Work Text:
|Winter Comfort Sweater|
“Since when did you take up knitting?” Mikasa asked, sitting down beside Armin in front of the fire, pulling the blanket loosely around her shoulders.
“Oh, it’s just…nothing, I’m just…”
“Armin, is this for Eren’s birthday?”
Armin wheezed, flustered and shaking slightly.
“No! I…uh…you know I get cold, I gotta-”
“Armin,” Mikasa interrupted. “You have eight sweaters.”
“Well, can’t hurt to have a new one.”
“But why are you knitting it? Couldn’t you have bought it?”
“Knitting is fun, Mikasa!” Armin retorted, embarrassed.
“Isn’t green Eren’s favorite color, though?” Mikasa glanced at the yarn.
“No!” Armin shouted a little too loudly.
“Oh c’mon, Armin, you can’t fool me.” She smiled knowingly.
“OK, fine, it is for Eren. Happy?”
“Of course I am.”
There was a light silence.
“If you were gonna make it yourself, couldn’t you have asked someone for help?”
“I…I was embarrassed, OK?”
“What exactly is so embarrassing about getting a gift for your boyfriend?” Mikasa asked.
“I mean, not everyone is confident enough to empty the entire officer’s pantry for their partner on their birthday,” Armin retaliated. Mikasa smiled and shrugged/
“Reiner can knit, I think, and…Sasha!”
Sasha was munching on bread kidnapped from Connie as usual. She beamed at Armin and Mikasa and went to join them.
“Armin needs help knitting,” Mikasa said bluntly as Armin blushed.
“Ooh, is this for Eren?” Sasha smirked.
“Yes,” Armin replied, his cheeks burning.
“Of course I’ll teach you, no problem!” she proclaimed delightfully.
“Oh thank god,” Armin said to himself.
Eren kicked the air. It did something to relax his stiffened muscles. The cold was cutting through him but he didn’t care. It was 5 in the morning and it was snowing vaguely and he was in nothing but regular uniform, trying to practice some gear moves as advance training for the morning’s usual lesson.
“Eren!”
Eren halted his muscle exercise. It was Armin, looking very cute wrapped in two sweaters, his hair pinned back and holding something in his hand, which Eren assumed, must be his cloak.
“Oh hey Armin, what are you doing this early in the grounds?”
“Could ask the same of you,” Armin’s voice shook with his gritting teeth.
“Oh come on, I always do this, you know that!”
“I mean, I didn’t know what I expected, but you know, normal people don’t start their day training on their birthdays.”
Eren turned slowly.
“It was my birthday?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yes, dimwit,” Armin beamed.
‘Oh.”
“Here,” Armin unfolded a dark jade green sweater. “Your gift.”
Eren gasped.
“Oh my god, you made this? For me?”
“Duh.”
“Oh, fuck!” Eren pulled him into a hug. “I…Damn, Armin, I don’t know what to say!”
“Don’t say anything, just…” Armin pulled the sweater over Eren’s head, “…put this on, you’re freezing.”
“Sorry,” he grinned.
“Now come on, Mikasa has been fretting about the cake for hours.”
“Thanks, Armin,” Eren’s arm tightened around his waist.
He wouldn’t forget it. Ever. Nothing could replace the comfort that sweater brought him. Not even the jacket he would take from Floch’s hands a few years later. It was a small brick in his home.
Forever.