Chapter Text
When Eren wakes up that morning, he's expecting his day to go like any other. To wake up, get dressed, eat, go to class, get to work after three then come home and stay up until three in the morning. But his expectations were not met.
To start at the beginning of his day, he wakes up, takes a shower while brushing his teeth simultaneously. It's not a habit many are fond of developing, but for a college student who has a penchant for waking up thirty minutes later than he should, it's needed. The only problem he had in the very beginning was keeping shampoo out of his mouth, but he resolved that easily. Once he had washed his hair, and spat out the minty substance in his mouth, he stepped out of the tile room and wrapped a towel around his waist. The sudden temperature change made him shiver, but he got used to it quickly.
Back in his room, he dressed in jeans and a gray shirt, carding his fingers through his still-damp hair to work out any tangles before slipping on his shoes and exiting the flat. He pressed the button for the lift, waiting patiently for it to come down. When it did, he recognized some of its occupants. He saw Petra Ral, the woman (though not much older than him) who lived right above him. Next to her was her boyfriend, Oluo Bozado. He stared for a second before flicking his eyes to the short man that he didn't know. From his quick glance, he saw nothing special about the guy. He was staring impassively at the lift doors which, when opened, he briskly walked through. Eren bid Petra and her boyfriend a good morning before walking as well, though towards the tube.
On the train he did what he always did: people watch. As an art student, he always stared at people at tried to imprint their figures into his mind if they're interesting enough. And if he can remember, he'd draw them later on. The ride ended fairly quickly, and he stopped his calculating gaze on a young woman holding her daughter and exited the train. Even if there were open seats, he never sat down on them. He couldn't decipher if it was a habit picked up from being a gentleman or just wanting to get out quickly.
He still had to walk from the station to campus, but it was done fairly quickly, especially since his friend Marco started to walk with him. Marco was an artist as well, but he specialized in pastels while Eren did whatever. "Slept in again?" The taller boy asked, his facing displaying a smile. Eren groaned and nodded his head; he had missed his first lecture completely while Marco was just getting there in time for his first.
"I don't understand why they feel the need to schedule classes before eight; it's fucking treason." His voice trailed off into a yawn at the end, showcasing how tired he was. He had only gotten three hours of sleep, after getting home at nine and staying up to do his homework and talk to his sister, Mikasa. Well, his adopted sister, but he never really cared to call her that. She was practically related by blood anyways.
"I understand. Last semester I had a class at seven on the dot. And the professor was a tight ass whenever we missed it." Eren groaned in sympathy for his friend, not even bearing to imagine the thought.
They parted ways on campus, and Eren left for his class called History of Art. They were doing a unit on Artists of the Renaissance, and though he was happy it was his favourite period in history, period, it was boring to him. It might've been more interesting if his professor didn't have such a monotonous voice, but he did, and it almost put the boy to sleep most days. He stepped into the lecture hall and took his place beside Reiner Braun, a big buff guy who was into sculpting. Reiner offered him a half-hearted grin before promptly resting his head in his arms and most likely falling asleep (Eren would've been certain he was, if it wasn't for the missing snores and three cups of coffee on the desk). When he gave up on getting a response out of his friend, the professor walked in at that moment and began to speak.
For the entire class, Eren felt as if he was In Professor Binn's class from Harry Potter, remembering how everyone seemed to have fallen asleep in that class. And the two were titled the same, one being History of Art and the other being History of Magic. Though, his teacher wasn't a thousand-year-old ghost who floated through the wall at the beginning of every class so that was a difference.
When it was over, he sprang out of his seat, pushed Reiner so hard he fell over and sprinted out of the room before the buff blond could figure out what happened. He went through the rest of his classes in the same manner, until it was three and he was finished for the day. He supposed it was his fault for having such an early class so he could leave early, but he always pushed that thought away whenever it entered his head. Which it did at least five times a day. Eren wasn't one for taking responsibility of his actions.
He walked to his job, it being at a cafe that was walking distance from his school. His boss, the ever-so-eccentric Hange Zoe, was enthusiastic about everything he wanted to do in life. And just plain enthusiastic. So it really didn't surprise Eren when he threw himself onto the younger boy, squeezing him tightly. Then he stepped back and the younger boy was shocked at the hairstyle Hange was sporting. Usually he kept it pulled back in a ponytail, but today he let it loose. Along with his glasses, he looked like a girl (he had been mistaken as one before, a story he told every employee).
"What's down with the hair?" He heard himself talking and cringed at the pun he didn't even mean to do.
Hange just laughed, twisting a strand around his fingers. "Just wanted to do something different today. After all, it is my half-birthday!" Another thing about his boss: he was always throwing parties or celebrating something. Most times it did even make sense, like one time he celebrated the anniversary of the invention of the light bulb (though they were all thankful, his coworkers didn't feel the need to commemorate that day).
"Happy twenty-eighth-and-a-half birthday, then," Eren said. Hange smiled before turning serious and telling him to get ready for his shift. Eren just shook his head and put on his apron, resigning himself to work for the next six hours.
He got off at six, with a slice of cake and a large coffee stain on his shirt, though he was thankful he had brought a jacket. Zipping it up to cover the brown splotch, he walked towards the tube and repeated his actions from over twelve hours prior.
Once out of the station and on his street, he hurried up a little bit, remembering the load of homework he needed to complete (and not only tonight's; as a procrastinator, he had day's of homework to finish). He entered the complex his flat was in and headed for the lift. He noticed that in front of him was the short man from the elevator this morning. He didn't think anymore on the matter, since the doors had opened and both stepped inside. He let the man press the button for his floor before he touched his. It only took thirty seconds for it to get onto the second floor, Eren's floor, but it came to an abrupt halt ten seconds in. The lights flickered before turning off entirely, plunging the two into darkness.
"Fuck," he heard the man curse. "Shitty job at fixing this thing," he muttered at no one in particular. Thinking that it probably has happened before, so he didn't need to worry, he decided not to do anything drastic. Apparently he had a problem at that, his two childhood friends had pointed out. But he didn't seem to have control over his actions as his current situation set in.
As a child, he had been locked in a toy chest by accident for a few hours. He was traumatised, being only four at the time and already having problems with being alone. And thus he developed a case of claustrophobia that was only triggered by small, dark places. Which sucked, because that's the situation he was in.
"Fuck," he hissed, closing his eyes and trying to think of something happy. He didn't have these bouts very often; but when they did happen, it's like a tornado formed in his mind. As he searched for a memory that calmed him, he saw red. Opening his eyes, he noticed that the man had turned on the flashlight on his phone and was shining it at him.
"What's wrong with you, brat?" He asked, clearly having no tact. Eren shook his head.
"I might have claustrophobia," he admitted, to a pure stranger.
The man cocked an eyebrow, asking, "really?" He nodded, and the man sighed. "We might be here in awhile; last time this happen it lasted for thirty minutes and I was late for my meeting."
He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as he tried to conjure up happy memories. The only ones that seemed to come to mind were the ones of him in the toy box, and of the time a guy named Jean locked him in a janitor's tiny closet for three hours (he claimed it was an accident, but few believed him).
"That's not working," said the man from the other side of the small compartment. Eren opened his eyes again, looking at the man. He was gazing down at his phone, fingers tapping out a message for something or another. He seemed enraptured with his phone, so he took his time to actually study the man. He had pale skin, and it didn't help that his dark suit made the contrast that much greater. He had black hair, cut in an undercut and steely gray eyes that her currently trained on his phone. The light spilling from said object shined some light on his build, and through the suit jacket he could the man had strong arms for someone of his lithe build.
Eren thought he would be a beautiful model.
After a few moments, the man looked up from his phone, turning it off. They were plunged into darkness once more and the boy started to curse the man for doing what he obviously shouldn't do. And then, he says, "come here." After a moment of hesitation, the boy slowly starts to edge his way over to the man - or at least, where he hopes he is. After a few seconds, he hits a knee so he stops there. He wasn't expecting anything to really happen, much less an arm to reach around him and pull him closer.
And suddenly, Eren is leaning against a stranger's shoulder in a dark lift, though he's taller than the man.
"Um," he starts to say, but the man cuts him off.
"Shut up, shitty brat. Apparently when someone is having a panic attack or whatever, it calms them when someone is talking and human contact. So here I am, and I'm talking."
Eren had just one question. "Did you just search what to do when someone is having an attack?"
There was silence for a moment before the man's voice came back. "That's none of your concern. And if you keep talking I won't fucking do anything." He stayed quiet and the man continued. "Well, for starters, my name's Levi Ackerman. I live in the floor above in flat 8C. I go to work at eight and come back after eight." And he continued on, saying mindless information until Eren was half-asleep and was barely listening. It was quiet for some time before the lights flickered back on and he had to blink at the sudden brightness.
"Levi?" He looked down and noticed the man had his head on his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing even. Smiling to himself, he wrapped an arm around the man's waist and stood him up, before picking him up bridal style and then his briefcase in the other. He pressed the button for the third floor and waited patiently for the doors to open. When they did, he walked down the hall to the flat and rummage around in the man's pockets for the keys. He found them in a jacket pocket, and he unlocked the door. All flats in the building have the same layout, so he had no problem getting the man to the master bedroom. He marvelled at the cleanliness of the place as he put the man on his bed, taking his shoes and jacket off.
Placing the briefcase on a table in the living room, Eren suddenly had a gust of boldness and pulled a piece of paper and pen from his pocket. He wrote down a message before leaving the apartment. He was thankful that you could lock the doors from the inside without leaving, which he did (since he lift the keys on the table). He walked back to his flat and settled in for a long night of doing assignments, and almost killing himself over them.
When Levi woke up at seven the next morning, he was confused to find himself in his bed and not in the lift like he was last. Realising that he was in his bedroom, he figured out that the boy from the lift. He pulled himself out of bed, frowning at the wrinkles in his slacks, and went into his living room. He saw his briefcase, his case and a note on the coffee table in there. Looking at the note, he saw it was written by someone with messy handwriting.
Thank you for last night, Levi. Sounds like a sexual innuendo, but oh well. Anyways, here's my number, because you're somewhat nice to be around.
Eren (XXX-XXXX)
He rolled his eyes, but decided to enter the number into his phone anyways.