesture to him with your hands, "And you! You just came back after two years, and it's like you've been here this entire time. They love you."

Eren murmurs, "Sasha might disagree."

You go to wipe away the tears, "I know it seemed like I was handling this whole 'being cheated on' thing, but this really fucking sucks." You can hear how shaky your breath is when it falls from your lips, "I just want to feel like I belong... somewhere, to someone..."

"Trust me. I've known these guys for a while," Eren speaks softly. "We've seen friends come and go. But no one has stuck around like you have..." He leans his head in and watches you with a gentle look. One that makes all the bad feelings in your gut suddenly... disappear. "You belong."

You meet his gaze with reciprocated intensity. And to combat the fear of stupid mistakes and poor choices, you lean toward him as your eyes flutter shut. By the time Eren realizes what you're doing, he turns his head so your lips land on his cheek. You hold them there for a few seconds, letting his cold skin create chemistry with your hot lips. You pull back quicker than you leaned in and embarrassment strikes you like a fret train.

Great, just another thing for you to regret in the morning. Add it to the collection with the last three months of your life.

"I'm-I'm so sorry," you stammer. "I don't know what came over me. I just..."

You go to touch your lips as if wiping your mouth would make the memory of kissing him disappear. But unfortunately, it doesn't, even after you wipe them harder.

"It's okay," he insists, but you shake your hands in front of him.

"I promise I'm not trying to come on to you, or–"

"It's okay if you were."

You stop in place, your eyes softening. "What...?"

Eren brings his chin up, but his eyes remain on the floor, "I just don't kiss the people I want to hook up with," he says slowly, and you struggle to register the words in your head. "It gives them the wrong impression."

"You... wanted to hook up?"

"Yes," he answers quickly, "but I wasn't going to complain if it didn't happen."

"But you know it wouldn't be... It would be..." What are you even talking about? What do you know about what it would be? You shouldn't even be doing this in the first place – Sasha made that abundantly clear when you were prepping the s'mores.

"I don't do anything serious, by the way. Just casual. But," Eren shakes his head in an attempt to stop the thoughts he sees racing behind your eyes. "You're drunk, and you should probably rest. You know, jet lag and everything."

"I... I'm sorry." You nod lazily, "You're right. I am really tired."

"You look so sleepy." He confesses and reaches a hand out to you.

You don't flinch when his palm brushes over your cheekbone and his fingers comb the hair away from your eyes. You feel the cold air of the bathroom brush against your forehead as he moves your hair away. You flutter your eyes shut nestling yourself closer into the cold bathtub ledge. It feels good against your warm body. You prop your arm on the edge and lay your head down.

"It's been a long day," you mumble as you fight a yawn. "A really long day."

Eren scoots closer to you, his hand moving from the depths of your hair to your shoulder where he gently nudges you awake. "I know you're tired, but let's get you somewhere comfortable."

"No," you protest almost childlike, "I just want to stay here... Stay right here."

You feel him try to nudge you awake again, but you ignore it, leaning your weight against the tub.

"Just... stay with me..."

The words barely make a sound as you slowly lose your fight with consciousness.

Chapter Text

Saturday, August 3rd, 1989
SNK Fraternity House
Home to President Zeke Jaeger

You remember very little from after you fell asleep against the cold bathtub.

Other than the very blurry memory of Eren hiking your arm over his shoulder and pulling you up to your feet, then dragging your deadweight out of the bathroom, you don't remember where you ended up next.

Well, you remember lights and Solo cups and a few pairs of miscellaneous shoes lying around without their owners. And you remember Eren dragging you to a room, and the moment he realized it was occupied, he found a new one. When he walked you to the bed and laid you down on the pillow, everything faded to black.

Sunlight breaks through the blinds and reaches your eyes. You peek an eye open at the brightness and wince, squeezing them shut again. The sun had it out for you, making you roll over on the other side. You settle your face back into the pillow.

But soon enough, you open your eyes and find your reflection in the closet doors. On the mirrored surface, there is a variety of band posters – The Cure, Motley Crue, and Red Hot Chili Peppers. Tired of looking at your own reflection and some grunge man with eyeshadow from some unrecognizable poster, you let your eyes finally adjust to daylight peeking through the blinds.

You roll onto your back and push yourself up on your elbows to look around the dimly lit bedroom. You look for the time. You turn to your left and find the alarm clock–10:18 a.m. You feel like you slept for a lifetime, and are ready to sleep for another. But not in someone else's bed. You've missed your own long enough.

On the nightstand next to the alarm clock is a glass of water and a bottle of Aspirin. Thank god! You reach for the Aspirin bottle, shaking out two capsules and tossing them back like a champ before chugging the glass of water to its very last drop.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You turn to climb out of the bed, pull the blanket from over your legs, a thick red flannel blanket that matches the red bedding, and set your feet on the ground.

Next to the nightstand, you find the sneakers you wore the night on the ground. You look down and realize you're still in your jeans and white tank top from the night before.

Huh. It's been a while since you've fallen asleep in your regular clothes, but it wasn't like you've never had a night like yesterday's.

It takes a minute for your head to get used to the sudden rush, but you're on your feet in no time. You waste no time searching around for any definitive signs as to whose room you're in.

You turn to the nightstand and pull the drawer open. It holds just what you'd expect – condoms, lube, and a pack of cigarettes. You close it and turn to the dresser. There is very little besides the leather jacket lying on the surface. What draws your attention is the framed photographs propped up against the attached mirror.

The first photo pictures the same man you met at the door yesterday, Zeke, with his arm wrapped around a younger-looking Eren. Eren from the past is wearing a blue cap and gown with white and baby blue embroidered wings above his heart, and matching wings hanging from the tassel. The school name – Trost High School – is imprinted in bold calligraphy on the diploma he's holding up. His hair is shorter than normal, curling just under his ears and falling in front of his eyes, and he has a youthful shine to his facial structure despite the frown pulling on his lips. Whereas Zeke is grinning ear to ear, Eren has a sour scowl on his face.

The next photo contains Zeke, Eren, and two others, who you assumed to be his parents. His mother, beautiful and graceful, stands beside his father and behind Eren, who is even younger in this photo. His father stands tall and proud at the center, his hand held firmly to a younger-looking Zeke's shoulder, where he stands off to the side. He looks... out of place. Eren and his parents look like near copies of each other, whereas Zeke stands out like a daisy next to roses. You brush it off and look to the last photo on the dresser.

The last photo, which you spend the longest looking at, is of all your – well, Eren's friends – Armin, Sasha, Jean, Connie, and a raven-haired girl you hadn't seen before. They all share a bright smile, standing in front of a crystalline oceanic background. The sun is setting just below the horizon, sending ripples of light across the waves. They all look like angels, with halos of golden sunlight crowning their heads and illuminating their bright, youthful features. On the bottom corner of the photo, partially cropped out from the frame, are the words in bold Sharpie: Summer of 1986. You recognize Sasha's handwriting and smile. But that smile eventually fades as you leave behind the memory you don't belong in.

Right. Your mission: determine whose bed you stole last night.

Well, your questions have been answered with the photos. This must either be Eren's room. Except, where is he?

You continue snooping anyway. You reach down to the drawers of the dresser and pull them out. There's barely anything inside of them besides a few boxers, socks, and a pair of pants. You move on from that dresser and turn to the mismatched one against the adjacent wall holding the large record player and the collection of vinyl and cassettes. You inspect the vinyl first. A series of classics catch your eye from the rack as you flip through it. The Smiths, New Order, Pink Floyd. You will admit that Eren has good taste in music.

He has a good collection of cassettes too, some more from this collection that you were unfamiliar with, but nonetheless, what could be some of the greatest hits of your time. Stacked on top of one another in a tower of timeless mixtapes, a plethora of cassettes all with their own labels written on painter's tape. You trace your finger from the top to the bottom, reading over each of them.

Carpool Karaoke

Sad Songs To Listen To When Drunk

You chuckle and continue down the tower of mixtapes.

For Chasing Sunsets

Slow Dancing In The Dark

All of them are so unique and special. One label in particular pulls you out of your browsing.

Our Songs, M + E <3

You looked at it a little closer, unable to recognize the quick cursive writing on the tape. Compared to the others, this definitely wasn't in the usual handwriting. You move on and brush your fingers over the one below it.

Best Tracks Summer 1986

You keep seeing things about the summer of 1986. What are the best tracks from the Summer of 1986? You pull that cassette out to take a closer look. You manage to keep the tower in place as you wiggle it out. You flip it over and look over the different tracks recorded onto the tape until someone startles you with the door opening.

"Snooping?"

You jump in surprise, and in turn, drop the cassette from your hands. The tape falls out of the sleeve like a yolk out of an eggshell.

"Shit, sorry," you curse before dropping to your knees and scrambling to pick it up.

"It's all good," Eren says, but you feel quite the opposite considering how slippery your hands are.

You begin shoving the tape back into its sleeve and winding it back into its spot. You shake your head, trying your best to fix your stupid hangover mistake, but by the looks of it, you're only making it worse. Much worse. You end up fitting the rest of it into the sleeve the best you can, fixed or not, you don't know, and closing the end anyway. You put it back into the tower at the top of the stack and spin to look at Eren.

"Good morning," you smile with a puff of your chest.

Although caught in action, Eren still graces you with a gentle smile as he gestures his hands out. On one hand, he has a small decorative plate of two slices of whole wheat toast with a pretty purple jelly, and on the other, a mug of tawny-colored coffee. You hum in delight when he raises it before setting both on the dresser in front of you.

"Good morning," he responds as he brushes his hand through his hair and strides into the room, away from the closed door.

You don't bother with formalities. You reach for the coffee first, taking the hot mug in hand and bringing it to your lips. You take a mighty gulp, despite the liquid burning your tongue.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks.

"Like a rock," you say between recovery breaths and set the mug down. You look around the room and acknowledge all of its features now that he's here. "Is this your room?"

Eren shrugs as he walks to the bean bag sitting in the corner of the room, between the nightstand and dresser holding the photographs of his friends and family.

"It's supposed to be my room," he plops down on the bag chair and it crinkles under his weight.

You take the plate in hand and walk with both the plate and mug to the bed where you take a seat. You bring a slice of bread to your mouth and smell the sweet jam spread.

"What do you mean?" You take a bite and sigh in relief. Delicious.

He waves his hand around, gesturing around the room. "My brother took all my shit from home to set it up for me. He's actively trying to encourage me to join SNK, but I don't want to."

You nod your head in understanding as you finish your bite. "Why don't you want to join?" You test after a moment of silence. "Join SNK, I mean. You said it yourself last night – you looove their parties."

"Because it's not my thing," Eren confesses with a shrug. "I also don't have particular interest being in the cesspool of sex and STDs and toxic masculinity. Not my cup of tea."

"I don't think I would want to be, either," you respond. "What is your cup of tea, then?"

"I don't know," he answers after a beat of thought. "Friends. Cinema. Music."

You wave your hand around, mostly toward the dresser filled with racks and stacks and towers of cassettes and vinyl. A wealthy collection of music. "I can tell. Zeke seems to know you well."

Eren scoffs, voiding malice, "Test him on when my birthday is, and you'll see how well he knows me."

Silence upholds the room as you eat your toast. Eating is a delicate word. You're devouring it. It's really good. Really fucking good. After falling asleep on an empty, alcohol-drenched stomach, it was everything you needed. You didn't realize how hungry you actually were until you were on your second slice and halfway through chugging your mug of coffee. Ugh, and the coffee tastes good too.

"What about you?" Eren asks, breaking the silence.

Your eyes widen as you swallow your bite. "What about me?"

"Sororities? Clubs? Sports? Weird hobbies?"

You laugh and set the plate down on the nightstand. "Not really. I'm not really a... school-oriented person," you confess. "My roommate, Historia, wants me to join the cheer squad, but I'm not interested in being surrounded by a bunch of prissy girls like that."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "So no extracurriculars?"

You shake your head. "Not enough time when your parents spend all of it shoving your education down your throat."

Eren settles further into the bean bag, sinking into the cushion. "'Cause god forbid you have a social life, right?" He teases you, giving you a questioning look. "Kind of boring, don't you think?"

"I have a social life, Eren," you snap back with a bit of sass. You try to tone it down, but your attitude peaks when you're hung over. "At least I don't just go to frat parties to get drunk all weekend and follow girls around until they hook up with me."

That seems to have woken something inside him. He sits up straight, although it's hard from where he sits in the beanbag chair.

"What?"

"I might have been shit-faced, but I remember most of last night." You clear your throat and drop your voice to mock him. "I'm Eren Jaeger. I don't kiss the people I want to hook up with, but I make them fall for me with my super charming laugh and superior dick energy."

A hand ruins his hair and drags down his face as he groans. "Thought you'd forget about that by now."

"It's hard to forget how terribly I embarrassed myself," you roll your eyes. "I think we're even."

He hesitates to respond, thinking of the right thing to say, "You didn't embarrass yourself that bad."

"That bad?" Your eyebrows flatten. "You really know what to say to get a girl to hook up with you."

Eren scoffs, again, with a little more offense. "You make me sound like a horny teenager in raging puberty!"

You laugh louder than anticipated, "I met you yesterday after we found out I got cheated on, and you were already giving me these dreamy 'fuck me' eyes."

"The eyes were mutual, babe," Eren rolls said 'fuck me' eyes, and looks back at you with a taunting stare. Oh, you wanted to kiss or slap it off of him. "Besides, you were the one who tried to kiss me!"

"Before you announced you wanted to fuck!" You thrust your hand at him before crossing your arms. "Make that make sense."

You've both fallen to silence now, unsure of what to say next. Eren sits off to the side, his face propped on his fist, eyes off in the distance. He doesn't look in your direction when you grab the plate again and take another bite of your toast. Your damn good toast. You underestimated the power of carbs during a hangover.

If Sasha knew where you were right now, she might shit herself. Unless she already knows where you are and what happened last night based on what Eren could've said to her, and now she's just testing you.

No, that doesn't seem like something Sasha would do. If she wanted to do something, she would do it herself, and make it known that she is to thank.

Either way, you do remember what happened last night. The thing you tried to do, and the things Eren said ever after embarrassing yourself.

"Were you serious... yesterday?" You test after prolonging the silence long enough.

Eren's eyes slide to yours. "What part?"

"About... hooking up?"

"Yeah," he drops his hand, both palms planted on their corresponding knees as he spreads his legs to sit more comfortably. Oh, that fucker. "Yeah, I did."

"Are you preying on me?" You narrow your eyes on him.

"Preying on you?" He raises a neatly threaded eyebrow at you, "What do you take me as, a fucking wolf?"

"No, just a man who preys on the emotionally vulnerable," you purse your lips. Then, you take one last bite of your toast, mourning the time when you still had another slice, and dusting the crumbs on your pants.

Granted, there is no chance Eren is going to prove the things Sasha told you about him – that he's a heartbreaker and you were the next on his hit list. But maybe you can tease the idea of it. Maybe he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"No," Eren emphasizes. "I'm not preying on you. You are a fully capable and emotionally intelligent woman, despite your drunken advances last night."

You lean back on your hands propped up behind your back, "You really know how to make a girl swoon."

"Thank you," he flattens a hand over his chest, above his heart. "I've had plenty of experience if you were wondering."

He might have just alluded to his careless sex-capades. Interesting.

You roll your eyes, again, "I can't take you seriously when you're sitting on that bean bag."

Eren shakes his head and pushes himself off of the bean bag. To you, it looks silly, childish even. But you know damn well you wouldn't make it look any better. He walks over to you at the edge of the bed and stands with his legs parting yours. His thick thighs brush against your jeans, and you can feel the warmth of another body, another person, between your legs. And it's doing things to you.

You'll admit – getting fucked into oblivion was your only plan after having only been able to pleasure yourself once in a fortnight when you "went to bed early". Space was rare; alone time was sacred.

While your family hung out around the bonfire on the shore of Lake Ymir, you were imagining all the dirty things you were going to do with Reiner when you came back. And when you saw Bitch, or Hitch, or whatever the fuck her name is, taking your chance at that (whether Reiner was a good fuck or not), your awaited relief was spoiled.

God, you're desperate. Just a little bit. But you won't admit that to a suspected heart-breaker like Eren. He might take it and run wild.

Eren's hand comes into view, curling underneath your chin. "And I can't take you seriously when you stare at me like that."

His thumb brushes against your top lip, dragging it in a contortion of his choosing. He presses harder and watches as your lips pucker to his finger. Then, he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, until the sticky sweetness of jam left on your lip coats your tongue.

But you don't stop there. You let him press his thumb to your tongue as you close your lips around the digit. A faint smirk pulls on the corner of Eren's lip and it sends foreign sensations rushing down to your gut.

You're screwed. So screwed.

"Like what?" You nearly whisper under your breath. But Eren hears it loud and clear.

He pulls your chin up, thumb pressing harder on your tongue. "All doe-eyed and innocent when you've got not an ounce of innocence in you."

His eyes remain locked on yours, hooded and inquisitive. As if teasing you, dangling the bait in front of your hungry eyes. Is this the start of it – everything Sasha said? Are you about to become his next victim?

You fight against his thumb, "Does the offer still remain?"

Fuck yeah. You are about to make some really dumbass decisions.

"To fuck?" His eyebrow narrows as he pulls his thumb out and smears the wetness over your lips. "Yeah. You wanna?"

"Would this be the smartest thing to do?" You ask yourself rhetorically as if it was stopping you. The ball is already rolling. You're already preparing your luggage to take with you on your one-way ticket to hell.

Eren answers for you anyway. "Are you planning on getting back with Reiner?"

"No."

"Then I think you're golden," his little smirk grows. He moves his hands from your chin, dragging his fingertips over your jaw to beneath your ear where they card neatly through the hair on your neck. "Besides, it's just casual."

Eren gently presses his knee to the wedge between your legs on the bed. He leans forward, sending you flat onto your back until you're both parallel to each other. With his face hovering nearly inches over yours, you reach your own hand up to slide through the hairs on his neck and lean in with your lips pursed.

He pulls away at the last second and stands up straight between your legs.

"Nuh-uh," he tuts, and you frown as your hand drops in defeat. "No kissing, remember?"

"Why?"

"How else would I keep it casual, baby?" His hands replace themselves on your knees.

You huff in frustration. You push yourself up onto your elbows as he drags his hands upward, palming at your thighs. Each grope sends your legs twitching with anticipation.

"Well, if you're not going to kiss me, are you at least going to fuck me good?"

Eren gives you a look. The look. As if he's moments away from shoving his thumb back in your mouth and fucking the attitude right out of you.

Hey, you're not complaining if he does.

"You didn't even say please." His hand meets your hips, fingers splayed out on each side of you. And they're huge compared to yours, with veins running from the back of his hand to his forearm.

You huff again, your eyes growing heavier. "Please?"

That smirk of his pulls even tighter as his hands meet in the middle and begin their work on your jeans. He unbuttons and unzips them with efficiency, then you work together in shimmying them off your hips, exposing your pastel blue panties. He helps you pull your jeans off of your ankles and tosses them on the bean bag.

"You're going to have to learn some manner if we're going to do this again," he mutters and he drops to his knees and settles himself between your legs.

You, still propped up on your elbows, raise an eyebrow. "Again? This is an exception, Eren. I'm not going to become your regular fuck-buddy."

"You sure?" He quirks his head to the side innocently, but the smile on his face says the opposite. "I think it'd be fun to fuck with Reiner. Imagine him coming back to our dorm and walking in while you're on top of me."

You scoff, despite the burn in your chest at the reminder. Not even Eren's hand tugging your thighs to hike them over his shoulders is distracting enough.

"I think that's just asking for an ass beating," you breathe out.

He chuckles darkly, and you feel it brush against the cloth separating your pussy from his face. Just a sheer wall of cotton and he would be sending you to what you hope is orgasmic bliss.

"Think he'll do the same if I fuck Hitch?"

You swallow deeply and lean your head back to the ceiling. "Don't say his name... Or hers." You squeeze your eyes shut, "You're making me dry."

Eren senses your mood shift and nudges his nose against your clothed clit, causing your chest to cave. It's been a long time since anyone other than yourself has touched your pussy.

"Sorry, baby," he murmurs apologetically, "I'll help you forget about it soon... Might take a few quick fucks to fill in for therapy, though."

You drop from your elbows and lay flat on your back again. "Good thing this is cheaper."

Eren presses his open mouth to your mound and drags his tongue over your clothed cunt. The sensation, although restricted between the barrier, sends a wave of goosebumps over your stomach and arms. Your hands instinctively shoot out to purchase Eren's hair, pulling it out of his haphazard manbun. He lets out a moan of approval, and it vibrates to your core. He eases the sound with long, languid strokes of his tongue through your underwear. Your breath picks up, and your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

You really are desperate. The man isn't even making direct contact with you and you're caving like a house of playing cards. How embarrassing.

You clench your jaw in an attempt to seem like you're not about to whine for him to take them off. But you're real fucking close to it.

He continues the motion, the devastatingly brutal lapping and licking to what he maps out as the form of your cunt until you're clenching your hands in his hair. Your pussy does the same around nothing but air, aching for something, anything to fill you.

"Eren..." you moan. You bring a hand to your face, pushing away the hair that's gotten in the way. "More. I want more."

"Shhh," he says against your soaked underwear. He uses his thumb to sub in for the lack of contact as he mutters lowly. "Can't get too loud. Zeke's down the hall."

Fuck, you forgot about him! And the fact that you're in a frat house! Who knows who else is here, wandering the halls while Eren shamelessly eats you out?

You take your hand from your hair and use it to cover your mouth, taking the loose skin of your knuckles between your teeth. He presses harder into your cunt, nose shoved against your clit as he tries to lick his way through your panties. But it's just. Not. Enough. Not even rolling your hips up to his mouth satisfies the ache burning in your core to be consumed, stuffed, ruined.

"Off, Eren," you grit into your hand. "Want 'em off."

Surprisingly, and thankfully, Eren doesn't talk back. His teeth graze against your nerve bundle as his hands snake their way to your hips. He pulls your panties down, separating himself from your pussy. He lets out a boyish soft whistle.

"So fucking wet," he marvels as he tosses your underwear opposite direction of your jeans. Looks like you're going to have to do a scavenger hunt to find your clothes later.

His mouth latches on to your clit first, taking between his lips and sucking on it the throbbing nub. Relief swells in your chest as your back bows off the bed and your hands shoot for his messy hair again. You're tempted to pull the hair tie out and use it to your advantage, but when his tongue swipes down toward your hole, you're twitching against his face.

A whine rips from your throat as he stuffs the muscle inside, prodding and poking with force. You muffle your sounds by turning your head away and biting your lip. His mouth makes an audible noise when he sucks up the juices dripping from your cunt and he lets out a satisfied breath when he pulls away.

"Fuck, I wish nobody else was in the house," he groans as his hand drops from your thigh and he slides his fingers between your folds. "I bet the sounds you make are so fucking pretty."

Gathering up your wetness, the pads of his fingers brush over your clit. Your gut jolts, every sensation to that sensitive bud feels like a string being plucked to a symphony. Eren is the conductor, and you are his bowed instrument.

"That stupid fuck Reiner is gonna miss such a pretty pussy like this," Eren seethes as he drags his fingers past your clit to your weeping hole. He teases in a finger, or two, you're not sure, and his eyes slide up to yours when you don't respond.

When he captures your gaze, he licks his lips just so you can see. His lips glisten, almost taunting you with the fact that you haven't been kissed in a long fucking time. "Such a sweet fucking pussy too."

You glare back at him as another painful reminder shoots you like a bullet through the chest.

"Shut up," you hiss, as his fingers finally plunge into your warmth.

You gasp, your back arching off the bed as he buries them down to the knuckle with ease. Your hands have never sufficed to reach the deep penetrable parts of you, but your toys have. You know how to work them until you're shaking around your vibrator and clasping a hand over your mouth.

But Eren's fingers hit a spot in you that you desperately needed to be hit. God, this was going to be so hard to deny. You'll savor this pleasure without guilt the best you can right here, right now.

Eren drops his lips to your clit again. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, finding a slow and taunting pace to match the sucking of his lips on your clit that has your thighs threatening to clamp down on his head.

You pant, your mouth parted as you tried to restrict any sound that came out. Strangled moans break free, but he can't hear them. Not when he's wearing your thighs around his ears and loudly slurping up the slick coating of your folds.

"Eren," you drawl needfully. "Co-come on."

You're not sure if you're tugging on his hair to get him to finger-fuck you harder, or if you want him to actually fuck you. But you give his thick locks a swift tug, and he's reluctantly pulling away from your pussy, fingers still in action.

You arch your neck to meet his gaze. He looks up to you with eyes low and hungry, wetness coating his lips and chin.

He smirks cockily, "Desperate much?"

You shake your head and scoff. "Don't let it get to your head."

"Too late," he mutters playfully before ripping his fingers away.

You whine at the missing warmth of his body from between your legs when he steps back. He reaches behind his head, pulling off the white t-shirt by the collar, and tossing that somewhere in the room. You marvel at every muscle in his arms, his chest, and his stomach as he hooks his thumbs into the band of his grey sweatpants. He shoves them off, and your eyes drop to his thick cock leaning against his thigh.

Holy fuck.

He gives you a quick whistle, again, and your eyes glint to his.

"Eyes are up here," he teases, and you roll your eyes.

Eren climbs onto the bed as you push yourself back to give him room. He sits back on his ankles as he settles his knees on either side of your hips and leans forward.

It's almost instinctual when you grab him by the bicep and reach up to kiss him, just as it's instinctual for him to tilt his head away. Your lips land on his Adam's apple and you pout when you pull away.

"No kissing," he reminds you. He looks down to you as he reaches down between the tangle of legs and sets your thighs over his, hanging next to his hips. "Don't pout. You're going to be moaning too much to even think to kiss me," he explains when he catches your stare.

You throw your head back as you growl. "Just get your head out of your ass and fuck me already."

Eren chuckles at your lack of politeness. But you never seemed to have it since waking up hungover. "Well, aren't you a modest mouse?"

You groan and whip your head to him, "Do you always talk this much during sex?"

"It's better than kissing, baby," Eren says as he gathers a glob of spit between his lips, and lets it drop on your cunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing, wishing he would quit teasing you already. "You don't like a little dirty talk?"

"If there's no kissing, then no pet names," you add.

Eren palms your pussy with his hand, spreading the slick and saliva mixture over your slit. "Adding in new rules to our little situation-ship?"

"Seems fair since I'm forced to listen to you talk."

He hums, satisfied at your smug reaction. Realization strikes and he throws his head back to his discarded pants, clicking his tongue. "Shit, I don't have a condom."

You pause for a moment before nodding your head to the nightstand. "There's some inside the drawer there."

Eren stretches back on his haunches to pull out the drawer and reach inside. Condom in hand, he rips the package open and you watch as he gives his cock two quick drags before sliding it down from tip to base. With free hands, Eren situates himself between you once more, taking his hands to the backs of your thighs and pushing them down to present yourself to him widely, fully.

Normally, sex with Reiner occurred in two places – in his squeaky ass bed and the front seat of his pickup truck. And always in the dark. Your sex was never graced with light like you and Eren are, thanks to the soft morning glow peaking through the blinds. So being on full display to him like this feels more intimate than you wanted it to be.

Even after finding out you were being cheated on, puking your guts up, spilling all of your pitiful feelings to him, and – oh! – kissing him, intimacy is the one thing that scares you.

Eren likely doesn't see it in the ways that you do, because, using his thumb to align himself with you, he ruts his cock forward with three tiny little thrusts before shoving the whole thing in without hesitation.

Both your breaths falter, although yours sounds like a cry for help as you adjust to his size. His fingers did no justice in preparing you. He reels his hips back till all that's left inside is the tip and slowly sinks back into your warmth. Your pussy flutters around his girth as your jaw staggers to close.

"Shit, Eren," you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Oh fuck," he hisses under his breath, "You're so fucking tight."

He follows a steady rhythm of his hips until you're both panting like dogs. Until you're both clenching hands around something, anything within reach. Eren's hands down anchor on either side of your hips, balled fists sinking into the mattress further and further as he pounds his cock into your sweet, inviting warmth.

"F-fuck," you stutter and bite your lip.

Your hands find their way to his torso, where they follow the in and out motion, feeling the ridges of his abdomen flex with each movement. You try to keep your head either turned away or locked on watching the hilt of his dick disappear into your folds.

Eren keeps his head up, likely looking at himself in the mirrored doors of the closet as he fucks you. Each pump of his cock inside you had you barreling closer and closer to your long-awaited release.

The buildup from him eating you out and fingering you was already enough to make you come, but to be filled so fully from him was the tipping point of it all. The pull to the cords that were so strung together, you didn't think another person could satisfy it without your help.

You're whimpering now, your legs shaking against his hips as he pounds into you harder and faster. You hate that pleasure like this feels so good with someone who could ruin your life and break your heart all over again. So you buckle down, grit your teeth, and turn away to hide the overwhelming pleasure pulling on your face.

Eren sees this and to make matters worse, he's got a cocky smile on his face. He takes his hand to your forehead and brushes the hair from your eyes, trying to grab your attention.

"Hey," he huffs, the air blowing away the loose hair from his eyes. "Let me — Let me see you."

"Why?" You grumble, head still turned to the side. "You won't even kiss me."

"Don't take it personally," he coos, leaning forward over you like a tower. "It's how I keep things casual."

His hand drags down your face, to the curve of your jaw until his fingers are gripped between your chin. He manually turns your head to him, and you fight to contain the pleasure on your face.

The way he's looking at you now, lazy eyes of pleasure and arrogance make your gut feel like how your legs do right now, like pudding. Even as he's rutting his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, Eren looks as though his stamina is one of a bull.

He's nowhere close to being done with you. Fuck.

His fingers inch upward until they're pinching your lips together. He slides his thumb on your bottom lip first. He pulls it down, and pushes it to the side, toying with it for his own personal entertainment. You jut your lip further into a frown.

"No-no more fingers in the mouth," you mutter as his index and middle fingers brush over your lips next.

He smirks when you fight back against his fingers. "No opening your mouth for them."

"I'll bite next time," you growl, and Eren grins.

He thrusts harder this time, watching as your jaw drops, and your mouth forms a perfect O for him to slide his fingers in to test your remarks. But he doesn't. He just watches as you keep your eyes drilled to him as he pounds his cock into your deeper.

"No more pouting," he warns with a harsh slam of his hips into your pussy.

"F-fuck, okay," you whine.

Eren hits that beautiful spot inside of you that sends stars to the backs of your eyes and shivers down your spine. One that makes it impossible to keep either of you quiet. His face has resorted to a furrow, his eyebrows threaded together, eyes squeezed shut, jaw slackened as he huffs with each buck of his hips. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the orgasm you deserve, explosive and overwhelming.

Eren's hand loosens from your jaw, trailing down your neck and over your chest until he grazes over your breast. He stops when his hand rests below your boob, waiting for his permission.

"Let me touch your tits," he requests, and you roll your head back.

You reach up to your white tank top and pull it over your chest. You tug on the white bralette band to reveal your breasts to him and Eren's eyes light up like a Christmas tree. Of fucking course.

He scoops one in hand entirely, giving it a squeeze. He drops his head down to your chest, his tongue already falling to the peak of your nipple. Cold wetness coats your skin. His breath hovers over your nipple and causes a chemical reaction to send shivers down your spine. You look down at him, watching his tongue lap over your perked nipple as he fondles the other.

"No kissing," you remind him this time. A small smile teases your lips as his eyes drag up to yours with an unfamiliar softness.

"This ain't kissin', baby," he murmurs against your skin as he sucks the peak of your breast into his mouth at the same time his cock is buried inside of you to the hilt. You gasp, the feeling of being full again sending a flurry of heat through your body like lightning.

"And n-no more pet names," you protest, despite it coming out as a whimper.

He raises a brow. "Am I supposed to call you by your name?"

God no. Please don't do that.

"No," you squeak like a mouse. Heat rushes to your face as you shy away and feel his hips slowly reel back.

His eyes fall back onto the mounds on your chest. "Then baby it is," he mutters as he slides his tongue over your pert nipple. You moan at the sensation and the pumping of his cock inside you. You feel yourself tighten around everything.

"Shit, baby. You're so tight," Eren groans, and the sound vibrates against your skin. "Sucking me into this tight little pussy so good."

"I'm so close, so-so close," your breath comes out broken. "Gonna come. F-fuck, Eren..."

"Just like that, juuust like that," he compliments, "Keep squeezing me like that, and I'm gonna come."

Eren thrusts himself into you in long, full strokes. Your head rolls back, and you feel the coil in your gut pulling tighter and tighter the more Eren slams into you. His hips collide against your ass with a loud clapping sound, disregarding any concern for the company outside the door. You try to hold in your sounds, but when his teeth graze your nipple, it sends a shattered moan tumbling out of your lips.

God, you imagine he would be a great kisser. He uses his mouth so skillfully on your body that it nearly makes up for the lack of kissing you've done. Call yourself a romantic person, but a little affection during sex never hurts anyone. Unless you're a playboy like Eren.

Maybe that's what makes him as dangerous as Sasha says he is — he dangles the prize right in front of you and tosses it off the edge when you're inches from holding it in your hands. Within moments, you're falling for his little trap.

With a few rough slams inside of you, you're trembling around him.

"Fuck, I'm coming! Oh fuck!" Your nails sink into his skin as your body explodes in hot white flashes. It feels so good, so relieving, so freeing that you lose your breath.

"Coming, fuck! I'm coming," you barely hear the words from Eren's mouth as he follows you in orgasm.

You're both a mess of sweat and slick down there that the sounds coming from between your legs is damn near pornographic. Those same sounds soon come to a stop after the last pump from Eren's cock, when he slowly sinks to a hilt inside you, savoring the warmth before he reluctantly pulls himself from it. When he does, you almost forget what it was like to not have him in you, to feel so full and good. You both let out a breath that sounds pretty close to a whine when your bodies are pulled away from one another.

Eren steps down from the bed and places his hands on his hips. He takes in a few long breaths before he reaches down to shed off the condom.

You lie there in shock. Post-nut clarity hits you like a fucking truck.

"You good?" Eren asks, tossing the used condom in the trash hidden somewhere in the room. You shimmy your bra and tank top down to cover your chest again.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." You think.

"Good, uh," he rubs the back of his neck. "Do you need a ride home?"

Yep. That's it.

That's the confirmation that you needed that Eren is indeed the fuck boy Sasha says he is.

He's still naked. And you have to force yourself not to look when you push yourself off of the bed and go to find your underwear.

"No, it's fine. I'll walk," you find them thrown off to the side by the door.

You both get dressed in silence. No one says a word as you shuffle around each other to grab discarded clothes and dance around to pull your pants on. You shove your shoes on, not even bothering to unlace them before you use the mirror to pat down the untamed mess of your hair.

"Are you sure you don't want–"

You don't even bother letting him ask what he wants. You just want to leave and shed off any evidence that you stupidly fell for his trap.

"I'm sure," you nod quickly as you hurry to the door and swing it open. Thankfully, the hallway is vacant, and clear of any debris from the party last night.

Eren calls your name once, but you already closed the door, heading to the top of the stairway. From there, you silently scream into your hands before catching your breath and slipping out of the house going unnoticed.

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

Everyone is tucked away in their rooms when you arrive at home.

Quietly, you trudge up the stairs, your legs tired and weary, even after sleeping all through the night like a dead person. You make it to the top, walking past Sasha's closed-down, Historia's open door, to yours. You push inside and embrace the comfort of the vacant room.

It certainly looks like it was unoccupied for as long as it was. Beside your suitcases pushed to the side of the room and your closet doors open, it looks vacant. Your blinds are shut, blocking out the afternoon light and dust covers the surface of your dresser, desk, and windowsill. Each step you take inside creaks against the wood flooring. And when you toss yourself into your bed face first, the mattress hugs you as if it had missed the company of your body.

It feels good to be home. Actually home, and not at some random college party.

Footsteps approach your body and stuff into the mattress, but you don't turn to the company.

"You're back," Sasha says sweetly.

You roll over and face the popcorn ceiling, "I'm back." You sigh in relief.

Sasha walks over to your bed and tosses herself on it next to you. Your bodies bounce off the mattress and she settles on her back, your shoulders touching. Even wearing her baggy t-shirt, you feel her skin radiate heat through the cloth like a toaster oven. Mm, toast.

"I was just about to call SNK and demand your location," she interrupts the silence. "I was starting to get worried."

"Why?" You quirk an eyebrow, although you know she's looking at the ceiling with you, "I was just sleeping."

She turns her head to you. "In a house full of man whores?"

You turn your head to her. "You're the one who left me there," you remind her.

Sasha rolls her eyes away from you, "Eren was very adamant that you stayed there and slept."

"You mean Eren, who you said was hungry for broken hearts and would eat me alive?"

She groans, "Yes."

"He was actually the one to bring me coffee," you chuckle when you watch her face drop. "And it was fucking delicious."

Her face falls back to yours, eyes full of curiosity and concern. "What happened last night?"

Last night, you were, for the most part, on your best behavior.

But in the morning... yikes.

"I drank. I threw up. I fell asleep," you shrug casually, refusing to look in her direction. "Same old, same old."

"And?" She leans her head forward, emphasizing that she knows there is more to be shared.

"And I woke up," you mutter, voice almost mute.

"And?"

Your silence answers enough for you.

"Oh my god," Sasha sits up and whips her head back to you. "You did exactly what I told you not to do!"

"Sasha, you knew it was going to happen!" You sit up from the bed.

"Yeah, but I tried to prevent it by warning you," she stands now for dramatic effect, throwing her hands out of her. "I just had hoped that you would've heeded my warning instead of shoving it up your ass."

Your best friend begins to pace the strip in front of your bed, mumbling curses and 'I knew it!'s under her breath.

Sasha can be a very outgoing, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type gal. It's one of the things you loved most about her. But for some reason, with you, she can get very... anxious. Maybe because you were prone to, quite literally, fucking shit up and watching it explode, even your bubbly, down-to-earth best friend might pop a blood vessel when watching you sabotage potential peace.

"If it makes you feel any better, you were right."

"Wait," she pauses her whispered monologue to splay her hand over her chest, "say that again please?"

"You were–" Realization strikes you, and you shake your head as you go to push her. "No!"

"At least promise me it won't happen again," she begs with hands formed in prayer. "If you give that dog a bone even just once, he's gonna come begging for more."

You sigh heavily and look at Sasha a little more serious this time. "I made it clear that I do not have any more bones to throw him. It was a spur of the moment. Purely emotionless. Physically transactional. One-and-done."

"Good," she says roughly. "Okay. Enough talk about Eren Jaeger. It's giving me a tummy ache."

You giggle softly as you pat your hand down on the smooth comfort beside you. Sasha's shoulders slump, and she goes to sit next to you. Immediately, she lays her heavy head on your shoulder. You lay your head on hers.

"I've seriously missed you so much. I'm so glad you're back."

"I missed you too," you smile. "And I'm glad to be back. It was a very long and exhausting summer with family."

"Well, your parents called," Sasha says. "Seems they already miss you."

You groan, throwing your head back. "What did they want?"

"They wanted to see when you got home and how you're feeling about school starting up. And then they went on and on how they think I'm such a good friend and that you should listen to me more often 'cause I'm so smart and so great. I had to tell them, 'You guys! Calm down! You're flattering me, but really, you should tell your daughter that!'"

You laugh as you nudge your shoulder against her. "You're so full of yourself," you tease.

You nestle your head against Sasha with a sigh. She senses the weight accompanying your shoulders, and she hums. "Don't worry about calling them back right now. You're finally home, and there is so much for us to catch up on." She looks up at you with her big doe eyes, "Do you want to cuddle in bed and talk about the summer?"

"Yes, please," you smile sweetly down to her.

Sasha's eyes travel past your face and over your body before she slightly winces, "But maybe tell me all about it after you shower? You smell like a teenage boy's room."

You gasp with pretend offense and

Honestly, you probably do. After spending the last night being squeezed between foreign bodies and this morning sleeping in Eren's bed, you don't smell like a field of flowers. But that doesn't stop you from messing with your best friend.

"Awh, c'mere Sash," you spread your arms out wide and throw them around your best friend, "Gimme mama some sugar."

"Blegh!" Sasha gags as she pushes herself out of your mighty grip. "Get away, stinky!"

"Come here. I missed you!" you whine again and snuggle your head into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

You both struggle so much – you trying to bear hug her, and her trying to escape – you both fall back onto the bed, laughing at yourselves. You settled into the form of each other's bodies, your head on her shoulder, her legs thrown over yours.

Physical affection between the two of you is never intimidating to either of you. And maybe for that reason, destiny, fate even, had a hand in leading you to one another, so that you could both find a friend that loved you like the air you breathe.

Because after an exhausting summer with your crazy family and unfortunately another failed relationship, you needed to be in the arms of your best friend.

"You love me," you coo when she finally stops fighting you.

"I do," she pushes her chin into your head, like a mother cat to her kitten. "More than you know."

♣ ♢ ♠ ♡

After showering, you feel so much better about living with your hangover. The effects are still there, but you don't hate yourself nearly as much as you did when you woke up this morning. Your body doesn't feel like a bag of bones, and your face is refreshed and clean. And to finally take a shower in your own place and walk to your bedroom in just a towel with your hair dripping behind you, it all feels liberating.

Inside your room, you wrap your hair up in your towel, slip on a pair of sweatpants with a baggy t-shirt, and skip out on a bra (finally you're not in the company of family!). You dive under the covers for what will be your first nap of many today.

But then, you look at the telephone on your nightstand. And it's looking at you in return. You know exactly what it's saying, but you don't want to hear it. You look away, only to find your attention turned back to it.

Ugh, fine. The phone wins.

You reach over to your nightstand, slide the phone between your ear, and dial the number to the cabin by Lake Ymir. It rings three times before someone picks up.

"It's Colt," your cousin chimes through the telephone.

"Hey Colt, are my parents around?"

"Yeah, they're drinking wine by the fire pit," he answers. "What's up?"

"Can you tell them I'm on the phone?"

"Sure."

The line goes silent as you wait for someone to arrive on the other end. Your little cousins' voices echo in the background as footsteps approach. After a few minutes, the phone is picked back up and your mom's voice fills your ear.

"Hi sweetie, how are you doing?"

"Hey Mom," you smile. Other than having been cheated on, you're okay. But you'll hold on to that information for now. "I'm good — happy to be home again. Just feeling the jet lag right now." Code word: hangover.

"When did you get home last night?"

"Uh, the flight landed around seven thirty, but I didn't get home until like ten at night." You'll pass on telling her about the party last night too.

"Why so late?" She presses, and you hold your breath.

"I went to go see Reiner," you say after an awkward pause. It's soon followed by another, more dreadful wait.

"Really, honey?" She sighs, and you feel the disappointment radiate through the phone like buzzing heat. You can see the grimace on your mother's face just from how her tone changed.

You protest. "Mom, I'm twenty-one. I'm allowed to see my boyfriend."

You weren't going to tell her that yes, this is the same guy who cheated on you. Telling her that was just asking for what you hated hearing: "I told you so! Boys are a distraction!"

"It's just so late at night," she drawls. Another sigh comes from your mother and you roll your eyes like a moody teenager, preparing yourself for her speech. "You should be preparing for your classes that are starting next week. Your junior year is most important when outlining your senior thesis. There is a lot of intense competition when it comes to stealing a spot for a good internship."

What you really, truly want to respond with is, "I worked my ass off all summer long, memorizing stupid terms and stupid concepts from a stupid book about stupid men's psychology – which you still don't understand! All while watching everyone I love enjoy their summer off from the dinner table like a child on time-out. I am well prepared."

Instead, you go for the easiest option. "Okay, Mom."

You can hear your father on the other end of the phone saying something to her. You try to pick up what he's saying, but your mother chimes in through the phone before you can.

"Listen, sweetie." What is she going to say now? "Your father and I want to talk to you about something while we are on the topic of school."

The phone shifts and your dad comes into range. "Hey, baby bear. It's your old man."

"Hey Dad, what's up?" You say softer this time, hoping your father would cut you some slack.

He usually did save you from the impending doom your mother scared you with growing up. You were his little sidekick, his baby bear. But as the years went on, and pressure from outside factors grew, it became you against your parents. Always.

"Your mother and I saw how hard you were working over the summer. We're hoping what we're about to say isn't going to be too rough for you." He starts.

"Okay," you say warily. "What's going on?"

"As donors to Paradis State, we put a lot of money in for a multitude of reasons. For one, it's our alumni. It's fostered some of the greatest psychiatric doctors and psychologists we have the privilege of knowing. We pushed you to go to school there because we want you to get the best education you can. But if you don't start showing some initiative, then it might not be the best fit."

"What do you mean?"

Your mother comes back into range. "Honey, what your father is trying to say is... if you can't show that you're dedicated to your education, we're going to have to look at other options." She pauses a moment to gauge your response. When you hold your tongue, she continues, "Now, you see, we want you to get your degree. But we cannot pay for your tuition and continue to support you if you're not passing your classes."

They're going to... cut you off? Granted, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have to work a little while going to school. You've done it before here and there for some extra cash.

But all because of a couple of bad grades? Wouldn't that affect your grades even more to have to multitask?

"But I told you guys that I've been trying. I just..." Don't understand anything. Don't feel like anything makes sense. You're stuck putting out a bunch of bullshit into your brain after every tutoring session, every exam, every homework practice, and hoping someday, some of it will stick. "... don't get it."

Psychology is all you've ever known. Since you were a freshman at Lago High School, you knew exactly what you were doing after your senior year. Your parents knew. Or maybe, they influence you into everything that you are familiar with. Either way – you are your parent's daughter.

You also just so happen to be kin of some of the richest and smartest psychology alumni, and psychiatric doctors in Eldia.

The shoes you had to fill are gigantic. And there are two pairs instead of one.

"This is why we pushed you to study this summer to retain the basic knowledge that you need to succeed. Otherwise..." Your mother trails off.

"What are you saying?" Your voice becomes weak.

"We'll make a deal," your mother tests. "If you can get your GPA up by the end of the semester and pass with all A's, then you can stay at PSU and we will fund your education."

All A's? What about the psychology classes you fight for your life in to get a B in? What about the human anatomy classes you struggle in so much? The chemistry professor you had to beg to let you retake an exam just to pass by with a C?

"And if not?" You regret asking, in fear of the response you'll receive.

"We will not let you fail."

The ominous silence takes a stab at you.

What they mean is... they don't want there to be failure coming from your family name. A mistake. Something that doesn't belong. A weed within the garden.

Your gut twists and you sink into the edge of your bed, "But... I want to stay. I have friends here. I like going to PSU. It's just hard..."

"Then, it looks like you're going to have to make some sacrifices, baby bear." Your father adds, and your chest caves.

Sacrifices?

You sacrificed your summer already. You sacrificed your time and well-being every damn day last semester to fight for better grades in your courses, but... it's not enough.

Nothing will be enough.

Nothing will ever be enough for them.

"We love you, and we want you to succeed."

They don't want your failures to be tied to the family name...

"And we want you to be the best version of yourself that you can be."

That they want you to be...

"We know you can do it."

You will do it. Or else...

You swallow, unable to think of anything to say to stand up for yourself. "Okay..."

Your mother waits a moment before letting out a satisfied sigh. As if this conversation went better for her than it had for you. You still sit on the edge of your bed with the phone to your ear, staring at the light brown wood of the floor.

"All right, sweetie. I'm glad we had such a good talk," she hums. "We miss you already!"

"Take care, baby bear!" Your father beams through the phone. "We'll talk when we come back down from Lake Ymir!"

From there, you hang up the phone and sit in the silence of your room. You let the words sink in. Responsibilities. Sacrifices. Failures. Your failures.

And that's when everything finally crashes over you. You have been going for so long and feel so out of place while even in the company of your best friends. Reiner cheated on you when you thought things were finally looking up for you. Your parents push you to your breaking point in school, only to push you even more.

You don't fit in your friend group – you will never have rooted history like they do. You will never be someone's person – Reiner made that very apparent even after begging for you to come home early for months. And you will never be what your parents want you to be – the golden child of the most notable psychologists in Eldia.

No amount of drinking, partying, sex, or any other mood-alternating motives could make you feel like you belong somewhere.

You reach for anything within arm's distance, which happens to be your pillow. You throw your face into it and scream as loud as you possibly can. Until your throat hurts. Until your chest burns. Until your lungs run out of air. And when you finish, you set the pillow back down beside you and gather your bearing again.

Someone knocks on the door, but they don't bother waiting for a welcome.

Sasha appears in the doorway, her ponytail swinging behind her as she bounces in. She has a slice of cheese in hand that's missing a few bites. She either doesn't notice your lack of breath, or she doesn't bother asking about the screams that were heard from your bedroom.

"Making Sasha's Hammy Sammies," she sings and gives you a tight-lipped smile. "Do you want mild cheddar or swiss cheese?"

You breathe out, releasing all the negative energy that's still bubbling inside you. You give her the best faux smile you can give her. "Mild cheddar, please."

She waves goodbye to you with the hand holding the cheese and spins back around, "Coming right up!" Then, she's gone.

You're alone again in your quiet, dusty room. In the great, big, and beautiful city of Paradis – the city in which you call home.

And yet, you've never felt more homesick.