Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eren had only been back living in the dorms for three weeks when he snapped, storming out of the quiet, empty room at 8pm on a Wednesday, chest tight enough his vision blurred with oxygen deprivation. He should have been used to this feeling, but coming back after the summer was always the hardest on him. His roommate, Jean, was out with some friends he’d made in his classes, but Eren had been in such a bad mood all day that Jean hadn’t even tried inviting him. It was just-

College wasn’t home.

He gritted his teeth as a shiver raced down his spine; the sun had just set, but the heat was already leeching from the air and leaving him cold. It almost made him wish he’d grabbed his hoodie, instead shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants just for something to do with them. Half-familiar people eyed him as he pushed through the lobby of the dorm, shoving open the door with his shoulder, not bothering to hold it for the guys a few feet away as he took quick steps down the walkway and towards the north side of campus. There was a park, somewhere in this fucking city, but he only knew it was past the north end of campus. He figured he’d walk out there, follow a few streets, and turn around when he felt less like there was a crater in his chest.

Homesickness had always been just a word to him. Everyone at graduation had been in such a fucking tizzy, fluttering around about how much they’d miss him when he went off to university. At the time he had rolled his eyes, sure that he’d be enjoying college too much to bother missing anything about his hometown.

Now, two years later and coming back from a summer spent sitting in a town hardly anyone he knew lived in any more, he could admit he had been really fucking wrong. Sometimes it was so bad he even missed his dad.

(No, it wasn’t actually, but sometimes there was space on either side of him, where bodies should have been but weren’t, and he was so desperate he might have just accepted the apology that wasn’t coming from his old man.

Or at least he hoped he only might have accepted it. He definitely hadn’t been sad to leave that fucking bastard to his empty house, bitter remarks, and ridiculous work hours once the dorms opened again, but at the same time he was the only family he had. And desperate times called for desperate measures.

Fuck, he was so lonely.)

He was passing one cluster of buildings when he heard someone shout, the sound punctuated by a soft thud. He didn’t even pause, twisting to turn back, muscles in his shoulders coiling with tension as he found the long, narrow alleyway between the buildings and spotted the small girl standing beside two broad shouldered guys.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening. The girl was leaning against the wall, obviously having been knocked there, bag scattered across the ground. She had her hair in pigtails and her cheeks were nearly as red as the strands hanging in front of her eyes, wide as saucers. Eren felt the restless hollow tightness in his chest loosen at the sight of the two guys, one in a red t-shirt and one in a black t-shirt, because he finally had a target for all this stupid agitation. He stepped forward intent on intervening, but a stray thought distracted him, dancing from the girl’s Pokemon t-shirt back to the guys.

“Prepare for trouble,” his stupid mouth blurted out, instead of something actually fucking cool. The guys startled at the sound of his dumb exclamation, the girl’s gaze snapping to him with something akin to disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“What the fuck?”

“Uh,” Eren said, still thrown off by the mental image plaguing his fucked up brain. “I said prepare for trouble.”

The guys blinked. The girl trembled, which seemed like a weird delayed reaction to the danger until Eren realized with a groan that she was laughing at him. He apparently couldn’t even get into a fight without being a complete and utter failure. Who knew?

“Trouble,” the guy in the black t-shirt repeated, face contorting into something vaguely like a constipated ape. “Why the fuck would we prepare for trouble from a punk bitch like you?”

Eren blinked. “Are you fucking serious? Did you really just call me a punk bitch?”

The girl made a noise, soft and squeaky, her silent laughter suddenly becoming actual sound. The two guys whirled, one of them stepping toward her as if they were going to shut her up, and Eren decided, well, fuck it.

It was going to end up in a fist fight anyway, wasn’t it?

He lunged, clenching his fist and swinging from the hips, connecting with the side of Red Shirt’s face. It hurt, in a familiar way (the first familiar thing about this damn city), but Eren ignored it. The guy stumbled, crying out in surprise, and Black Shirt turned, eyes bugging in anger, to lunge back at Eren. Eren ducked, stumbling a little on the uneven pavement of the alleyway, only to end up wheezing when the asshole followed it up with a kick to his stomach.

(It didn’t appear to be their first alleyway fist fight.

But to be fair, it wasn’t Eren’s either.)

He kicked at the guy’s ankles as he fell, flinging out an arm to find the brick wall, twisting to make sure Red Shirt wasn’t coming up after him too. But instead of a big thickheaded asshole lunging at him, he was met with the sight of the guy on the ground, hands clutched in between his legs with tears on his face while the girl stood over him, grin bigger than she was.

“And make it double,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. Black Shirt shouted, crying out a name that probably belonged to the weeping guy on the ground, snarling as he realized that his friend had been put out of commission by a girl no bigger around than a lamppost. Eren took the chance as Black Shirt turned to avenge his friend, connecting a solid kick to the back of his kneecap so that he crumpled forward, knocking his head against the wall.

“Really,” the girl said, still grinning, “Team Rocket?”

Eren gaped. “You’re the one who responded,” he defended, feeling himself grin, just a little toward the end of the word. “Besides, their shirts fit! …kinda.”

Her nose crinkled and she eyed the two fallen bodies with a tilt of her head. She shrugged after a second, ducking down to scoop up her stuff before marching toward him.

“Come on, Gary,” she said, shoving half of her shit in his arms before hooking his elbow with her hand and starting to tow him along behind her. Eren sputtered, arms suddenly full of pens and paper and, oh god, he thought, eyes rising to the sky, that’s a tampon. But what he did manage, eventually, was to shove his voice out of his throat despite the confusion smothering him.

“My name isn’t Gary,” he protested. The girl peeked back at him, eyes the same color as the forest leaves back home.

“You didn’t look like an Ash,” she said unapologetically, “but let’s be real, I make a great Misty, so if you have a good argument for it, I’ll listen.”

She dragged him all the way to the Starbucks in the university’s library before he realized that he hadn’t brooded on how homesick he felt for, like, ten minutes. Which, he hated to admit, but it might have been a new record, at least for the week he had been having.

“So,” she said, shoving him to sit in one of the chairs found in Starbucks across the nation. He slumped down, letting her shit fall in his lap, and with a grin she dropped down into the chair next to him and started to sort out her stuff.

He realized with a jolt he recognized her. She was in the English class he had been forced to take, since he’d been avoided it last year. She had at least one thing to say during each long-winded, mind-numbing lecture and her opinion clashed with their stuck up TA every time she opened her mouth. Eren had found himself agreeing with her more often than not, but getting into an argument with a TA in the first month of school was not his idea of a good time. Been there and done that, thanks.

“So,” Eren said, mimicking her. When he didn’t continue with anything else she laughed, pulling the last notebook and tampon out of his lap to return them to the messenger bag he swore was too small for all that shit. She curled her legs under her, skin pale against the black faux-leather of the chair, and Eren had to admit that with her jean shorts and red hair she would make a very good Misty.

“You’re my new friend,” the girl announced, with a look in her eye that probably should have scared him. “If you have any protests, speak them now or forever hold your peace.”

Oh what the hell, Eren thought, this time a little softer, I guess I’m lonely enough to befriend a freshman.

“I’m not backing you up in Lit class when you start brawling with Kitts, but other than that, I’ve got nothing.”

The girl’s grin dimmed, just a bit, and her eyes went from manic to a quiet kind of intense. Eren found himself sinking down into the chair, shoulders easing as she smiled at him, her own shoulders dropping in response.

“If you don’t tell me your name,” she said, smile curling up again into a grin, “I’m just going to have to call you James.”

Eren felt his cheeks heat up as a groan built in his throat. He dropped his head back, the girl’s laughter ringing in his ears, and stared up at the ceiling.

“I thought I was Gary,” he complained, ignoring the people who turned to stare. A thought came to him then, making him grin too. “You’re too fucking short to be Jessie,” he said, turning his head to eye her critically. “So I guess I’m gonna have to call you Meowth.”

She hit him with a solid punch to his right arm which he knew, without a doubt, would definitely bruise. He winced, twisting to cradle it, only to have her lean closer, glowering at him with all her might.

“My name is Isabel,” she told him pointedly.

“Eren,” he said, still leaning back. And then, because it was true, “you hit really hard.”

Isabel lit up, returning to her own bubble of personal space to beam at him happily. “Thanks,” she said, “my brother taught me.”

Then, as if they had known each other forever, she slumped down in her chair, pressed her bare shin against his clothed one, and pulled out her phone to fiddle around with it. He felt a small smile pull at his mouth, feeling himself center a little bit at the weight against his leg.

It had only taken him three weeks, but hey, at least he had a new friend, right?

Chapter Text

Befriending Eren was probably the best decision she’d made in the three weeks of college classes she’d attended (besides, of course, hounding Levi for a mini fridge to keep her canned coffee in so that she could actually function at 7:30am when she rolled out of bed for class). Not only was he adorable in a big funny puppy way (he cocked his head to the side when he was confused and he laughed like a sand dune collapsing to one side and sometimes he got twitchy and offended over silly things like a riled up little pup), but he was also smart.

Like, really smart.

Smart enough that sometimes he passed her a piece of paper during class with notes scribbled on it to help her argue against their TA. And when she complained about her math homework he hoisted out his laptop, stole his roommate’s desk chair, and spent two hours helping her figure out what she was supposed to be doing to solve the equation.

Eren also turned out to have an XBOX 360 and an old PS2 in his dorm room, as well as a whole selection of games he apparently co-owned with his fussy roommate. Which a definite plus, since she thought she’d have to cut video games out cold turkey once she left home.

“Aw, c’mon,” Eren said, voice sugar sweet. “Jean’s not so bad.”

Isabel looked at Jean, who funnily enough almost looked touched. “Really,” she said, slumping back against the wall behind Eren’s bed, his laptop balanced on her knees as she attempted to edit his paper. It didn’t need much work, but when Eren wrote papers in the early hours of the morning he apparently used ten times as many commas as a normal human being needed. Sometimes it looked like his sentences had secret morse code in them.

“Yeah,” Eren said, gesturing with the game controller as the boys waited for the 12th round of their seemingly endless fighting game to load. “I mean, look at him. With his ugly mug around I’m the most handsome guy on our floor!”

The almost fond look of friendship on Jean’s face dropped immediately, but in its place came a pink kind of rage that reminded Isabel of playground sand and creaky swings. Without a word he launched himself at Eren, growling something that was probably going to be a threat except he landed on Eren’s knee as the other boy flinched and tried to scuttle out of the way.

Isabel sighed fondly as she watched her friend (of two weeks, oh how time flew when she was doing nothing but homework and begging to die against a library desktop as her math textbook watched from beside her elbow) and his roommate act like children. She liked the noise they made, not to mention they usually took pity on her lack of cooking skills and either dragged her out to eat or fed her in the common room kitchen down the hall.

Eren was sitting on Jean’s chest while the other boy hauled the brunette into a headlock, twisting him down until they were all tangled together and spitting curses like upset kittens, when someone knocked on the door. Their door didn’t close right (Jean said it was Eren’s fault, but Eren swore it was Jean’s fault), so the knock jarred the door open, leaving it swinging open to two wrestling idiots framed by their assortment of dirty laundry on the ground.

“Awww, that’s cute,” said the big blonde guy in the doorway. “Should I get you two some mood music and candles?”

Jean let go of Eren so fast he fell forward and hit his head against the floor. Isabel smothered a laugh under her hand as they both kicked and flailed to get away from each other, spitting denials so fast they slurred together.

“Oh my god,” Eren said, craning his neck to shoot a disgusted look at everyone. “I wouldn’t touch Jean with a ten foot pole unless it was to beat him with it.”

Isabel found it funny that Jean looked more offended by that than the insinuation that they might have been fucking on the floor. “Dude,” he said, “that’s harsh.”

Eren blinked at him dumbly. “Dude,” he answered, which meant they were going to argue for ten minutes before they were satisfied that their friendship built on being dicks to one another was A-okay. Which, honestly, Isabel didn’t mind listening to, but the big blonde brute at the door looked a little more impatient with their weird little ritual.

“So,” she said, scooting over to stick her head off Eren’s top bunk bed and introduce herself. “Hi.”

The big blonde, who’s shoulders touched either side of the door, jumped a little, eyes flying up to meet hers. “Oh,” he muttered, “you must be Isabel.”

Something warm bubbled in her chest. “Awww,” she cooed, glancing fondly at the floor. "Eren’s been talking about me?”

“Uh, no,” Blondie denied. “Jean wouldn’t shut up about you eating the last cheese stick last week.”

Isabel wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, but her fond smile turned into a scowl pointed at the floor just for something to do. “Ugh,” she said, “idiots.”

Eren waved merrily. Isabel’s scowl twitched back up into a grin.

“To be fair,” Blondie hedged, “Eren has talked about you.” Isabel was marginally more pleased by this, watching as Eren flipped his roommate and pinned him down with a shiteating grin. Jean looked extremely sour about this new development, arms caught and pinned against his own back as he scowled.

“I’m Reiner, by the way.”

“Nice ‘ta meet ‘cha,” Isabel said, swinging one arm down to shake his hand. He leaned in and his hand was so large it dwarfed hers, squeezing only slightly before he let go and went back to leaning on the doorway.

“What do you want,” Jean wheezed, glaring sullenly from the ground. Eren was sitting cross legged on the small of his back, bent forward so that half of his weight was on his shoulders and head, Jean’s arms trapped between their bodies. Jean probably could have gotten free if he wanted to, but they were so close to the TV by that point the probably didn’t want to risk crashing into it and breaking it.

“We were setting up a football game for tomorrow morning out in the fields,” Reiner told him, turning his attention back to the two boys. “Wanted to know if you two were up for it?”

“Bruh,” Eren said, almost wiggling in excitement. Jean yelped quietly at the movement. “We’re in.”

Jean opened his mouth, probably to snap at Eren to speak for himself, but then he rolled his eyes and smiled, just a little bit in the corner of his mouth. “Fuck it,” the pinned boy muttered, “why the hell not? What time?”

“Ten, out on the furthest field in the back.”

Isabel noted with a little frown that no one asked her if she’d like to play. “Me too,” she chimed in, pointedly crossing pointedly her arms over her chest. “I want to play.”

Every pair of eyes in the room swiveled to look at her. Jean and Reiner looked like they didn’t believe she was serious, but Eren was grinning, wide and bright, beaming at her like he wasn’t surprised.

“Oh,” Eren said, still grinning even as he slipped to the side, falling off Jean to sprawl atop a pile of shirts so wrinkled Isabel imagined she could see faces in them, scowling in disgust. “This is gonna be fun.”

Isabel didn’t know how to tell him she had never played (or understood) football in her life.

He found out soon enough anyway.

“Oh my god,” he said, shaking as her throw landed about twenty feet to the left of where she had been aiming and maybe ten feet short. “You’ve never played football in your life, have you?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, which was sort of rude, considering she had shoved her way into this and he had also bought her coffee this morning on the way to the field. “I didn’t think it would be that hard, okay?”

It was much, much harder than everyone made it look, but Eren only laughed for a moment more before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like I figured and jogging off to get the ball. It was such a stupidly shaped ball, of course it was weirdly hard to throw. How was she supposed to automatically know how to throw it? Levi and Farlan had been into soccer in high school, not football, so she had never needed to know before this moment.

Eren brought the ball back to her, grabbing her hand without any warning and playing with her fingers until he was satisfied with the way she was holding it. “How’s that feel,” he asked, head ducked down to her height, and she was suddenly glad that he had gotten her up an hour early to get to the field for “stretching and shit”, because it meant no one else had to see her fail.

“Okay,” she said slowly, “but how do I throw it?”

“Line your fingers up like this,” he said, tapping her fingers along the white lines on the football, “and then pull back. You’re throwing it like a baseball, but you need to throw it with less wrist and more push forward.” He watched her move her elbow around for a second, unsure and clumsy, before he laughed and shook his head. “Want me to show you?”

Sighing she shoved the ball at his chest and crossed her arms, glowering up at him in the morning light. It was still only the beginning of October, but already it was starting to get cold. She missed her southern falls, where the heat lingered until well into November and December.

“Armin had a lot of trouble learning too,” Eren said, mentioning his friend from back home. Then he proceeded to throw the ball, slowing and exaggerating his movements so she could study them. She nodded and when he fetched it for her, she tried herself. It flew, but it wasn’t quite right.

“Don’t worry,” Eren said, shaking his head as he jogged out, again, to go get the ball where it lay. “We’ve got time. The others are always late to this kind of shit, especially when it’s first thing in the morning.”

Eventually she was able to throw the dumb thing straight, to the point where it almost spiraled the way it did when Eren threw it. She screamed in unadulterated joy and the older boy didn’t even bother catching it, instead whooping like she’d won the lottery as he ran over to haul her into his arms and spin her around. She touched down again on the ground, breathless with laughter, already tired arms still thrown above her head.

“Told ‘ya you could do it,” Eren cheered, beaming like the rising sun, and Isabel’s first instinct was one she hesitated to squash. Something must have shown on her face, because Eren paused in his cheering, face twisting (again, like a confused puppy) to peer down at her with concern. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I just-“ she stuttered, feeling awkward for the first time since he’d barged into the alleyway with his dumb Pokemon reference. “Urgh, take a selfie with me!”

Isabel loved taking pictures of things. Selfies were probably her favorite, but she had taken photography in high school and found she loved it. Instagram was a wonderful invention, as was Snapchat, but she had been resisting bombarding Eren with dumb pictures in case he thought it was weird and didn’t want to be her friend anymore. Which sounded stupid, but she liked being Eren’s friend. College was a lot less frightening when he was waiting in the library’s Starbucks or texting her in the middle of his history lecture about the guy three rows down playing video games instead of taking notes.

She waited for him to crinkle his nose and say something like oh god, selfies? but he didn’t. Instead he said, “okay, but let me go get the ball first,” ducking away to retrieve it, leaving her gaping. She was still staring at him, mouth open and a little flustered with shock, when he came back.

“What,” he said, blinking. “You wanted to take a celebration selfie, right?”

Yes, she did. She really, really did. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, fingers trembling with a mixture of relief and excitement. Without a word she threw an arm around Eren’s shoulders and he ducked to accommodate her shorter height, her face stretching into a huge grin as Eren held the ball up and beamed. The phone chirmed at her as it took the picture and she rocked back on her heels, keeping the arm around Eren’s neck as he ducked closer to look over her shoulder.

“Try the third filter,” he said, “it’s my favorite.”

Isabel peeked up at him, eyes wide, and he just looked at her, blinking a little defensively as she stared.

“What,” he exclaimed. “It’s a good filter!”

It was a good filter. It was her second favorite filter, actually, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “You’re giving me your handle once I’m done with this,” she said instead. The distant noises of his friends approaching reached them across the field, but Eren only shrugged, leaning against her shoulder as she captioned and posted the image.

Made a new friend and learned to throw a football. College is great! #exceptforthehomework #fuckhomeworkman

Hours later, after she had proven she could take a little more action than a simple two-hand touch game (and even scored a few touch downs, since she was infinitely better at catching the ball than throwing it), there were two notifications on her phone.

“ThatJaegerKid,” she read aloud, squinting at her phone in the sunlight. “Really, Eren? That’s your username?”

“Oi,” he protested, jostling her from her position wrapped piggy-back style around him. “Yours is, like, fucking French or something, okay, you can’t say shit.”

“PetiteOiseau,” she said, all in a rush, tilting her words with the best mimic of her brother’s accent that she could. It was still probably shit, but underneath her arms Eren whistled low in his throat, obviously impressed.

“What’s it mean,” he asked, later, when they were sprawled out in the cool lazy wind of the season at a cute little café down the street from campus. “Your username,” he clarified a second later. “It’s pretty, but I don’t speak French, y’know?”

Isabel smiled, hunching down in her seat in the shade. Eren had let her have it without protest, his darker skin soaking up the sun without threat of burning, unlike hers would have. Even from the few hours this morning she was already turning pink.

“It means ‘little bird’,” she explained, shifting forward onto her elbows. “It was my brother’s nickname for me as a kid.”

Eren grinned at her, bruise blooming on the edge of his jaw from one of his other friend’s tackling him earlier, and laughed. “Man, my sister just called me things like ‘dumbass’ and ‘oh my god, Eren, stop that or I’m going to make you sorry’. You’re brother sounds like a fucking push over.”

Isabel considered the thought for a moment, laughing a little bit at the thought of Levi’s face if she called him a push over. “Only for me,” she hummed quietly. Eren snorted before getting distracted by the arrival of his burger, which he tore into without another word.

He didn’t seem to notice the picture of him she took, hair still a sweaty slicked up mess, ketchup on his puffed out cheeks, but later there was a notification that he had liked it. Her caption on it read I think I’ll keep him @ThatJaegerKid. She even used his favorite filter.

(She ignored the comment on it that said “put him back, he looks mangy”, because her brother was wonderful and loving and an absolute pain in the ass. Eren seemed to find it funny though, snorting when he saw it and asking if he could comment back telling Levi that he’d already gotten his rabies shot this year.

“Absolutely not,” Isabel told him. But the next time he took a selfie he captioned it #doIseemmangytoyou, which made her choke on her laughter in the middle of her 8am math class.

Her teacher was not amused. She didn’t imagine that her brother would have been either.

But he wasn’t here and she wasn’t lonely anymore, so she was keeping Eren, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.)

Chapter Text

October was supposed to pass quickly and cleanly, but Reiner invited all three of them (Jean and Eren and then by default Eren’s freshman tag-along, which Eren hit him for because Isabel wasn’t just a tag-along, she was his Friend) to Marco’s Halloween party and therefore started The Argument.

The Argument was a month-long affair over what they would dress up as for Halloween. It was agreed, almost immediately, that they would wear matching costumes. Jean argued against it, but in the end Isabel pouted at him, saying how much it would mean to her if they all matched and he melted. Eren had to leave the room that day so that his laughter wouldn’t ruin the moment, because Isabel was a genius mastermind who had everyone wrapped around her little finger and he loved it. From there the only issue was what they would wear.

Hence the month of pros and cons lists, group texts Jean didn’t want to be a part of, and finally The Decision.

It was a week before Halloween and the party when Jean snapped. They were arguing about cowboys/cowgirl outfits over zombies and Eren suspected his roommate had reached his limit. Isabel had been muttering about dressing him up as their Faithful Steed (“Well, Jean’s the only one with a car, hence, the Faithful Steed role, y’know?”) or about having him be their Pet Human (“Brainless! It’ll be perfect!) when Jean whirled around from his desk. Eren watched, biting his lip to hide his amusement, as Jean flushed bright pink, glowering down at the girl sprawled across the pillows she’d stolen from both of their beds.

“Batgirl!” Jean roared, throwing his hands in the air. His pen flew through the air, hitting the far wall by the bathroom door. Isabel blinked up at him.

“Excuse me,” she said, all prim and proper, the picture of a perfect lady. “Why are you shouting?”

Jean looked about three seconds away from stabbing her with the pencil he grabbed to replace his pen before he took a deep breath. “You,” he snarled, gesturing at her. She pointed to herself, eyebrows raised and Jean shook. “Are going. To be. Batgirl.”

Isabel seemed to consider this. Eren bit his lip even harder, because he knew she was doing it just to wind his roommate up. “I do like Batgirl,” she muttered, but he could see the sparkle in her eyes.

“Good,” Jean said, flat as could be. He turned to Eren now, absolutely boiling for a fight. “And you are going to be Robin.”

Eren’s amusement left him. “Hey,” he said, sitting up, “no way, that leaves you with Batman!”

Jean sighed, loud and explosively. “I’m not going to be Batman, you idiot.”

Eren scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms over his chest. Minecraft was temporarily forgotten behind him. “Then who’s going to be Batman,” he wondered.

“No one. Is going. To be. Batman.”

Eren wanted to argue further, because Jean’s plan seemed a little flawed, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. Jean was at the end of his rope, so Eren rolled his eyes and turned back to Minecraft, saving it without another word.

“C’mon, Izzy-bell,” he muttered, reaching down to help her off the floor. “Let’s leave Jean-bean to stew.”

Jean twitched when Eren mispronounced his name to make the rhyme work, shooting them one last glare over his shoulder as they left. Isabel managed to keep her giggles to herself until they left the dorm, at which point she exploded, loud and bell-like, head thrown back.

“Jean-bean,” she asked, eyes squinted mostly shut. Eren grinned.

“We got really drunk last year,” he explained with a little shrug. There was way more to the story, like the crying and the hugging and the fact that Jean had called him Eren-bear. He knew she was going to find out sooner or later, but for now he rather liked having his dignity. Isabel laughed again, her nose scrunching, and when her shoulder bumped into his he bumped back gently.

Jean took them shopping for costumes the next day. Eren and Jean immediately began fucking around with the jumpscare props, stepping on the little “try me” buttons on the floor. It was almost ten minutes before they realized Isabel had been filming their reactions, including the one with the scary little fucked up babies that had Jean scrambling up into Eren’s arms while Eren screamed so hard his voice cracked. Eren kissed his dignity goodbye as she giggled happily to herself, apparently unfazed by the plastic scare tactics from Hell.

“C’mon,” she said, hooking her arms through both of theirs once she had saved the video into her iCloud, so they couldn’t steal her phone and delete it. “Let’s go try on hats.”

Jean stayed out of most of the pictures, although eventually they did manage to charm him into changing his mind. He looked rather pleased with the outcome, especially since he was the one in the cowboy hat while Isabel and Eren wore a unicorn and horse mask respectively. Isabel conned him into taking a few more pictures with them until their growling stomachs drove them to actually find the costumes they came for and leave.

Jean, the asshole, got a Spider-man costume.

Eren was still annoyed by the time they got dinner.

“No, seriously,” he said, gesturing with a fry. “Spider-man doesn’t match. You’re disappointing Izzybell, here. You promised and you broke it. She may cry.”

Isabel, despite Eren’s words, chewed happily on her burger without input. Eren rolled his eyes at her, since he had been hoping for a little back up with this. She swallowed her bite, wiping at her mouth with the side of her wrist as she swung her legs under the table.

“Hey, think of it this way,” she said, smiling, “at least Jean’s gonna be wearing a mask, so you won’t have to look at his face all night!”

Jean squawked, offended, but Eren laughed so hard he choked on his fries. Isabel preened, like a fluffy little bird, and Eren couldn’t help but grin, ducking his head as Jean half-heartedly pounded on his shoulder in an attempt to help him breathe. Eren shoved him away after a second and they returned to their dinner in peace.

(Later Eren had to bite his tongue, because @corporalcleansalot commented on the image with Jean in it, writing, “put him back, he looks almost as mangy as the other one,” on it barely an hour after Isabel posted it. He didn’t know if he should be offended or not, but in the end the only reason he didn’t tell the guy to go fuck himself was because it was Isabel’s brother and she had oh so nicely requested he not pick fights with him or his housemate.

And by “oh so nicely requested” Eren meant she threatened with a spoon while sitting on his bed, eating his icecream.

Somehow he wasn’t even mad.)

Isabel came over to get ready for the party in their dorm, hauling with her a makeup bag that was frankly ridiculous. As far as Eren knew (though he knew quite a lot, after sharing a bathroom with her for ten years) Mikasa had only ever worn a little bit of eyeliner and some foundation, but the lengths Isabel took to get ready were astounding.

“What is all that stuff anyway,” Eren asked, slumped next to her. She’d commandeered his desk with a mirror and a bunch of little tubes and tins that she scattered everywhere. There was some kind of dark glittery powder on his class notes, but he didn’t care. Isabel hummed at him, hair pinned up and out of her way.

“Some of it’s foundation, some of it’s eye-shadow… That’s highlighter and that’s finishing powder…”

Eren listened as Isabel explained what she was doing, dropping down to rest his chin on the edge of Jean’s bottom bunk. Jean came in at some point, wearing his Spider-man costume with his hair still wet from his shower. At that point Isabel was swiping on her lipstick, which was a bright sparkling red, and when Eren turned to glance at Jean she ducked forward, smacking a loud exaggerated kiss on his cheek.

“Mwah!”

Jean snickered, but when Isabel twisted to look at him he shoved his mask down over his face before she could get him. She rolled her eyes, turning to grab a wipe from her bag before she held it out to Eren.

“Here,” she said, “lipstick’s sticky.”

Eren considered it, but in the end he honestly didn’t care. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It adds to my rugged Robin charm.”

Isabel shot him a fond look that he would have bet money on meaning oh yes, this is my dumb idiot before she laughed quietly. She wiped up some of the makeup she spilled before turning to perch on the edge of the desk, curling her arm around Eren’s neck.

“Need help with your mask,” she asked absently as she fiddled with her phone. Eren saw her open up Instagram and grinned, ducking down to her height.

“Nope,” he said, but in the end Isabel had to put down her phone and help him anyway. She even put eyeliner on both him and Jean, to make their eyes pop even more through their masks. It was only after that was done that they wedged themselves together, Eren turned so the kiss mark printed on his cheek was shown and Jean with his mask wedged on top of his head, hair peeking out.

Happy Halloween! Crime doers beware, because we’re on the prowl ;) @The JaegerKid @HorsingAroundDowntown

“God, I regret letting you make me an Instagram,” Jean muttered, rolling his eyes as they left the dorm. Isabel laughed, before making a strange expression, part fondness, part sadness. Eren wondered if she was thinking about her brother or his housemate.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she sing-songed. “You weren’t saying that earlier when you took like ten selfies at the gym!”

Jean huffed, pulling down his mask to hide the way his cheeks went pink. Eren didn’t quite laugh, but it was close, the sound cut off by the way his roommate dug his elbow into his gut as they went down the stairs.

Jean vetoed letting Eren and Isabel have control of the radio, but it didn’t matter since the house was only about ten minutes away. Marco’s house was always the party house, mostly because he was one of the few who didn’t live in the dorms or in an apartment complex. Eren knew maybe half the people at these parties, not because he was particularly antisocial, but for a tiny house the place was packed. He hooked his arm around Isabel as they climbed out of the car and Jean lead the way, squeezing in the front door and making a beeline for the kitchen. Eren and Jean had come to an agreement about this earlier in the day, so when they ducked in from the crowd they found Marco ready at the counter with a line of shots.

“Hey,” Marco said, smiling so that his freckles crinkled. Jean didn’t twitch at the sight, which made Eren strangely proud.

“Hey,” Jean replied, reaching back to take a hold of Isabel’s arm. “This is Eren’s freshman.”

Isabel rolled her eyes, elbowing him sharply. “I have a name y’know,” she muttered, making a face at the side of Jean’s head. Jean grinned, craning his neck to look at her, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Yes, but such language isn’t good for Marco’s delicate ears.”

Marco laughed, good-naturedly, while Isabel huffed even harder. “Hello Isabel,” Marco said, twisting to shake her hand. “I’m Marco.”

“And I’m thirsty,” Jean cut in, clapping his hands. Eren rolled his eyes, waving at Marco over Isabel’s shoulder as she drifted back toward him. “What’re we drinking, bud?”

“Uh, jello shots,” Marco said, suddenly eying Isabel with a little bit of worry. Eren shook his head over her shoulder, because they’d had the Are You Sure You Wanna Go To A College Party And Drink talk twice this month already. Isabel had flatly refused to listen to anything they had said, planting her hands on her hips and demanding they treat her like the adult she was.

(The adult that was still under the legal drinking age, but whatever. It wasn’t like Eren and Jean had much room to talk with the shit they got up to last year. Hell, they were still technically underage, but it was the principal of the thing.)

Jean whooped, since he had a deep seated love for fruity drinks, before whirling to face Eren. The brunette raised an eyebrow at him, his own eyebrows creeping up toward his hairline as his competitive nature clashed.

“Loser’s stuck as designated driver,” Eren explained, shaking out his hands a little. They were going to rock-paper-scissors it, best two out of three. Isabel snorted a little bit, though Eren knew she had been confused a second before about what they were doing.

“Ready,” Jean asked, smirking.

“Bring it,” Eren answered, his own lips curling into a crooked grin.

It was over before it ever began.

“Son of a bitch,” Eren swore, hands dropping down to his side. “This is such bullshit.”

“Thank fuck,” Jean cheered, throwing his hands into the air. Like the asshole he was he did a little victory lap around where Eren stood before swooping down upon the counter where the little plastic shot glasses were lined up. He grabbed two and slurped them down without a pause to breathe. He dropped the plastic shot glasses on the floor, ignoring the way Marco mock-grumbled and rolled his eyes, before grabbing two more. Then he turned, shoving a bright pink one at Isabel.

“Drink this,” he commanded, looking like a complete maniac with his mask still scrunched up on the top of his head.

Eren took note of the tense nervous line of Isabel’s shoulders and wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her lightly. “But only if you want to,” he reminded her, sending Jean a look over her shoulder.

Isabel settled against him, taking a deep breath and going still. Eren watched the resolve cross her face and he couldn’t help but feel a little bubble of warm affection for the younger girl for the way she reached out and curled her fingers purposefully around the little shot.

He was corrupting the youth of his school.

(Mikasa and Armin would be so horrified. Probably not surprised, but still horrified.

He still missed them.)

Isabel glanced up at him, eyes bright and smile bold. “Hold my hair for me if anything goes to shit, ‘kay?”

Eren laughed, shaking her shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry,” he promised, “I got your back, Izzy-bell.”

The small freshman beamed at him before turning to her shot with a fierce look of concentration. Jean held his up and they knocked the plastic rims together before slamming them back. It didn’t work, because it was jello, but with some slurping and more tongue than Eren wanted to see from either of them, they both downed the shot.

Isabel shuddered lightly, lips smacked at the taste. Her eyes were wide and she immediately turned toward the line of cups before glancing up at Marco.

“Have as many as you like,” the dark haired student said. Jean was already reaching for two more. Marco twisted around, reaching for glasses and pulling out bottles from different cabinets and Eren watched him mix a drink with a little nagging feeling of longing. Marco seemed to sense this, shooting him a look over his shoulder as he mixed.

“You’re welcome to crash here for the night if you want to drink,” he offered. And as tempting as the offer was, Eren took one look at Isabel with her black little Batgirl costume and shook his head.

“I better keep my head outta my ass for tonight,” he said, shrugging at Marco’s curious look. “Until she knows how to handle her drink I don’t wanna just leave her to it, y’know?”

Marco shot a quick glance between the flushed face girl bouncing beside Jean as he made a rum and coke for her and Eren. The brunette in the Robin costume made a face back at him, understanding what he was implying without needing words. Marco didn’t look convinced, gesturing to his own cheek and humming quietly to himself in a way that made Eren want to put his foot in his mouth and bring up things he shouldn’t.

(It was only later that Eren remembered the kiss print and had to admit that Marco’s suspicions weren’t without evidence. And it wasn’t like these guys saw him hanging around a lot of girls, since Annie had decided to go out west for school instead of coming here. It was just- Isabel was his Friend. He understood her and she understood him. Together they were perfect partners in crime, so everyone who wanted to shove them together in a dumb little romance box could shove it.)

A surprised little cough drew Eren’s attention back to the pair with the litter of empty spit-covered plastic shot glasses between them. Isabel’s eyes were watering behind her mask, which lead him to believe she had tried throwing back the drink Jean had made her a little faster than she should have. Jean laughed, clinking his cup of rum and coke against hers before he threw his back too, albeit with more practice.

“Oh, they’re going to be fun come morning,” Marco noted and Eren only resisted kicking him because abusing Marco was like beating up a bunny rabbit and that just wasn’t cool. Instead he shot him a look that hopefully translated how utterly unhelpful that comment was. A second later he had an armful of excited Isabel, which ended up distracting him from the face Marco made at him.

“Eren,” she shouted, the way people who weren’t used to being tipsy did when they got too excited, “I love this song!”

Eren had a general rule about not laughing at drunk people (at least any more than he normally would laugh at them), but he couldn’t help but snort as Isabel tried to drag him out of the kitchen and toward the music. He had another general rule about not dancing sober, but he followed her willingly enough. He let the eighteen year old pull him into the moving mass of bodies, watching with only a little bit of surprise as she fell into the beat like dancing was something she had practice in. Eren did his best to mimic her, but he knew from the way she laughed that he was doing a terrible job of it.

The night continued like a game of ping pong between the dance floor and the kitchen counter. Sometimes Isabel would drag Eren with her and sometimes she’d just be gone the next second, leaving him either dancing with strangers or leaning against a wall while everyone else got a little bit more wasted by the minute. When he was in the kitchen he hopped up on the counter and talked school and video games with whoever was in there, but when he found himself on the dance floor he usually ended up wriggling out until he was free, flushed and heart hammering in his chest. Eventually the clock struck about 2am and the party finally began to wind down, which meant he roped Marco into helping find Jean and Isabel while Reiner and Bertholdt herded everyone else out the front door.

Jean was table top dancing, as he had a habit of doing when he had too much to drink. Getting him down was easy enough and Eren slung his arm around his shoulder, ignoring the way his roommate nuzzled into his shoulder as they stumbled along together. Reiner and Bertholdt were the ones to find Isabel, sticking their heads back into the house saying that she was out in the backyard.

What they had neglected to mention was the fact that she was up a tree.

“Uh, Izzy-bell,” Eren said, craning his neck to see her in the dark. He could mostly make out her red hair and pale legs curled around a tree branch for stability. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m tryin’ ‘ta- oof!”

Eren had the horrible mental image of Isabel teetering out of the tree and cracking open her skull. He dropped Jean to the ground quickly, jogging closer to the tree and wishing he had a flashlight. The girl was craned up in the tree, apparently aiming for the birdhouse in one of the higher branches. Eren bit his tongue, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or swear.

“Isabel,” he called up. “Seriously, what are you doing?”

“I wanna sing ‘em a lull-a-lullabye,” she slurred. Her hand waved at the bird house, almost touching it.

Eren pursed his lips. Somewhere behind him some asshole was laughing and honestly, he didn’t quite blame them.

“And you couldn’t do that from the ground?”

Isabel stopped trying to reach the bird house to give him a puzzled look through the darkness. “No,” she said, “’cause I’d hafta shout. It’d wake ‘em.”

Unfortunately that made perfect Drunk Sense, which meant he couldn’t argue with it. So, since he didn’t have any better ideas, he went for the really underhanded tactics.

“Hey, aren’t you hungry?”

(This as a trick question. Isabel was always hungry. Always. She could have eaten twenty minutes ago and she would still be hungry. She ate more of their snacks than they did. The true way to the redhead’s heart was most certainly through her stomach.

Not that Eren could really talk. He was a cheap bitch for a good batch of cookies, after all, but still.

He wasn’t the one up a tree, now was he?)

“Oh. My. God. I’m starving,” Isabel whispered. Eren thanked whoever sat up in the clouds, because the girl looked down at him like she wasn’t even aware birds or their tiny little houses existed in the world.

“Dude,” Jean said from behind him. “Me too. I’m fuckin’ hungry... dicks.”

It was so hard not to laugh. Probably the hardest thing Eren had ever done. Reiner didn’t have his same issues, tipping over into the side of a bush with the force of his giggles.

“Really,” Eren said, turning to look at Jean. He had lost his mask somewhere along the course of the night, so his hair stuck straight up and the eyeliner rimming his eyes was smudged in the corner. “You’re hungry for dicks, huh?”

Jean sputtered for a second before seeming to consider this more seriously. “Yeah, sometimes,” he admitted, “but right now I really want pancakes.”

Reiner was sent into a second bush with this statement, his laughter so loud it echoed into the night.

“Pancakes,” Isabel hissed like some kind of possessed tree spirit. Eren had been hoping Reiner would help him get her out of the tree, but he was sitting down, shoulders shaking with helpless little giggles, so he wandered over, eying the distance between the girl and the ground warily. Just as he was beginning to believe he’d have to take her to the ER with a broken leg before the night was over Bertholdt came to help him, using the extra foot of height he had on literally everyone to reach up into the tree.

Isabel took one look at the outstretched arms trying to help her and apparently decided the fastest way down would be to fall. She did so, squeaking with her own giggles, and Eren had never been so happy in his life that Bertholdt hated drinking. He wasn’t sure anyone could have caught her without hurting themselves, but Bertholdt did so, easing her to the ground where Eren could hook his arm around her waist and haul her along with him. Marco was reaching for Jean, but Eren waved him off, feeling a little bad when the freckled student’s face fell.

“Go on inside, man,” he told him, smiling. “I can handle these two no sweat.”

In reality he was a little worried about what Jean would do in the arms of his former crush. He wasn’t worried that Jean still liked Marco, because that fiasco was luckily behind them, but Eren knew what alcohol could do to a lonely heart.

And besides Jean was a handsy drunk.

“Ugh,” he groaned, Isabel’s face mashed against his shoulder as Jean used his two inches of height advantage to shove his face in Eren’s hair, nose brushing by his ear. The trip to the car wasn’t long, but it was like being in a sack race, coaching his drunken wobbly cargo forward one step at a time. He shoved them both in the backseat, so that he didn’t have to listen to an argument about who got to sit shotgun. He drove them to IHOP, where a bunch of other tired looking costumed people sat in booths, slouching to the side or giggling tiredly to each other.

Eren ended up buying both of them a stack of pancakes as well as bacon and eggs. He made them both order water despite their whining and by the time Eren was finished the pair were curled against each other, eyes closed and mouths open. The waitress looked more amused than annoyed, probably used to this, but before Eren woke them he hauled out his phone and twisted around on his side of the booth, holding the camera up so that it could capture his smug grin with the two dozing idiots in the background.

Some people just can’t handle a full night of crime fighting, he captioned it, tagging both of them. He also added on #ortheirfuckinboozelol on there as well, because he felt he deserved at least one jibe at the drunken mess they made. Then he shoved his phone in his pocket, wished the waitress goodnight, and went about getting them both back to the dorm room.

It was easier said than done.

Chapter Text

Being drunk was almost as fun as everyone made it seem, right up until the next morning. After that it was the worst hell Isabel had been through, including her wisdom teeth removal surgery.

Everything hurt. Her hands hurt. Her legs? They hurt too. Why did everything have to hurt? And that wasn’t even considering her mouth and what her tongue tasted like, or the way her head literally pounded every time she so much as shifted. She groaned as she woke up, only to find that only made her head and throat hurt even more.

It was just Awful. Like, the Awfulest.

The only reason she didn’t come after Eren to claw his eyes out was the entire morning he didn’t laugh at the way she and Jean moaned like they were dying.

He didn’t even laugh when Jean fell out of bed in his scramble to go throw up in their bathroom. There wasn’t even a giggle. Jean had still been in his Spider-man costume and everything, the same way she was still in her hellishly tight and short Batgirl outfit.

If anything Eren spent the whole morning hovering over them both like a flustered middle aged parent with their first sick toddler. It was kind of sweet, actually. Especially when he rubbed her shoulders and let her borrow his shirt, even though she had her own clothes. She hadn’t been smothered in so much affection and worry since she’d left home.

Eventually, after drinking enough water to drown herself and taking the pain-meds that Eren gave her with a look at bespoke absolute sympathy, they ventured outside the dorm room. Isabel changed into a pair of skinny jeans she had left there the afternoon before, though she was pretty sure the sweatshirt she pulled over her head was both dirty and Jean’s. The owner of said sweatshirt wasn’t in any state to complain, since he had drunk about twice as much as she had and he weakly requested fries and a vanilla milkshake as they left. They ran down to the nearest fast food place that had both fries and milkshakes and brought back their bounty, sprawling across the floor and watching cartoon reruns on their shitty TV all night.

Isabel fell asleep between one breath and another during a commercial break and when she woke up she was on Eren’s bed instead, with the older boy asleep on the ground. She woke Jean up on the way to the bathroom and when she came out he blinked at her blearily, eyes bright and mouth hanging open.

"Donuts," he muttered weakly. "I really want donuts right now. Do you?"

Isabel took a long moment to look inside herself, nose scrunching as she considered it. "Yeah," she said eventually. "Yeah, donuts sound good." She ended up stealing one of Eren’s beanies to hide the state of her hair and they wobbled out to his car for breakfast, coming back with enough doughnuts to keep them stuffed until dinner.

“What,” Eren said groggily, when Jean kicked him awake, box still in hand. “No good morning kiss?”

“You can kiss my ass, Jaeger,” Jean muttered. “Now get up or I’m letting the midget have your coffee.”

They ate and once there was enough caffeine and sugar in her bloodstream to make her teeth buzz in her skull Isabel decided enough was enough. She had lived with her brother for far too long to deal with much more of this filth, so she stood up, planting her hands on her hips and glowering down at the two boys whose cheeks were still puffed out like chipmunks from their food.

“We are doing laundry today,” she told them.

Jean gulped, looking visibly terrified. Eren just groaned.

That was how they ended up at the laundromat just south of campus, the one with the best wifi. Eren and Jean curled up on the plastic chairs by the outlet plug while their clothes were in the washer, but Isabel hauled herself up on an empty dryer and sat, criss-cross applesauce. She pulled out her phone to play around with it, only to notice it had been turned off sometime during the course of the weekend.

Isabel had a bad feeling about this, but she turned it on anyway. Seconds after the screen came on (proving that she was right, it had been turned off and hadn’t died instead) and the powering process was completed it started buzzing and chirping, completely out of control.

“Everything okay over there,” Eren asked absently. He was supposed to be writing a paper, but she had a suspicion he was playing solitaire.

“Yes,” she said, even though that was a lie. There were a slew of notifications from Instagram, as well as some from Twitter, Facebook, and…

She had four text messages.

She covered a wince as best she could, but she would have to have been blind to not see the way Eren was checking on her from the corner of his eye. She clicked on the messaging app before the notifications on any of the social media ones, taking in the names on her phone with a clenched jaw.

There were two messages from Hanji, one from Erwin, and one from Farlan.

She was both furious and grateful that there wasn’t a message from Levi. The contact in her phone under his name said she hadn’t texted him since the third day of school and the thought made her stomach clench. She opened Erwin’s first, assuming it would be the least upsetting, and immediately regretted her choice.

Levi was chalk-white in the picture, his hair slicked back with a trickle of fake blood trailing from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. The fangs that pressed against his bottom lip were horridly fake, but not as fake and tacky as Mike’s werewolf makeup. The blond man was behind Levi, the back to the little box he, Hanji, and Farlan made around Levi, which was probably the only reason he’d be caught in the image. Levi only looked slightly annoyed while Mike’s eyes were bright and cheerful, though his lips were still curled in his usual sneer-smirk. Hanji and Farlan were boxing Levi in on either side, with the first dressed as some sort of mad scientist and the other dressed as a modern day glam rock kind of vampire. There was soot-like makeup smudged on Hanji’s cheek and Farlan had his hair spiked up with colored gel and while there was a bright white doctor’s coat on one side of the image, the other was all black leather and shiny silver studs.

Isabel knew without needing to be told that if she had been home for the holiday, she would have been a vampire hunter, with a crooked hat and a cross necklace (or three). She might have even waggled her way into a cute little skirt and high heels without getting too many raised eyebrows and smart ass remarks. It would have been…

Tears sprung to her eyes and she wanted to blame them on the exhausting weekend of being Really Fucked Up from Friday night, but she couldn’t. She hardly glanced at Erwin’s caption (“Miss you, Little Bird,” it read and fuck him, fuck him so much for hurting her like this) before she clicked back, selecting Hanji’s texts instead.

quick whats ur address im sending u cookies, read the first message. The second was just as lacking in punctuation and correct grammar as the first.

nvm stole it from levis phone <3 also dont listen to ur brother the boy is cute and u should keep him

Isabel let out a wet little laugh almost against her will. Out of everyone Hanji was the easiest to miss, because whether she liked it or not they texted her every couple of days with little updates on their life. They didn’t mention the others much, just their experiments, how their coffee tasted, and what the traffic was like. It kept her connected to the city without too much homesickness, which was nice.

She hesitated to click on Farlan’s text message, because his texts always had a habit of making her feel like she was spinning out of control. Just looking at it had her heart thundering in her chest, to the point where she got a little dizzy. After another minute of staring at the contact within her phone she clicked out of the app, switching instead to look at her Instagram notifications.

It wasn’t much better. There was the picture she had taken before the party (not only had Eren and Jean liked her image, but there were also likes from Hanji, their assistant Moblit, Erwin, Mike, Farlan, Levi, and who Isabel could only assume was either Mikasa or Armin from the fact that they had also gone through and liked all her other pictures with Eren in them), but there were also other images. One posted during the party, taken by Jean, of the two of them stood atop what Isabel vaguely remembered was a table, the rest of the party’s crowd behind them, and then the other what must have been directly following the party. Jean was bent against her side, head on top of hers, and she was curled under his chin, both of them crammed into what she assumed was an IHOP booth. There were two plates of half-eaten pancakes in front of them.

The last image was one Eren had taken during dinner the night before, when the three of them had been huddled inside blankets, laps full of burgers and fries, milkshakes stashed on whatever uncovered flat surface they could find. Her hair was a mess and her face was still smudged with the previous night’s makeup, which was mostly because she hadn’t realized that anyone was taking a photo of her. Jean was only half in the image, blurred with motion as he fell over backward (Isabel remembered him groaning that he was waiting for Death to be kind to him, which had made her groan in agreement at the time) but she was in clear focus. She was still wearing Eren’s shirt, but Jean’s sweatshirt was tied around her waist, peeking out from under the comforter she’d stolen from Eren’s bed. The caption was short and simple, no hashtags, no mocking.

It just read, home is where the heart is with the handles she and Jean had for Instagram after it.

She didn’t even read the comments on that image, ducking her head down to her chin as she let the phone’s screen go dark. She knew Levi and Farlan (possibly even Hanji and the rest of her brother’s surprisingly nosey co-workers) were following both Jean and Eren, since they posted pictures of each other regularly, but she didn’t care.

It took her a few minutes to move her fingers, but when she did she unlocked her phone and hit the center button on Instagram to bring up the camera feature. The boys were back to their own little worlds, though Eren was still turned toward her, and so she raised the phone without fear of them noticing. Jean had been running his hands through his hair until it stuck straight up, laptop balanced on one knee while his notebook was balanced on the other one. His shirt was wrinkled and Isabel was almost sure it was backwards (or it could have been designed that way, to be honest Jean had some really weird shirts) and he was wearing his only pair of clean sweatpants, which were only clean because they were about six inches too short on him. Beside him Eren looked much the same, though the sunlight had turned his skin golden until he glowed and his hair mostly stuck out, not up. He was wearing cargo shorts and a tank top, hoodie abandoned on the chair next to him as he balanced his own laptop on both his knees. She made sure the sparkly unicorn stickers on both of their laptops were visible, angling her hand to get the light just right so that it haloed them a bit in the frame. Then she snapped it, pulling it back to drop in her lap as she decided on a filter.

She gave it the same caption as Eren had, tagging both of them in it as she did so, and then she waited. Only a few seconds later Eren’s phone beeped quietly with the notification, which made her heart hammer in her chest. He reached for it, swiping his finger across the screen because he was too lazy for a passcode, and she watched him navigate his phone until he paused.

Isabel looked away as Eren glanced up at her, a warm feeling pushing away the clawing hole of homesickness that had bloomed inside her chest at the sight of Erwin’s picture. Eren smiled at her, dumb and soft, and she rolled her eyes down at her phone before picking up her head to stick her tongue out at him. He laughed, returning to (what was hopefully) his homework with a lingering little grin.

(She read Farlan’s text that night, back in her own dorm, while her roommate was in the shower. It said, “Your absence is like a stake in our hearts. Happy Halloween from home <3” and Isabel deleted it before she could do something dumb, like save it to her phone and cry.

In the end she cried anyway, but all her roommate did was give her a small sympathetic smile and pass her the tissues.

Homesickness was such a bitch.)

-

The weeks after that lead up to midterms and were mostly spent with every waking hour either at class or studying in the library. Jean and Eren stopped messing around and buckled down, with a weird system of note cards and candy rewards she didn’t understand very well. The light at the end of this hell tunnel was that once she was done with her last mid-term she could go home for Thanksgiving break. And with that thought in mind time passed faster and faster until suddenly she was standing outside Jean’s car at the bus depot, bent over to peer in the passenger window at the two boys staring at her with large worried eyes.

“What is it, Eren,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She knew what he was going to say, but she let him say it anyway.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait,” Eren said. It wasn’t the first time he’s said it and Isabel didn’t think it would be the last.

“Yes, Eren,” she sighed, rolling her eyes fondly. “I’m sure. Go home and study, I’ll be fine.”

Jean shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, eying the bus depot behind them. The boys had parked, refusing to just pull up and drop her off because, and this was the exact quote, “creeps were at bus places, man, like, creepy creeps”.

(Eren Jaeger, a boy of many classy words and sophisticated opinions. Bless his sweet little pea pickin’ heart, as one of their foster mothers would have said.)

Honestly Isabel didn’t mind waiting at the bus station by herself. The Greyhound would be there within the hour and from there it would just be a three to four hour ride home. Levi had wanted to come pick her up, but there was a last minute emergency at the office that had called both him and Farlan in early that morning, so he hadn’t been able to come up and get her. She didn’t mind, though, and when her last class of the week had finished earlier that afternoon she had bought a bus ticket with the money Levi sent her and grabbed her bag. But on the other hand…

Isabel sighed, rolling her eyes as she rocked back on her heels. “Oh come on,” she said, shifting the bag on her shoulder as she moved to let Eren open the door. “If it’ll make you stop looking like a pair of mutts I’m leaving out in the rain you two can sit in the dirty bus station with me until my ride’s here.”

Eren and Jean were out of the car so fast she almost got whiplash. She laughed, especially when Eren immediately took her bag from her shoulder, slinging it over his like it weighed nothing (it didn’t, it weighed a lot, but he was much bigger than her, so it didn’t appear to affect him the same way). Jean was at her side in an instant, shoulders hunched, scowling like he didn’t want to be there, but when he took a step forward their shoulders bumped together softly.

Levi would be a little happier to know she hadn’t been alone at the bus depot, since that had been one of his main concerns too, but she didn’t tell them that. The boys got a little touchy whenever she mentioned her brother and she knew, for whatever reason, that telling them they were doing something her brother would approve of was only asking for trouble.

Isabel felt her heart squeeze when the bus pulled up and she had to leave. They stood side-by-side and waved at her as the bus pulled away and through the grimy window she managed to snap a picture of them, posting it to Instagram as the bus left town.

I miss them already, she wrote on the image. They both liked the image almost immediately, which made her slump down in her seat and laugh, eyes prickling with tears.

(It was weird to think that she would miss being at college after two months of missing home so much. But it wasn’t really college that she would miss, but her friends.

But she would see them again soon enough, she figured, clenching her jaw with determination. And if Jean and Eren could see her off without crying like a pair of babies than she could leave without waterworks too.)

-

It was dark by the time she glanced out the window and recognized the streets the bus was driving down. Her heart clenched and her stomach rolled, everything inside her rocking around like a race track at the thought that she was finally Home. She hadn’t been to the bus depot before leaving town, since Farlan and Levi had driven her, but she was still familiar with the sight, biting her lip as the bus stopped, lights coming on so that everyone could depart.

It wasn’t hard to spot her brother and his longtime friend once she stepped out of the bus. Levi was standing, shoulders hunched, scowling at the dirty ground, but Farlan had his head turned toward her, streetlight casting shadows across his hazel eyes in a way that made her knees weak. She bit her lip as she bounced onto the concrete, shifting the bag higher up on her shoulder. Farlan said something to her brother, which made him turn, his shoulders dropping as he saw her.

And when he turned and looked at her she couldn’t help herself.

“Levi,” she shouted, rushing forward, bag hitting awkwardly against her leg. She hadn’t been in the best of shape before leaving, but the boys back at school had kept up their weekend football games, so she barreled toward her brother like Reiner was hot on her heels, throwing herself at him without a second thought.

Levi caught her (of course he did, he always did, he was her big brother) and he smelled familiar, like office paper and coffee and ink (and just faintly like chocolate, because her brother had a sweet tooth almost as bad as she did). She buried her face into his shoulder, feeling them teeter back a little bit until Farlan stepped behind Levi, towering above them both and blocking out the streetlight overhead.

“You fucking menace,” Levi muttered against her hair, arms squeezing around her middle tight enough that she could hardly breathe. And then, all at once, the air seemed to leave him, making him a warm limp weight leaning against her, his chin digging in against the top of her head as she ducked further down against him.

“Welcome home,” he whispered, voice hoarse, and Isabel cursed herself for wanting to cry again.

Chapter Text

"Our baby’s all grown up and leaving the nest," Eren said as the bus pulled away from the station platform. Beside him Jean snorted, but neither of them moved until it turned a corner and left their line of sight.

"Aw shit," Jean said, running a hand through his hair. It still took another minute to shift his weight onto his heels. "We’ll see her in a week, man." He turned to go back to the car and with a sigh Eren followed him.

"Do you think this is what parents feel like on the first day of pre-K," Eren asked idly. He ducked down into the seat after hauling the door open, pulling it shut as he buckled in with his other hand. Jean made a face at him, but before he could say anything their phones went off almost simultaneously.

The picture that Isabel had posted of the two of them waving at her through the window made Eren’s chest hurt, which he didn’t mind too much. He wished he had thought to take one of her before she left, but he hadn’t. He double tapped it to like it instead, scrolling down to type in a comment before he locked the screen.

"God, I hope this isn’t what it feels like," Jean said starting the car. His phone was in his lap, tucked against his thigh. "Raise a fucking kid with you? That sounds like a goddamn nightmare."

Eren shoved at his shoulder lightly, grinning, but then Jean’s face changed. His roommate sighed, deflating a little, glancing in the rearview mirror before he backed up, both hands on the wheel.

"I bet this is how her brother felt, though," Jean muttered from the corner of his mouth. "He’ll probably be happy to have her home."

Jean didn’t mean to, but it was sharp reminder that there was no one back home waiting for him to come back. Eren bit his lip, slumping down in his seat, wishing for things he couldn’t have. The fact that he had control of the radio couldn’t even brighten his mood on the way back to the dorms.

(Mikasa and Armin were both staying at their colleges for the holiday, deeming it too much hassle to go all the way home just for a few days. The only person back home he could have gone to was his dad.

He wasn’t spending eight hours on a bus just for three miserable days with his dad.

Ramen for Thanksgiving dinner cooked in their shitty common room kitchen was better than that, thanks.)

Jean and Eren didn’t have the same class the next day, but they finished at about the same time. They bumped into each other in the lobby of the dorm building, leaning against the back wall of elevator as they rode up to their room. Once there they collapsed on their bunks, though Eren seriously considered just collapsing down on the floor instead, exhausted after the all-nighter they pulled studying. But only ten or twenty minutes after they arrived Jean hauled himself up off his bed and started to pack.

“Dude,” he said when Eren didn’t move. “When’s your bus leave?”

“Never,” Eren told him, still lying on top of his blanket because he was too lazy to move. Silence met his answer, so he rolled over, opening his eyes a tiny bit.

Jean was like an inch from the edge of his bed, staring up at him. Eren bit his tongue on a scream, just barely keeping from scrambling up and knocking his head against the back wall.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Eren snapped, feeling unsettled by the expression Jean was wearing. He had thought his roommate knew that he wasn’t going home, since he tweeted at Armin, like, constantly.

“You’re not going home for Thanksgiving,” Jean said. It may have been a question, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Please tell me you’re not planning on making ramen and playing Call of Duty all night by yourself.”

“Uh,” Eren said. “I mean, I thought about making mac ‘n’ cheese, but-“

Jean held up a hand to cut him off, nearly hitting Eren in the nose with his finger. Eren considered biting him, because shutting someone up with a held up hand was rude as fuck. He didn’t, though, because a second later Jean was grabbing his phone from the edge of his desk, leaving the room in long strides as he shook his head in exasperation.

“What the fuck,” Eren asked, but his roommate was already gone. He stared at the door for a second longer before rolling back over, dragging his blanket with him as he did so. A few minutes later, just as he was starting to drift off, the door opened back up.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Jean said, climbing up onto the bottom bunk so that he could reach for Eren on his top bunk. Eren whined as his roommate grabbed him, shaking his shoulder until he rolled back over. “Pack your damn bag and c’mon.”

Eren blinked at him blearily. “What?”

Jean rolled his eyes so hard Eren was kind of worried he’d fall over backwards. “Leaving you to rot here alone is depressing. Pack your fucking bag and get in the car, okay? Mom says she doesn’t mind one more mouth to feed.”

Eren was reminded of the year before, getting drunk and slumping under a streetlight, arm wound around Jean as they both sat on the curb. It had been a bad night for their livers and a worse morning the next day for their heads, but he didn’t regret a single second of that night. It had been the turning point for them, when he reached out to Jean and asked if he needed a hand.

(Jean had told him what he could do with his fucking hand, but only after he had taken it and slumped against Eren’s shoulder, face pressed against his throat. Eren had patted his back and swayed drunkenly with him until a car nearly ran them over for standing in the street.

The memory made him want to smile.

Good times.)

“Fuck,” Eren swore, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. It was greasy from not having been washed since before Isabel left. “Can I take a shower first?”

“Sure,” Jean replied, smiling just a little bit like the dumb big sap he was. “But hurry, we gotta leave town soon if we’re gonna get there before dinner.”

Jean’s hometown was five and a half hours away. It was just past one o’clock. Eren really didn’t want to know how fast Jean planned to drive, but in the end he took a ten minute shower and threw a random handful of clothes in his duffle bag, carefully grabbing his phone charger and laptop before shoving his feet in his sneakers and pulling on his hoodie. Jean was sprawled out on his bottom bunk by the time Eren finished, so he wandered over, bag on his shoulder and hair still wet.

“You’re not going to make me listen to your oldies shit, are you,” Eren asked, bending down to peer at his roommate’s face. Jean smirked without opening his eyes and Eren considered dropping his bag on the idiot’s face and just climbing back into his bed instead.

In the end he still got in the car.

(Ramen for Thanksgiving was really depressing, okay.)

Jean’s car was too old for an audio hook up for their phones, so they had to use CDs or rely on the radio. The radio was shit, since they moved through so many areas, so they went with the stash of ancient CDs Jean had in between the seats to get them through the hours. Eren had unfortunately been subjected to Jean’s flare for old music so much that he recognized more than half of the shit that he was forced to listen to.

The Elvis CD Jean put on about halfway through their trip wasn’t too bad but by the time Jean pulled out the second Beatles CD Eren was weighing the pros and cons of throwing himself out of the car door just to make it stop. It was around the same time as the lyrics for the first song started that he realized he hadn’t talked to Isabel all day.

Save me from the Walrus Whosit, Eren texted her, slumping down in his seat. He put his feet up on the dashboard to wait, but he didn’t have to wait long. Her response was almost immediate.

What the fuck, she responded. Why are you being attacked by a walrus? The fuck are you even doing???

Right, Eren remembered suddenly; Isabel didn’t know about the change in his plans. Oops.

Jean kidnapped me to take home as a trophy husband and he won't stop playing the Beatles???

Isabel didn’t respond for the rest of the song. Eren made as many miserable faces as he could, but all Jean did was crank the volume up some more and sing along at the top of his lungs. Finally, just when Eren was giving up hope on ever getting a response, his phone buzzed against his thigh.

I literally just fell off the couch crying Levi is so worried jfc the fucking wALRUS WHOSIT god I'm gonna PEE

Well, that was unhelpful.

fucku, Eren typed back, hitting send sullenly. The Beatles weren’t the worst band in the world, but there were only so many songs he could listen to before it felt like his brain was melting and turning into a zombie’s dream smoothie. She sent back a message with a little kiss emoji, which made his lips twitch with amusement despite his Very Dire Situation.

Eren cursed the system he and Jean had worked out last year, where they switched who picked the music for a long trip so that one person had complete control on the way there and the other had control on the way back. It was fair (usually), but it meant that for really long trips (like this one) he wanted to weep.

It wasn’t the last time that trip that he cursed the system either.

Three Beach Boys CDs, one collection of 80’s top hits CD, and about eighteen thousand games of Temple Run later Jean finally pulled off the highway into his hometown. Eren wasn’t paying too much attention to the city layout, mostly because he was doing spectacularly well on his run from the demon monkeys, but it was only a few minutes later that he noticed the cutesy setup of the neighborhood they turned into, with big green yards for the individual houses, most which had white picket fences for their backyards.

“Oh my god,” Eren said, looking up from his phone and consequently dying a horrible death via demon monkeys. He didn’t really mind. “You’re neighborhood is-“

“Don’t say it,” Jean snapped, but he was slumped back in the driver’s seat, smile pulling at the edge of his lips. Eren watched him with a little bubble of envy building in his chest as he navigated the neighborhood with ease, because the closer they got to their destination the more relaxed and relieved Jean looked. If only going home felt like that, Eren thought wistfully.

Eren mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key like he was a kid just as Jean slowed down at the house with, like, six other cars parked in front of it. Eren was a little thrown back at the sight, because at least four of them were minivans.

“Uh,” he said as it occurred to him that he’d forgotten to ask how many family members Jean’s parents were having over. Jean took one look at him and burst out laughing, parking the car with ease between the tiny green VW Bug and the white minivan with two different middle school honor stickers on its bumper.

“Oh man,” Jean laughed, shaking his head side to side. “You didn’t even ask. Fuck, you’re so in for it, I have so many baby cousins. And my aunts, Jesus fuck-“

Eren hoped desperately that Jean was exaggerating.

(He wasn’t.)

“Oh my god,” he whispered later, when they were finally alone. The kids had been put to bed, the long winded process that took an hour, and the various aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other adults that had spent all dinner talking in loud boisterous voices over one another were drinking together in the kitchen. Eren sprawled sideways on Jean’s bed, staring at the far wall. He swore his ears were still ringing.

Jean laughed. “Dude, honestly, if you think that’s bad you should see family reunions. We’re missing my uncle and aunt from down south and some cousins from out west right now, so this? This is totally tame for them.”

Eren could only blink. “There’s so many of them,” he said. He immediately regretted it when Jean blinked back, his face going a little slack.

“Shit,” Jean said, “that’s right, your family’s small as shit.”

It wasn’t meant to be cruel, but Eren felt his chest seize at the words anyway. “Always has been,” he muttered, rolling over to stare at the ceiling instead of look at his roommate. “Both my parents are only children and their parents died before I was born. We didn’t really do family reunions.”

Jean made a low noise, coming closer, and Eren closed his eyes. He didn’t want an apology or any sympathy, but in the end he didn’t get any of that shit. He just got a nudge in the ribs and a terse, “scoot over,” before Jean crawled over him and collapsed down beside him, their arms brushing.

“Dude,” Eren said, squirming back toward the edge of the bed. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Unless you wanna share the air mattress with my cousin Thomas you’re bunking on the bed with me,” Jean muttered, cheek squished into the edge of one of the two pillows. Eren peeked at him, but his roommate was curled slightly on his side, eyes already closed. They were both still wearing the clothes they had attended class in, though their shoes were by the front door (at Jean’s mother’s insistence).

“If you kick me in your sleep, I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” Eren muttered. Jean snorted, too tired from driving and taking his mid-term to do anything more than curl a little closer. They were both asleep in minutes, the blanket still stuck beneath their bodies.

Jean didn’t kick in his sleep.

But he did drool.

Chapter Text

Iasbel woke up to a hand on her shoulder and a familiar scent in her nose that she couldn’t pinpoint immediately. In addition to that when she opened her eyes there was something looming over her, pale in the pre-dawn light, like a weirdly solid ghost.

She did the only sensible thing she could think of while half-asleep. She screamed.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Isabel,” her brother snapped, drawing back to avoid her kicking. “Chill the fuck out!”

Isabel went limp almost immediately, head dropping down against her pillows. Her bangs flopped her in face as her heart raced.

Levi.

Fucking Levi.

“What the fuck,” she asked the ceiling. It was still dark, what the hell was her brother even doing? She glanced at him, watching his face scrunch up in distaste, his mouth open to answer her when he was oh so rudely interrupted.

Isabel couldn’t help but scream again when Farlan burst in through her bedroom door like some kind of dark ages half-dressed knight in shining armor shuffling zombie. He was brandishing a baseball bat, his shirt on backwards and his sleep pants half way down his hips and hanging over his toes.

“What’s going on,” Farlan asked, squinting through the murky pre-dawn light. “Izzy? Heard you scream...”

Isabel waved a lazy arm in Levi’s direction, because this was all his fault. Levi made a face at her before turning to look at Farlan, who was slumped against the doorframe with his head leaning on his propped up arm. The bat was on the ground, leaning against his leg.

“I made pancakes,” Levi said, exasperated and a little too loud for the dark. He glanced between them pointedly, as if he was waiting for praise to be showered upon him. Isabel groaned.

“Why,” she whined, tossing an arm across her eyes. “Levi, it’s still dark!”

“She’s got a point,” Farlan mumbled, words almost unintelligible. “It’s like the ass crack of dawn, Levs.”

Levi wrinkled his nose at the nickname, crossing his arms over his chest. Isabel smiled at the sight, having missed his little frowns more than words could describe. “It’s a perfectly reasonable hour for breakfast,” he snapped. “At least for people who know better than to stay up all night like they’ve got shit where their brains should be.”

Isabel moved her arm just enough to share a look with Farlan. Yes, they had both been up all night playing GTA together, but this was the pot calling the kettle black.

“Levs,” Farlan said, because he was kind of an asshole, “you didn’t go to bed until after we did.”

Isabel snorted when Levi turned to glare at his oldest friend and housemate, jaw clenched. She was reminded suddenly of Eren and Jean, though Farlan and Levi usually got along way better than the two college morons she had befriended. She smiled faintly to herself, moving her arm again to block out the sight of her scowling older brother and sleepy slumped out housemate.

“They’re shaped like animals,” Levi said suddenly. It took her a moment to figure out he was talking about the pancakes he had made. It was kind of cute, because he said that like it would change the fact that he’d woken her up before seven am and scared the absolute hell out of her, therefore waking up Farlan.

“Did you make a cat,” Farlan asked, suddenly looking interested.

“Of course I made a cat,” Levi answered, sounding honestly offended. Farlan blinked, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips.

“Dibs,” he said, before turning to go down the hall and into the kitchen. He left the bat in her doorway, not seeming to care when it fell over. Levi snorted, shouting after the blonde that if he ate his rabbit he’d skin him alive. Isabel laughed a little under her breath as she let Levi haul her out from under her covers and to her feet.

Yeah, she thought, as Farlan tore into his cat shaped pancake like a wild animal. She had missed this, she thought, her plate full of a monkey, a turtle, and a giraffe.

She had missed it a lot.

“Oh my god,” Isabel said, a few hours after breakfast, when the sun was finally in a reasonable position in the sky. She was curled up on one end of the couch, wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tank top since it was still sunny and warm down south where they were now. Up north back at college she had been wrapped up in long sleeves and her hoodie, but with the coast on one side of town there was still warm breeze rolling in despite the late November date. This was the weather Isabel had missed so much, but instead of basking in it she was inside.

And she was bored.

“Isabel,” Levi said from the kitchen table. He had his laptop from work and about a thousand different papers scattered everywhere in the most controlled form of clutter he could manage. She grimaced at him, a little bubble of guilt in her stomach.

“I told you to go to work,” she said, shrugging back into the soft familiar furniture. Levi shot her a look, reminding her how unnecessary that statement was. He had apparently taken off of work until Tuesday, but to compensate for that he had brought enough paperwork home to counterbalance an elephant. Farlan had opted to go into work today to avoid the shitton of paperwork Levi was slogging through, which meant she could either go back to sleep, go out on the town by herself, or play videogames by herself.

She’d never been fond of doing things by herself, not since she’d had Levi and therefore Farlan to pester. Once she befriended Eren she had been able to use him and Jean to fill the void beside her, making them come to the laundromat with her or huddling in the corner of Starbucks with their laptops while Jean complained about how hipster it was. She missed them in the silence of their home, but it was nice having her brother back.

“Hey,” she said, curling further down against the couch, yawning as she did so. “Wake me when you go grocery shopping for the shit we need for Hanji’s party tomorrow, okay?”

Levi grunted, which she didn’t mind. She knew he wasn’t thrilled to be attending his co-worker’s We Have No Other Family So Let’s Huddle Together And Pretend It’s Okay Thanksgiving dinner. Hanji threw one every year and every year Levi tried to wriggle out of going, because every year it ended in off key Christmas carols (yes, it was still November, but honestly Hanji didn’t care) and so much wine that they ended up staying the night, curled into corners and hating their lives come morning. Isabel honestly loved it, but two of the things Levi hated in the world more than anything else were Christmas carols and hangovers.

(Erwin’s Christmas party was worse though; everyone singing louder and getting drunker. It was also hilarious because they were given Nerf guns at the party, so that they could practice their aim for the New Year’s party when the competition began.

No one had ever told her whose fault the competition was, but every year when the New Year’s party began they were given a handful of foam bullets and someone was appointed score keeper. When the clock struck midnight the last person left alive was dubbed the winner for the next year and given complete gloating rights over the rest of the attendees.

The only reason Levi didn’t complain about this tradition was more often than not he won. The only reason he’d lost the year before was that Erwin had decided enough was enough and had bribed, swindled, and bartered to have Levi killed in the first five minutes of arriving.

Levi had bitched about that for two months and in the end Erwin hadn’t even won.

They took their holiday traditions seriously, alright.)

Levi woke her a little more cautiously this time, throwing his pen in her direction and calling her name from the safety of the kitchen table. Isabel wiped the drool off her jaw and went to go wash her hands and face with a grimace as he stacked up his completed paperwork, though when she came out, hair up and tennis shoes on, he was on the phone.

“Hanji,” Levi snapped, looking exasperated, and Isabel swallowed back a laugh as she darted forward, snatching at the car keys from his hand. She had her license, but honestly Jean’s car had been so ancient and terrifying she hadn’t even asked to drive. Now that she was home though and Levi had such a nice car…

“Isabel, no,” Levi hissed, but it was too late. She grabbed her purse and hopped out the front door, dashing down the path toward the shiny little silver car sitting in the sunlight.

“Isabel, yes,” she called back, unlocking the car and swinging down into the driver’s seat with a grin. She had to adjust the seat a little, because while Levi was short he wasn’t that short, but by the time she had everything adjusted (seat, mirrors, radio stations, air conditioning off and windows down) Levi had hung up the phone and climbed in, scowling pointedly at the lazy way she was gripping the wheel.

“Oh calm down,” she said, grinning as she twisted around to make sure she was good to back up. “I had a great teacher, you know.”

“And once I had a very nice red car,” Levi muttered, slouching down in his seat. “Wonder what happened to that, huh?”

Isabel rolled her eyes, but she knew better than to fall for that bait. “Buckle up, you whiner,” she said instead, cranking the volume up until the rearview mirror trembled a little with the bass. Levi did as he was told, sighing as if it was a great burden upon his life. But he was smiling and Isabel felt something settle in her chest, like she had never actually left.

The trip to the store was quick and easy, just the way Levi liked it. It was busy as all hell since it was the day before Thanksgiving, but Levi had a list of everything he needed on his phone and Isabel had long since memorized where everything was in the store. They were back home just under an hour, arms laden with bags that they hauled in two by two, grunting and swearing as they both tripped over the crack in the front step that Farlan still hadn’t fixed. Isabel put most of the groceries away when Levi’s phone rang and he stepped outside to talk to Erwin, words a jumble of work nonsense in Isabel’s ears. She didn’t really notice the passing of time, nor when the voice outside fell silent, but eventually Levi came back in, an odd look on his face.

“Your boyfriend has a child,” Levi informed her, brandishing his phone at her. She choked, face twisting as she tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about. She snatched the phone, tapping her finger against the screen as she tried to figure out what she was looking at.

It was an Instagram picture that Eren had posted about half an hour before, one that Jean must have taken with Eren’s phone. There was a small child, three or four tops, wrapped around Eren’s shoulders like they had been wrestling, with dark hair and dark eyes, face scrunched up in laughter. The kid was pale where Eren was not and it looked like they were at a park somewhere, the brown and red leaves behind them scattered all over the ground. Isabel was torn between laughing and cooing, because on one hand the fact that Levi had come in here to show her this was ridiculous, but on the other hand it was a really, really cute image.

“Bruh,” Isabel said, peeking up at her brother. Levi made a face, looking disturbed at the slang, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “He’s not my boyfriend and that’s so not his kid.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at her, like he was trying to figure out if she was lying. “Are you sure,” he asked, taking back the phone to squint at it. “They look related.”

No amount of biting her tongue was keeping the laughter down this time. “No they don’t,” she said in between giggles, snorting as she reached for her own phone. “And here, I’ll prove it!”

Eren’s number was at the top of her favorites list, since he was the one she talked to the most. A few swipes and a tap later the phone was ringing against her ear, which she listened to with a hum as she hopped up on the cleared kitchen counter, staring down her strange older brother. On a whim (and because there wasn’t much Eren could say to embarrass her) she clicked the phone onto speaker phone, cradling it in her lap lazily.

“Yo, Izzy-bell,” Eren answered, strangely tinny on the phone. “Wassup?”

“Do you have a child, Eren Jaeger,” she asked, all mock serious and in her best I’m Your Disappointed Parent voice. Eren snorted, shifting on the other end of the phone with a bitten off laugh.

“Dude, no,” Eren said, “but Jean’s cousin Joshua has kind of decided I’m his person now, so Jean keeps complaining about how I didn’t put a ring on it before I forced him into the family life with me.”

Levi was making a face that kind of made her want to howl, but she didn’t, because then he’d probably swear at her and then Eren would hear and for some reason she didn’t want him to know that Levi could hear him.

“He’s the cute kid in the picture you posted, right?”

“Yeah,” Eren said, fond and soft and warm. Isabel missed him. “He’s actually here right now, wanna say hi?”

Isabel squeaked, grabbing the phone to haul it closer to her mouth. Levi rolled his eyes, moving to go collapse on the couch like a drama queen. Isabel ignored him, because after some quiet shuffling a cute little voice came out of the phone’s speaker.

“Hello,” the voice said carefully, soft and high pitched. “Are you Is-a-bell?”

Oh my god, Isabel thought. “Yes,” she said instead, trying not to scare the kid. She knew she could get overzealous sometimes and she didn’t want to freak him out with her squealing. “You must be Joshua!”

The kid hummed quietly and said no more. Eren laughed in the background, the sound getting louder as he supposedly took back the phone.

“Eh, he’s a quiet kid,” Eren explained, still laughing a little in the back of his throat. “Jean got stuck with all the noisy ones when Joshua here decided to cling to me. I think he’s outside right now trying to convince Emily to get out of the tree and wash up for dinner.”

Isabel grinned down at her phone, the picture of Eren in his contacts on her screen. He was doing the duck face, hair pushed up with gel, cheeks artificially red from the blush she had slapped on his cheeks. She loved that picture of Eren, even though it was a little gritty and shaky around the edges. She’d taken it just after the Halloween party, sitting in their room on a Sunday as she reorganized her makeup bag.

“Having fun with Jean’s family as his trophy husband,” Isabel asked, momentarily forgetting Levi was there. Eren laughed again, the sound static burst through her speakers, and she laughed too, ducking her head down as she did so.

“Oh my god, Isabel, his family is huge. Jerk didn’t even warn me at all, but he’s got like fifteen cousins over and so many aunts and uncles I haven’t even caught all their names. We’ve been sitting at the kids table because the adults table doesn’t have enough room unless I want an elbow in either side of my gut so deep they’re brushing.”

“You’re kidding me,” Isabel said, kicking her feet. “Sitting at the kiddie table like a bunch of babies!”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Eren said, sounding like he was shrugging. “Company’s good, right Joshua?” The little boy hummed in the background, pulling another giggle out of Isabel. “Plus this way no one notices when we sneak seconds and thirds on dessert!”

“Yeah,” Joshua said, suddenly excited. “I had four brownies last night!”

“Oh lord,” Levi said from the other side of the room, quietly enough the phone probably didn’t pick it up. “Four whole brownies.” Isabel stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes at the face he made back, but quickly became distracted by the sound of the motorcycle engine pulling up in front of the house.

“What’s that,” Eren asked, sounding distracted himself. “Motorcycle?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, hopping off the counter. “Farlan’s home.”

Eren made a noise that made her turn pink and wish she hadn’t put him on speaker phone before abruptly shouting. It sounded like he dropped the phone for a second, because his voice became distant as he shouted, “Jean, what the fuck are you doing on the roof?”

“Oi,” she could faintly hear Jean yell back, “don’t swear in front of the children!” There was another noise, like someone was picking up the dropped phone, before Joshua’s voice came through the speakers, still very serious and shy.

“Hey, Is-a-bell,” he said, stressing the syllables on her name again in what she assumed was an attempt to get it correct. “I think Eren will have to talk to you later.”

“Okay, sweetie,” Isabel said, only a little bit concerned about Jean. He probably wouldn’t fall off the roof, not with Eren there to yell at him for being dumb. Still though, shit happened. “Don’t let him yell at Jean too long, okay?”

“Mhmm,” the kid hummed, “bye.”

The line went dead and when Isabel looked up Levi was looking at her with arched eyebrows. “What,” she asked, shoving her phone in her back pocket and rolling her eyes. “You got something to say?”

Levi opened his mouth and then seemed to reconsider, rolling his eyes. “Nope,” he denied, standing up. “Go make sure Farlan got the mail, since you forgot to earlier.”

Farlan hadn’t forgotten the mail (he had never once forgotten the mail), but Isabel went anyway, just to humor her strange brother. By the time she came back inside, following in Farlan’s wake as she told him about their day, Levi was in the kitchen preparing dinner without a word. She forgot his weird behavior after a while, settling into their routine, where Farlan perched at the bar, she sat on top of the counter, and they both pestered Levi as he tried to get some peace and quiet. Dinner was loud (for them), Isabel and Farlan arguing happily about who they thought would pass out from drinking first the next day. They stayed up all night playing video games again, though this time Isabel kicked his ass in Mario Kart until they both crawled into bed around four in the morning.

Hanji woke them up the next day with a call, which had them all grumbling under their breaths about the excitable idiot. They got dressed and threw the groceries in the car, Isabel slumping over them in the backseat while Farlan slumped backwards, pushing the passenger seat back until the headrest was practically in her lap.

“Hey,” she said, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. “Get off of me, jackass.”

“Levs,” Farlan said, eyes shut. “Do you hear an ant talking? Because I hear an ant talking and it’s weird.”

“Can we get through one car ride without you two fighting like children,” Levi sighed, hands curling around the steering wheel. Both of them looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent, and he huffed out a laugh, grinning despite himself. The trip to Hanji’s house took them across town and with Thanksgiving traffic it was twenty minutes of Levi humming along to the CD in the player while Isabel dozed on and off with the sway of the car.

Thanksgiving dinner itself was, well.

Honestly Isabel didn’t remember Thanksgiving Day very well, since it was the first year Levi let her near the wine. She knew when they arrived that Hanji threw open the front door to let Sonny and Bean bounce around her ankles and that after that Hanji came barreling out to wrap her in the biggest bear hug of her life. She vaguely remembered Erwin handing her a glass and Mike arguing in her defense when Levi tried to snatch it away, but after that she mostly remembered good food and being squished against Farlan’s side on the couch, her face against his shoulder as she laughed hard enough that it hurt.

Being hung over the next morning was no more fun than it had been at Halloween, but this time she didn’t have Eren to hover and fret. She woke up to Hanji nudging at her side and grinning down at her, talking loudly about how much fun they would have shopping. Isabel let them manhandle her up if they promised to stop talking so loud, swaying as they were dragged behind them and out of the house. It was only when she was in the car did she realize Hanji had somehow wrangled her into a clean t-shirt and skirt combo she hadn’t been wearing before and that her hair was tucked oh so carefully up into a cute little hat with a flower on the side.

“Thanks, Hanji,” she muttered, when her brother’s co-worker pulled into the drive thru on a Starbucks. They hummed at her, smirking slightly out of the corner of their mouth, and ordered her a venti mocha frapp with three shots of espresso so that by the time they arrived at the stupidly busy mall Isabel was buzzing with energy.

“Oh my god,” she snorted, the world swaying a bit as she climbed out of the car. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course it is,” Hanji said, hooking their arms together and dragging Isabel forward, their legs much longer than Isabel’s and therefore covered way more ground. Isabel found she was wearing a pair of heels she didn’t remember putting on, which made her just tall enough to lean her head on top of Hanji’s shoulder when the sound of the overly crowded mall became a little too much for her sore head.

“So,” Hanji started, dragging out the word as they went into a clothing store with enough dresses to keep Isabel’s eyes jumping from one rack to another until her head spun. “How’s Operation Leave Town Until Your Heart Stops Being Stupid going?”

Isabel made a long drawn out noise around the straw of her coffee, nose scrunching as she did so. She honestly didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time she was kind of bursting at the seams to confine in someone. And since Hanji already knew the beginning (thanks to a mental break in her last year of high school where she thought she would throw herself off a bridge just to get some peace inside her own head) she pulled the larger brunette toward a rack of frilly red dresses that looked like they’d sparkle in the sun something fierce and started talking.

“Honestly,” she asked, flicking through the dresses. Hanji took her mostly empty cup, downing the last bit and ducking behind a counter to throw it away before returning to her side. There were so many bodies around them that someone had to overhead, but she didn’t care. “School was miserable those first couple weeks. I missed Levi and Farlan so much I didn’t want to do anything, let alone try to make friends. I told you about my roommate, right?”

“Nice girl but she’s got a friend of her own that she’s known since middle school, right? Tried out for a sorority or something?”

“Yeah,” Isabel sighed, pulling one of the dresses off the rack and taking a closer look. She held it up to Hanji, but they shook their head, curling their lip, and Isabel pushed it back on the rack with a laugh. “She’s okay, but she wasn’t, like, really interesting, you know? So I got lonely.”

Hanji made a sympathetic noise, pulling a cute orange-red dress off the rack and holding it up. It looked better against Hanji than it did against Isabel, but Isabel knew Hanji wouldn’t even begin to look of stuff for themself until she had at least three in her arms. She abandoned the red dresses, drifting over to the green rack instead. Hanji followed, lips curving up into a grin.

“And then you found Eren,” Hanji prodded, grinning wickedly. There was a tone to that sentence that made Isabel want to turn pink, but she bit her lip instead, turning away with a little huff.

“It’s not like that,” she said, fingers trailing down the side of a forest green dress with a wide square collar. She wasn’t quite sure she could pull it off, but it wouldn’t hurt to try on, so she grabbed it anyway. “It’s- he’s my friend, Hanji.”

Hanji didn’t say anything, which was a tactic they used to make Isabel talk. She wished it didn’t work so well, but she was hungover and twitchy from so much caffeine, so it unfortunately had her mouth opening like a charm. “He’s-“ she tried to say, frowning when the words wouldn’t come.

“You know how,” she tried again, but again they failed. She huffed, frustrated, storming over to the rack of blue dresses instead. The pants and shirts were on the other side of the store, but honestly she had enough jeans and t-shirts to last her a while. She hadn’t bought a cute dress in ages. “Eren is-“

But nothing came out. Eren was amazing and he was kind and funny. He never let her go hungry and he always explained things in a way that kept her from feeling like a dumbass and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t articulate why she was glad he was her friend. And yet at the same time…

“I wish I could like Eren that way,” Isabel sighed, deflating so much she almost dropped the green dress. Hanji was suddenly there, looming in a comforting way that almost blocked out the hoard of people in the store with them. They ducked down, peering at her through their glasses, and she gave them a weak smile in return. “He’s nice and he’s cute and I feel safe with him, but I’m not interested in him like that, y’know? He’s just not-“

She couldn’t say it, but Hanji didn’t look like they needed to hear it.

“Oh, babygirl,” Hanji tutted, curling an arm around her and hauling her smaller frame close. Isabel buried her nose against their neck, breathing in a long shaky breath to calm herself down. “It’s okay,” they whispered, “it’s going to be okay. You’re going to get a very cute dress, and text Eren later and he’ll probably make you laugh, and then we’re going to go back and show that idiot what he’s missing, okay?”

Isabel squeezed her eyes closed and let the thought wash over her. It was a good plan, especially the texting Eren part, and she honestly did want a cute new dress to stomp around in. “Okay,” she whispered back, letting herself feel small and secure in Hanji’s grip as the taller, older brunette curled their arms together again and started digging through the racks one handed.

(In the end Isabel came out of the shopping trip with two cute dresses, the green one and an aqua one Hanji swiped seconds before a middle aged woman in the wrong shade foundation could grab for it, as well as a hoard of cute accessories and three new pairs of shoes. She ended up texting Eren as they grabbed lunch, sending him a picture of herself and Hanji squished together, both grinning. He sent back a picture that someone else obviously had to have taken, since it had every single kid he and Jean were watching sprawled across the two college students until there was hardly any part of them left uncovered. She laughed at the sight of the image, her nose scrunching up in delight, and when the first Christmas carol played on the radio that afternoon they cranked it up and sung along, shouting the words out of the open car windows with delight.)

“Thanks, Hanji,” she said again as they pulled into the driveway, parking beside Levi’s little car. Erwin’s car was gone, but Isabel would have put money on the blonde still being sprawled across the couch, since he had easily downed at least two bottles of wine all on his own. Hanji raised an eyebrow at her, glasses slipping down their nose as they twisted their wrist to turn off the car.

“No problem, kid,” Hanji said, lips curling up into the same smile that made Moblit tear up in frustration some days. “Now let’s go in there and see if those fuckers are ready for round two, yeah?”

(Round two was more rum, whiskey, and tequila but less wine.

Erwin waved the white flag an hour into their drinking shenanigans, laying on the floor on his back with his hands over his face and his head in Mike’s lap. She took a picture of it and sent it to Eren, smiling to herself when she got a picture of Eren and Jean curled up together on Jean’s twin sized bed, Jean already asleep and drooling while Eren made disgusted faces from the corner of the camera’s view. She saved it to her phone, slumping against Levi’s side as she did so.

She didn’t remember the rest of the night, but she woke up in her own bed with the plastic bags from their shopping trip on the floor, so she didn’t worry about it too much. Her last thought as she rolled over to go back to sleep was that it really was good to be home.)

Chapter Text

Jean’s house was a hub of activity come breakfast time on Sunday, since everyone in the house was preparing to either drive or fly home. Jean’s grandparents were the only ones who had flown out, but they were still part of the mayhem that was going on from the moment Jean shook Eren awake to the moment they left. Everyone ate, shouting and laughing and throwing things over each other’s heads as they all tried to straighten out their luggage, and when Eren and Jean announced that they had to go (the second set of people to leave, since Emily’s parents had decided to go as soon as breakfast was on the table and in their stomachs) the whole family lined up to wish them off. Eren got more hugs that day than he had throughout the rest of his life, Joshua stubbornly clinging to his waist with a sad little scowl the entire time Jean’s aunts pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair and told him what a nice young man he was.

It was kind of heartbreaking to have to leave the beehive of madness that they had lived in for the past couple of days. Eren’s house had never been like this and he had just gotten used to it (and learned everyone’s names), but now he had to leave. Jean’s mother seemed to sense a little bit of his misery, dragging him into her arms just as she let go of Jean, hauling his tall frame against her warm plump one with a gusty, wobbly laugh as Joshua squirmed out of the way reluctantly.

“Oh Eren dear,” she said, reaching up to smooth his hair back from his eyes. It was a futile effort, but one that warmed his heart. “You are welcome here at any time, understand?”

Eren’s throat went tight and he was forced to nod silently, heart suddenly thundering in his chest. She smiled at him and patted his cheek, pulling him in for another crushing hug before she drew back, patting her hands down the sides of her dress as she smiled. There were tears in her eyes, which she laughed off, shaking her head when Jean muttering something about his sappy old mother under his breath.

“Go on, Jean-bo,” she said, everything about her warm and happy as she shooed them off. “On the road with you two or you won’t be home before dark!”

Jean jostled Eren toward the car, making noises in his throat like an impatient teenager, but when Eren looked at him his eyes were bright too, shoulders tense. Eren made it three steps down the driveway before a weight crashed into his lower back, little arms winding around his waist and squeezing him tight.

“Oof,” Eren said, for once not over exaggerating his wheeze as he reached for the arms shaking around him. “Hey, Joshua, it’s okay, alright?”

“I’ll miss you,” the five year old said, trembling against his back. Eren shot a helpless look at Jean, who just shrugged, smiling slightly from the corner of his mouth. Eren didn’t really know how to deal with kids when they were like this, but Jean came closer, crouching down next to the little boy and reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Hey,” Jean said, voice low. “Joshua, look at me, yeah?”

Eren felt the kid sniffle against his back, face turning against his spine to peek at Jean. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t unusual; Joshua was the youngest and the quietest of Jean’s cousins and, as far as Eren could tell, was somewhat overlooked in the ruckus that usually went on. Eren craned his head, watching as Jean smiled, wide and reassuring, hand spilling down to curl around Joshua’s shoulder.

“Eren’s not gonna be gone forever, okay? He might not be back for Christmas, because he’s got his own family, but there’s always our camping trip this summer, right? Did you think about asking him to come back for that?”

Joshua pulled back a little more and Eren was just able to twist around enough to catch the face he made. He half shuffled around to face the kid as Jean hauled him back just a little more, dropping down to crouch like his roommate to face the small child.

“Camping trip,” Eren echoed, widening his eyes. “I love camping!”

Joshua stuck his lower lip out, probably because he knew on some level that Eren was over exaggerating. “Really,” he asked quietly, dark eyes glancing up at the two college students crouched over him. “You’re really gonna come camping, Eren?”

Eren had no earthly idea when the camping trip was or what it would involve. But fuck, how could he say no to that?

“Of course I am,” Eren said, rocking back on his heels to give the little boy a mock offended look. “I’d miss you too much to stay away much longer, y’know?”

Joshua’s lower lip wobbled and for a horrifying second Eren thought he was going to have an armful of sobbing child. But the little boy just took a deep shaky breath, his little jaw clenching in an attempt to control his emotions. It was an action Eren knew all too well and suddenly he couldn’t stand it, reaching out to haul the boy into his arms and bury his face in his hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, squeezing around Joshua’s shaking shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, kid, I promise. I’ll come back. I promise I’ll come back.”

Tiny arms wound around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, and next to him Jean made a quiet noise, shifting to lean his elbow on Eren’s shoulder.

“Christ, Aunt May,” Jean muttered. He sounded like he wanted to say something else, but he cut off abruptly, sighing instead. “Shit,” his roommate whispered, “if I had known you’d do this to them I’d have left you to your ramen, man.”

“Liar,” Eren muttered back, squeezing Joshua again as his trembling slowly came to a stop. “You’d have still brought me, no matter what. What’s a roommate good for if it isn’t a fake trophy husband?”

Joshua laughed a snotty wet laugh as Jean made a noise of disgust. “Jesus, stop saying that,” his roommate griped, standing up. “Like you’re good looking enough to be anyone’s trophy husband.”

Eren made a noise in the back of his throat, exaggerated offense and hurt, and Joshua shook as he giggled, pulling back out of Eren’s arms. The little boy looked at him, cheeks mottled red and eyes still wet, smiling just enough to show off his missing tooth.

“Bye Eren,” the little boy said, turning to run back to his bemused looking mother. Eren swallowed past a lump in his throat, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets to ignore how they wanted to shake.

“Bye Joshua,” he said. He had to clear his throat, voice coming out a little more hoarse than he meant it to. “Bye Kirschtein clan!”

A chorus of bye boys! was shouted back to them as they turned to climb in Jean’s rusty little piece of shit car. The whole family stayed on the lawn, waving and smiling as Jean started the car, both of them buckling up before they pulled away. Jean reached for one of the CD cases in between them out of habit and Eren slapped at his arm, laughing in delight when horror dawned upon Jean’s face.

“Oh shit,” Jean said, face scrunching up in distaste. “It’s your turn to pick the music.”

“Fuck yes it is,” Eren snapped gleefully. His stash of CDs was kept in a zippered case, which he dragged out from under his seat without further pause.

What followed was five hours of as much alternate punk rock and pop music as Eren wanted. Jean was miserable (though not as miserable as he made himself out to be), but Eren sung along and tapped out beats on the dashboard, laughing whenever Jean cursed under his breath after recognizing a song. Eren remembered to text Isabel that they were on their way home at some point, but his phone slipped forgotten into the foot-well as one of his favorite songs came on and stayed there until they pulled into the parking lot of their dorm building, both exhausted and more than relieved to finally be back.

“Fuck,” Jean cursed, the car suddenly quiet as he turned it off, leaving Eren’s CD in the player at an obnoxiously loud volume. Eren hummed, agreeing whole-heartedly.

“Home sweet home, man,” he snorted, reaching for the car door. But before he could open it someone wrenched it open and out of his grip, their tiny frame bouncing in his lap as they reached out to hug him. He wheezed in surprise, Jean yelping beside him, but then he registered the red hair and grey hoodie, wrapping his arms around the frame in his lap with a laugh.

“Shit Izzy-bell,” he swore, grunting quietly as her elbow dug into his side. “You scared the fuck outta us.”

“You just missed my brother and Farlan,” she said, drawing back to lean against the dashboard. That gave Eren a gut full of her knobby knees, but he didn’t mind too much, shifting to give her as much support as he could. He unbuckled his seatbelt, slumping so that she couldn’t fall, and she gave him a tiny pleased smile that curved around the edge of her rose red lipstick, making her eyes extra bright.

“Oh what a shame,” Jean snorted, unbuckling as well. He opened the car door and ducked out before Isabel could drag him into a hug. The little redhead huffed, rolling her eyes at Eren before climbing over him and clamoring out Jean’s still open door, loudly demanding a hug. Eren bit his lip on a laugh, shoulders dropping as he climbed out his own door. Jean was giving the most reluctant hug of his life when he glanced over, but he knew that his roommate had missed the freshman almost as much as he had. Jean had just hit his emotional boundaries for the day, that was all.

“Hey, Iz,” Eren called, trying to save his roommate from breaking out into tears or something. “You hungry?”

“Bruh,” Isabel said, releasing Jean almost immediately. “I’m starving. Can we have pizza for dinner?”

“Sure,” Eren agreed, ducking down to get his bag out of the backseat. “Just let me drop the bags up in the room and I’m set to go. What about you, Jean?”

“Sounds as good as anything else,” Jean said, in the same voice he used when he wanted to seem tough and cool. Isabel shot a look at Eren, obviously biting her tongue on a laugh, and Eren shot her one right back, reaching out to tuck her under his arm.

“Missed you,” he muttered, squeezing her shoulders. She laughed, ducking her face against his shoulder, hips bumping as they walked.

“Missed you too, dude,” she said, twisting so that she didn’t stain his shirt with lipstick. “Missed you too.”

Chapter Text

The car ride home was quiet save for the music Levi had playing on his phone through the car’s stereo system. Farlan had leant the passenger seat as far back as it could go, arm flung over his eyes as he occasionally hummed along, but other than that he was almost like a corpse kept still by the seatbelt. Levi kept craning his head around to try and catch a glimpse of what expression his roommate was making, but it was the same blank slate every time, lips pressed into a thin line against his forearm. But the stillness inside the car was nothing compared to the tomb their house was, silence in every corner where Isabel should have been as they opened the front door and stepped in.

Levi shifted on his heels, twisting to drop the car key on the peg on the entrance wall. The jingle of the metal was loud, but not as loud as the explosive sigh that Farlan unleashed, the one that petered off into a growl as he lifted both hands into his hair and tugged.

“I’m going to go take a fucking shower,” the younger man said, stalking away with his shoes still on. Levi watched him storm down the hall, quietly toeing off his own shoes and leaving them in the entrance hallway before padding further into the living room. He wished he could roll his eyes at Farlan’s theatrics without being hypocritical, but the truth was he couldn’t, his own chest hollow at the sight of the empty couch and dark kitchen. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking it just in case Isabel had texted him while he was driving and he hadn’t heard the beep over the music. There were no new messages.

Out of a need to have some sort of stupid connection with her he tapped on the Instagram app, the one he only had taking up space on his phone because she had stolen his phone, made him an account, and forced him to use it during her senior year of high school. Hanji stole his phone often enough and fucked with enough of his shit (no matter what passcode protection he tried to use) that he had been forced to follow them on the stupid media site as well, so when the app finally opened he expected it to be one of their pictures to pop up at the top of his feed. Hanji had an overzealous fascination with photographing their two dogs, as well as whatever experiments they were getting up do down in the research department and the occasional cup of coffee they got from Starbucks with their name misspelled. But it wasn’t Hanji’s image that came up first.

It was Isabel’s.

His little sister was framed on either side by the two college boys she had befriended, the brunette (Eren) on her right side and the one with the two-toned dyed hair (not-Eren; J-something; Jean?) grimace-grinning from her left, his pizza slice halfway to his mouth, connected to him by a string of stubborn cheese. Both boys seemed to have their arms draped behind the redheaded girl as they squished together in the image, every set of eyes bright and aimed directly at the camera.

Levi sat down on the edge of the couch. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he almost slipped and slid to the floor, just like he refused to acknowledge how much missing Isabel was like a physical ache in his chest. He had to tap the screen once when it started to dim, bringing it closer to his face to study it more. Isabel’s lipstick was smudged on one side and Eren’s hair was so ruffled it was practically defying gravity. Jean (if that really was his name) looked like he was trying to pretend he didn’t want to be crammed in a pizzeria with them, but he was hunched over Isabel’s shoulder, fingers curling into Eren’s shoulder slightly. The filter made everything look faded, which was how Isabel liked her images to look, but he could still make out the peace in his sister’s expression, unadulterated joy turning her into the burning thing she had been as a small child.

He double tapped the screen when it started to dim again, a small heart icon appearing to let him know he had liked the image. Then he dropped the phone onto the couch cushion and rose to his feet, turning toward the dark kitchen in search for something to do. He could hear the water in the pipes as Farlan showered, but he figured that if there was anything to wash up from that morning he could always load it into the dishwasher and run it as they slept. Once he had done that he figured he could have a pot of tea, take one last look at the paper work he had brought home, and eventually go to bed. Instead of doing any of this he found a coffee mug sitting on the counter, turned just so that he could see the edge of a red lipstick print on its rim.

His heart didn’t lurch and his stomach didn’t drop, but he padded over to it like a man on death’s row, reaching for careful fingers around the base of the mug. There was more than one print on the cup, several of them lopsidedly layered, still shining in the dim light as he picked it up. He traced the marks with his eyes for a moment before turning to go to the sink, turning on the water with a little more force than strictly necessary, suddenly not caring that Farlan’s shower might run cold for a second.

Levi washed the mug carefully with a rag and a lot of dish soap, eyes studying the slow disappearance of the red mess intently. He told himself as he rinsed it off for the last time that the marks would be back one day. It was, after all, Isabel’s favorite mug, coupled together with her favorite shade of lipstick. The marks would be back, the same way she would be, loud and bright against the quiet white porcelain of their lives.

But that day wasn’t today, or tomorrow, or the day after, and his phone, like the house around him, was quiet in her wake.

Chapter Text

Hell Week was worse than Isabel had imagined. She had survived midterms on only two or three energy drinks and almost a full night’s sleep, but finals? She hadn’t slept for more than four hours in as many days and she had drunk three energy drinks within the last 24 hours alone. She was pretty sure once finals were finally over with she wouldn’t want to think about them ever again.

(She was ignoring the fact that she would have to do this all again next semester and the one after that and the one after that. If she stopped to think about how much of her future she was going to be stressed and sleep deprived, wishing she were dead so that she didn’t have to study anymore she might cry. Again. For the third time that week.

Eren promised her that she would get used to it, but he also promised her Red Bull would eventually taste good. She wasn’t sure if he was lying or not yet.)

Thursday afternoon when Eren came in from his last final he took one look at her and laughed, sharp and loud and just a little hysterical as he hauled his hoodie off over his head. She was curled up on the top bunk in the very corner, laptop next to her and notes strewn all the way down to the floor. Her hair was tied in a messy bun high enough up on her head that it was giving her a headache and she couldn’t remember when she had changed into one of their t-shirts, but it was what she was wearing when she glanced down.

“You’re so lucky our RA is shitting bricks over the paper due tomorrow afternoon,” Eren muttered, kicking off his shoes. “Otherwise your ass would’ve been out of here yesterday.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Isabel moaned, leaning forward to bury her face in her hands. “I can go back to my dorm if you need me too.” She didn’t want to, because Eren and Jean’s presence had been comforting since her roommate had already left on Tuesday, when the lucky bitch had finished her last test. She wasn’t inclined to return to the neat silence of her own dorm, but if it would keep Eren and Jean out of trouble she would deal with it. But Eren shook his head, crooked grin tugging at his lips as he ducked down to pick up some of her fallen notes.

“Lemme grab two more hours of sleep,” Eren said, dropping the piles of notes by her knee before patting it gently. Then he kicked off his jeans without an ounce of shame and crawled onto the bottom bunk, leaving her to crane her head to watch him shimmy under his roommate’s blankets and almost instantly drift off. She snorted at his behavior even as her heart swelled in her chest, since she couldn’t really fault him after he had stayed up all night cramming for his chemistry test. She mumbled her thanks, even though he couldn’t hear, and returned to her textbook and notes, neck aching as she did so.

About an hour later Jean came in, nearly repeating Eren’s process to a T. He made a face at the lump under his covers when he absent mindedly patted her knee before shucking off his pants as well and crawling under the covers anyway. She craned her head to watch him, feeling it crack wonderfully as she did so, and smiled tiredly as he somehow managed to shove Eren over far enough to sleep between the wall and his roommate. She shuffled her phone over from under the pillow at the opposite end of the bed and leaned as far as she could off the edge, twisting to take a picture of the way the boys’ hair stuck out from under the blankets. It was obvious their heads were bent together, Eren’s longer hair brushing against Jean’s blonde strands, and while she would have liked to think of a clever caption for it she was honestly just too tired.

stupid fucks and their lack of friday finals, she typed, tagging them absently before returning, once again, to her astronomy notes.

Eventually Eren’s phone woke him, making him clamor out from under Jean’s covers, squinting in the fading sunlight coming through the windows. Isabel appreciated absently the way his skin was a warm gold in the slanting, orange-ish light. She wanted to photograph him; not in a creepy way, but just because he arched, one hand in his hair as he brought the phone to his ear, face scrunched in an expression that made something in her twitch.

"Bruh," he slurred, answering the phone so familiarly it had to be Armin (Reiner would have just knocked on the door). "What the fuck?" He glanced up to make sure she was still there and she waved, still caught in the feeling that she should capture this moment for some reason. He smiled back before ducking his head, eyes moving as he focused again on the person talking on his phone.

"Who is it," Jean moaned, proving that Eren’s Mario theme song ringtone had woken him too. "Tell them I hate them."

Eren made a weird face, like he was trying to decide if he was going to be an asshole or An Asshole. “Hey Armin” he said, twisting a step away from the bunk bed, his decision apparently made. “Jean says he lo-“

Isabel had never seen Jean move so fast. One second Eren was standing alone in the middle of the room in his boxers and a t-shirt and the next Jean was tackling him, shouting incoherently, also clad in his boxers and a t-shirt. They fell to the floor, yelping as they knocked into a desk chair, and Isabel laughed for what felt like the first time in days, rolling her shoulders with the mirth.

"You guys are so gay," she told them, climbing down from the top bunk to pluck the phone from Eren’s hand. Jean was trying to get to it and Eren was trying to keep it away, but taking it away from him wasn’t hard. A laugh sounded from it, proving that somewhere in the struggle speakerphone had been turned on.

"Actually," Armin said, still laughing, "I think Jean is bisexual. But Eren? Eren’s probably gay as hell."

"Probably gay?"

"Definitely not straight," Eren said, slightly muffled as he kept Jean from lunging at her, getting a mouthful of the other boy’s t-shirt. That made Isabel laugh again, fond warmth flooding her chest as the way Jean’s face twitched in exasperation.

Isabel honestly didn’t know Armin very well, though Jean tweeted back and forth with him most days and Eren occasionally skyped him, but what she knew she liked. But she couldn’t help but notice Jean, cheeks faintly pink and eyes trained on the phone in her hand, especially considering the sentence Eren had been saying before he’d been tackled into silence. Before she could form any coherent thought about it, though, Armin spoke and distracted her.

"You don’t finish your last final until tomorrow morning, right, Isabel?"

Isabel nodded, sidestepping the two boys to perch on the edge of their abandoned cuddle nest. When she remembered Armin couldn’t see her she groaned out an affirmative, tempted to flop backwards and cry at the thought of the cumulative astronomy exam at 7:30am the next morning.

"That sucks," Armin said, sounding like he meant it. It made Isabel like him more. "Jean was complaining about it earlier, since apparently you and Bertholdt are the only two with exams tomorrow."

Isabel scrunched up her nose. “Excuse me,” she said, directing a Look at Jean. “Why were you complaining about my exam?”

“Oh shit,” Eren yelped, sitting up so fast Jean fell over and knocked his head against one of the rolling wheels of the chair. “I forgot to tell you about the party!”

Not that being home for several weeks on winter break wasn’t nice, but for the first time that week it seemed like there was a light at the end of this hell tunnel. Eren crinkled a wicked grin her way when she visibly perked up, leaning off the bed and raising her eyebrows at him curiously.

“Party, huh,” she asked. Armin laughed on the other end of the phone again, but the sound was far away compared to the warm tide rush of Eren’s laughter. She wished she could bask in it a little longer, but the world kept spinning and with a roll of her eyes she muttered, “tell me later, you dunce,” and handed the phone back.

Eren and Armin had a short conversation as Jean crawled into a pair of sleep pants before Eren came over to the edge of the bed where Isabel had returned to studying. She glanced up at him, surprised to find Armin was on skype with Jean and Eren was dressed again, already wrapped in his hoodie and scarf.

“Upsie daisy, Isabel,” Eren said, yawning just a little as he held out his arms. Isabel gave him a dry look before pushing her books aside and accepting his help anyway, since her limbs did kind of feel like noodles. Eren hefted her to the floor easily, handing her one of his hoodies and Jean’s beanie without seeming to think about it much. She pulled them on, curiosity bubbling in her chest, and Eren hopped up to stand on Jean’s bed to gather her notes and laptop and textbook, shoving them carefully in her backpack.

“Shoes,” Eren prompted, sounding way too much like Levi for a moment. She made a face at his back as she wandered over to her boots and shoved them on, letting him tuck her under his arm with only minimal eye rolling.

They ended up at a diner (the one they were beginning to frequent with alarming familiarity) and had breakfast for dinner. Eren took her notes and drilled her on what she needed to know, ordering her a second helping of pancakes once he decided they were done (Isabel argued, but she didn’t try very hard to win). Eren paid (he almost always paid, which sometimes made Isabel feel like shit, but she figured she’d get him something for Christmas to make up for it) and then he took her back to her dorm, slinging his arm around her as they walked back and lingering for a moment in the lobby to wrap both his arms around her and squeeze her in a tight hug.

“You’ll be fine,” Eren promised, voice a murmur against her hair. She sniffled, wishing she could blame it on the light dusting of frost on the windows and not her stretched thin emotions and he ran his hands up and down her back, slow and comforting. “Go get some sleep and tomorrow we’ll party so hard you won’t know what galaxy we live in, okay?”

“Okay,” she muttered against shoulder, laughing faintly in the back of her throat. She tried to detangle herself from him, but he wouldn’t let her go without one last squeeze.

Levi had done the same thing before he and Farlan had climbed back in the car after Thanksgiving.

“Shit,” she hissed, lurching back against Eren’s chest as tears burned the corner of her eyes. She was too fucking stressed to miss home this much, especially when Levi was supposed to arrive Sunday to pick her up. Eren didn’t ask, just wrapping her in an even tighter hug with a little hum, holding her as she scowled and sniffled and tried not to miss her dumb brother too fucking much.

Isabel pulled back eventually (though really it was more like she took her arms back, wedged them between their bodies and then shoved him back a few steps as he laughed, warm and bouncy and ugh) and Eren left, ruffling her hair before darting back into the cold to return to Jean. As he stepped out the door it occurred to her that there was something she’d been meaning to ask, so she called after him, tugging him out of the doorway when he paused.

“Hey, what’s up with Jean and Armin?”

Eren made a face, like he wasn’t sure how to feel. “Dunno,” he admitted, shrugging a little. “They dork out about comic books I’m too lazy to read sometimes and like…” Eren trailed off, looking adorably confused by it all. “They seem to make each other happy, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, I have questions and theories too, Izzy-bell, but I’m not gonna pry, y’know?”

Isabel sort of understood, but it was still frustrating, not having answers. She made a face, crossing her arms and ignoring how she had picked that up from her annoying older brother. “Do you think if we got him drunk enough tomorrow he’d spill everything?”

Eren’s face twitched, like maybe there was a story behind that idea, before he smiled, lopsided and a little sad. “He would,” the brunette said, so soft she almost couldn’t hear him, “but don’t. Jean’ll tell us shit when he’s ready.”

A frustrated little sigh bubbled up in her throat, but she swallowed it back with a groan. “Fine,” she said, unable to help how her lips curled into a little smile when Eren’s eyes crinkled in the corners. Eren ducked forward, like he was going to kiss the top of her head or something in goodbye, but in the end he just squeezed her shoulder and left, disappearing into the cold darkness. The light that framed him in the last second gave her that itch again, to frame him in the scope of a camera, to capture the moment forever; the light from the lobby stretched across the broad line of his shoulders, jaw line just visible as he turned to follow the sidewalk back to the other dorm. She pushed it down and went upstairs, crawling into bed as soon as she was inside.

The less said about her cumulative astronomy exam from Hell, the better. Isabel finished it and then went over it again, and again, and again before she turned it in to her professor and left. She didn’t go back to her dorm, even though it was highly unlikely that Eren and Jean were up at 8:15 in the morning, and in the end ended up in front of their door on the fourth floor, twisting the doorknob to find it unlocked.

She was right; they were both passed out like useless rock lumps under their respective covers. Isabel shed her outer layers of winter clothing and dropped her bag by Eren’s desk, crawling up to the top bunk so that she could collapse on top of the blanket between Eren and the wall. She was asleep before she could be annoyed that she had left her socks on by accident.

She woke up alone, swaddled in the blankets like some kind of drooling infant, with the boys’ shouts ringing in her ears. Her heart started to pound as she tried to figure out what was making them shout, but as she struggled to sit up the worlds became a little clearer inside her head.

“You son of a bitch, Eren,” Jean yelled, somewhere below her (like the pit of Hell), “you’re supposed to communicate these things, you prick!”

“I’m sorry,” Eren drawled, sarcastic and loud (so fucking loud, oh my god). “I thought me yelling move you pansy assed horse fucker, they’re coming would have been communication enough, but oh I’ll do better next time, your majesty.”

“Oh god,” she moaned, tongue dragging against her teeth. Her mouth tasted like death (not alcohol-death, just regular nap-death) and her limbs felt heavy. “Are you idiots playing Zombies again?”

The shouting beneath her ceased for a second before Eren quietly muttered, “oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck is right,” Isabel growled, rolling to the edge of the bed, where she teetered, glowering down at the two boys sprawled across the ground. “If it’s not past 1pm I’m gonna kick your asses so hard.”

Eren and Jean were the very picture of sheepish innocence, peering up at her for so long their dumb characters died in their round of Black Ops Zombies. Jean yelped when the scratchy stereo system tolled the end round sound, turning back to scowl at their television like the sourpuss he was.

“Aw,” he said, visibly deflating. “We were on round fifteen!”

Isabel rolled her eyes, curling onto her front and burrowing her face against the pillows that smelled like Eren. “Lame,” she muttered, rubbing her nose against the pillow case, eyes burning slightly. She heard Eren chuckle, listening faintly to the sound of movement below her.

“Sorry Izzy-bell,” he called up, voice stupidly mock-quiet. “But you’ll be happy to know it’s almost noon!”

Isabel wiggled an arm out of the blanket nest Eren supposedly wrapped her in to flip him off. “Wake me when there’s food,” she said, curling back around to face the wall. The boys kept their shouting down just enough to let her fall asleep again and the next time she woke it was to the faint smell of pizza warm in her nose.

“Aha,” Eren crowed when she sat up, pushing her bangs from her face with a numb hand. “She’s awake!”

“Aha,” she mimicked back, arching in a sleepy stretch. “Go fuck yourself!”

Jean laughed like a cannon suddenly firing off, loud and startling, head jerking forward as he did so. She smiled a little at the sight of him, absently weighing the pros and cons of just jumping down from the top bunk and onto the floor. She was too lazy to take the ladder, but the last time she’d done that the assholes on the floor below had come up picking a fight and the RA had tossed her out of the building with a warning that the next time she was found in the room during a complaint would be the last.

She took the ladder, but when she dropped to sit criss-cross applesauce between the two boys, pizza box in front of her, she dropped down extra hard with only a little ball of spite in her chest. Eren nudged the pizza box toward her, still half turned toward the television. The boys were still playing Call of Duty, though it seemed for the time being they had moved on from fighting the endless hordes of undead. Pity, she had kind of wanted to join them.

“Should we even ask about your final,” Jean asked, leaning over to knock their shoulders together as she picked up a slice and brought it toward her mouth. She made a face at him, biting the tip of the slice with extra vengeance to properly convey her emotions about her last test. Both boys laughed, though Jean’s was more of a snort than laugh, and they left her in peace as she finished off the last of the pepperoni pizza. The party wasn’t going to start until 8 o’clock (or 8-ish as Eren had vaguely explained on their way to the diner the night before) so they had time to kill, which meant after she washed her hands she swiped their third game controller and bullied her way into their game.

“Shit,” Jean said later, still baffled. “How the fuck are you so good at that game?”

Isabel was a little more embarrassed than she thought she’d be, cheeks heating indignantly as she climbed out of the car. “I told you,” she said, three seconds from throwing her hands in the air and stomping her foot. “I played a lot with Farlan and Levi in high school, okay?”

Jean made this noise at her, like a constipated dinosaur, which made her groan at him in frustration. She hadn’t even been that good today, out of practice and rusty since she hadn’t played since she’d come to college, but Jean kept going on and on like she was some kind of amazing miracle worker. It made her want to get Levi online to kick his ass, since he was at least three times better than she was. She had almost texted him before they stopped too, but in the end she’d put her phone back in Eren’s pocket and left the boys to go shower and get ready for the post-finals party in her own dorm. She had thought Jean would have been over it by the time they picked her up, but she had been wrong.

So, so wrong.

“So,” she said, trying to change the topic. She was usually all for never ending praise being showered upon her, but for some reason this particular vein was making her uncomfortable. “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”

Eren made a face, like he might be considering arguing, but the front door opened as they neared it and Marco stuck his head out, smiling, dimples showing.

“Hey guys,” he said, pushing the door open so that they all slip in. It was so much warmer in the house, bright lights in the hallway and music already pounding from the living room. “Reiner was beginning to get impatient; he kept complaining that we couldn’t open the good stuff until you three got here.”

They shed their coats and jackets, handing them over to their gracious host, and Isabel shot a look at Eren that made him hold his hands up, eye crinkling in the corner as he smiled. “Alright, alright,” he said, shrugging a little before he turned toward Marco. “We’re still cool to crash here if we need to, right?”

“Of course,” Marco said. Anyone else might have seemed offended that Eren needed to ask, but Marco didn’t seem to mind. Isabel wondered if anything could ruffle his feathers. She didn’t think so, but if there was something that could, she didn’t want to see it. Shit got nasty when unruffled people lost it.

“Cool,” Eren said, nodding a little bit. “Then let’s get this party started!”

Jean groaned, rolling his eyes at his roommate, but they jostled shoulders in the hall as they both tried to make for the kitchen first. Marco shook his head like he was used to it, following along on their heels, but Isabel hesitated for a second, glancing at the closet where Marco had hung her jacket. After a second she opened it, hauling her phone out of the pocket and tucking it in her bra instead, since the dress she was wearing had no pockets. Then she darted toward the kitchen, where she could already hear Eren and Jean’s friends greeting them in loud voices.

“Isabel,” Reiner greeted, reaching out to haul her into a tight hug. His cheeks were flushed, like he was already a bit tipsy, and she laughed, squeezing him back as tight as she could. The blonde had warmed up to her after a few weeks of football games and passing each other in the dorm hall, since he lived on the same floor as Eren and Jean. She got a chest trembling laugh in response to her squeeze, the blonde lifting her up onto the counter without asking, planting her between a tall clear bottle of vodka and an entire row of rum bottles from at least three different brands. Bertholdt gave her a little wave from across the kitchen, where he leaned safely out of the warpath since he didn’t like excessive drinking.

“Alright,” Connie said, Sasha at his side (which was her natural place in life, Isabel had found, much like how she found herself falling into step with Eren most days), already bouncing excitedly. “What are we starting with, barkeep?”

“Well,” Marco said, as close to sarcastic as Isabel had ever heard him, “we seem to have quite a lot of rum…”

“That’s because rum is fantastic,” Connie said, nodding, Sasha scrunched her nose, glancing longingly at the clear bottle next to Isabel.

“But Connie,” the brunette said, shaking her head, “vodka.”

That was it. That was her entire argument.

Connie made a sage, all knowing face. “You do have a point…”

“Do we have any tequila,” Eren called. Isabel glanced over at him, only to find he was half out of the bottom cupboards, ass sticking up in the air. She laughed, covering her mouth, because Jean was staring at his roommate’s ass with a look of deep consideration. She opened her mouth to tease him about it, but before she could he brought his foot back, quick and sharp, and kicked Eren in the ass.

The entire room burst into laughter, all save Eren, who shoved himself out of the cupboard with a fire in his eyes. Jean snickered at him, eyes bright, just before Eren tackled him, both of them stumbling back toward Bertholdt. Reiner reached over, hauling the taller brunette out of the way so that the two idiots crashed into the counter and fell to the ground. They wrestled there for a second and everyone moved around them like it was natural, grinning and reaching for plastic cups and bottles, sodas and cheap beer bottles coming out of the fridge like magic.

“Here,” Marco said, holding out a bottle to her. It had a kind of orange-gold liquid in it, filled a little more than halfway full. She glanced down at it, not bothering to read the label, eyes darting back to the freckles boy curiously. “It’s for Eren, once he and Jean are done horsing around.”

“Oh,” Isabel said. It was tequila. She peered at the top, tempted and curious, but before she could do anything about it Eren was up and on his feet, arms in the air while Jean groaned on the ground.

“Victory is mine,” Eren roared, sneering down at his glaring roommate. He turned, mouth open to say something, when his eyes landed on the bottle in Isabel’s hand. Which wasn’t in Isabel’s hand a second later.

“Hey,” she said, crossing her arms, “I wanted to try that!”

Eren blinked before grinning, sheepish and only a little endearing. “Sorry Izzy,” he muttered, holding it back out toward her. She took it, twisting the top off and taking a swig. Eren snorted, the sound turning into a belly laugh when she almost coughed the liquid straight back up. She handed the bottle back to him without a word, grimacing, and he took it without any further mockery, exchanging it for a bright pink bottle he swiped out of Reiner’s hand.

“Here,” he said, ignoring the blonde’s grumbling. “Try this.”

It was sweet and fruity, but it didn’t burn her on the way down or make her cough, so she only rolled her eyes a little as she drank it. “I want a rum and coke next,” she informed him primly. He smiled at her from around the neck of the bottle before he tipped it back, taking three long swallows before he came up for air again.

In the end she hung around in the kitchen for an hour and a half, watching everyone else get progressively collectively trashed. She was given a single rum and coke and two more fruity brightly colored bottles before she left the kitchen in search of other entertainment, which wasn’t even a third of the alcohol she had consumed last time, but she didn’t mind. There was dancing in the living room, which was tempting (and where she thought Eren was, surprisingly enough), but she wanted to finish her last bottle before she waded in there. She was debating hanging on the stairs when she noticed the porch door was cracked open, letting in a trail of cold air that made her shiver. She glanced out the windows, taking in the sight of a familiar tall figure leaning against the railing, half lit by the screen of his phone.

“Jean,” she asked, poking her head out of the door. The twenty year old jumped, wobbling in surprise at the sound of her voice, twisting too fast to look at her and nearly falling over. He had drunk at least half a rum bottle himself before disappearing and she wondered if he had been out here the entire time, freezing, hunched over his phone. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jean slurred, hunching back over the railing for stability. “M’fine. Just. Texting.”

Isabel shivered in the freezing air as she stepped further out of the house, shutting the door loosely behind her. She didn’t think it would lock automatically, but she didn’t want to wind her way in the dark around the house to the front door if it was. “Texting,” she asked, drawing closer, arms winding around herself as tight as she could. “Who?”

Jean’s smile was large and lopsided, curling so slowly it was like watching flower petals uncurl. “Armin,” he said, ducking his head when the phone chirped at him quietly.

Her previous curiosity clawed at her chest and she knew, even without Eren’s confirmation, that if she asked him right now he would tell her all about Armin. She opened her mouth, twisting to lean against the railing, but she made the mistake of glancing up at him as the words curled around her tongue.

Framed by the moonlight Jean looked oddly soft. His shoulders, which he usually held so tight, straight and proud as could be, were slumped with ease. His eyes were bright and that smile that curved his lips only grew as he read the new message, laughing low and sloppy in his throat as his fingers clumsily tapped across the screen. He squinted as he typed, hauling the phone closer to his face as if to see it better, and Isabel couldn’t do it. She imagined Jean and Eren cornering her, asking about Farlan the same way she wanted to ask about the blonde, and the idea made her stomach turn hard enough that she thought she was already hungover.

“Don’t stay out here too long, okay,” she said, leaning against his shoulder. His skin was faintly warm, but she wondered for how much longer. “Armin wouldn’t want you to freeze, y’know.”

Jean glanced at her, eyes amber warm, blinking slow and careful before he lurched toward her, curling her in a tight hug. “You’re such a pain,” he muttered, making her chest squeeze. “You an’ Eren both, you’re… You’re good friends, you know?”

Isabel blinked, eyes suddenly burning with tears. She needed another drink, she thought, despite the fact there was a mostly full bottle clutched in one white knuckled grip. She needed something rougher, that would make her warm inside the hole in her chest. Maybe she’d give tequila another try, if Eren had left any.

Before she could come up with something to say Jean had released her, turning back to his phone. She thought about stuttering something out, because Jean was her friend (and a wonderful friend at that), but she couldn’t. She twisted to leave, but before she did she took a step back, pulling her phone out of her bra and swiping on the camera app. That itch, to capture the moment, was back under her skin, just like it had been more and more frequently and tonight she didn’t feel like saying no. Jean didn’t response to the click of the camera capturing the way the house lights bathed him in gold while the moonlight turned him silver and lonely, but it was better that way. She turned, going back inside the house, phone tucked back inside her bra. She didn’t close the door all the way, leaving it cracked for Jean as she downed her pink bottled drink with renewed determination.

Chapter Text

Eren wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that he woke up already propped up against the toilet or offended. He went with relieved after he threw up, but it was still fucking disgusting. He tried to take comfort in the fact that he’d woken up in weirder places (the fucking bushes in the park after Jean’s last birthday and under Marco’s neighbor’s porch the Halloween before last) but in the end it was more depressing than anything. Plus thinking that far back hurt his head.

"We’ve got to find a different way to celebrate shit," Eren slurred, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He wished he could pick up his head from the toilet seat but trying to get it up farther than an inch hurt too much. "Like. Fucking. Mini golf or somethin’."

Weak laughter from inside the tub made Eren jerk upright and yelp, both which were actions that hurt. He glanced over, blinking slowly, only to find Jean curled up, still half asleep.

"You hate mini golf," Jean pointed out, smiling at him slightly. Eren almost smiled back, but then he noticed the pool of drool on Jean’s shoulder and felt a little sick again.

"I hate tequila," Eren whined, curling down so that he could cradle his head between his knees. Jean tried to laugh again but it quickly cut into a pained sort of noise as Jean woke up enough to register pain. Eren wanted to laugh at him, but even the thought hurt.

"Oh good," someone whispered quietly from the doorway. "You two are awake."

Eren glanced up, trying to peek through the smallest gap in his eyelids as humanly possible. He gave up after a minute, opening his eyes as far as he could, because at first the person was just a dark and pale looming blur. After a second Eren realized it was Marco, smiling softly from the edge of the room.

"Kill me," Eren begged, hoping for mercy. Marco shook his head slightly, smile tipping sideways, and Eren had a stray thought that Marco would make a good Angel of Death. He had the smile for it, soft and sad-kinda sweet. Plus he was shit at mercy.

"I have pain meds and water," the freckled asshole offered instead. Eren groaned but held out his hand anyway, throwing back the pills before he was even handed the water bottle. Marco moved past Eren as gently as he could, to help Jean, but Eren stumbled to his feet and out of the room after he downed the water bottle as well.

"Nice to see you stayed inside the house this time," Reiner rasped as he past the kitchen. Eren could smell bacon frying, as well as eggs and sausage. He hoped there were biscuits too; he fucking loved biscuits.

"Nice to see you kept your pants," Eren fired back. His original destination had been the couch, but he changed course and lumbered to sit on one of the nearby counters instead. His shoulders were wedged uncomfortably against the cupboards but he had had enough of sitting on the floor for now.

Reiner flipped him off, jostling his knee as he moved past him to the fridge, and Eren watched him cook for a minute in silence. His head still hurt and his stomach still felt raw and abused, but it was something he could deal with.

"Where’s Bert," he asked after a minute. "Doesn’t he usually cook this shit?"

"He went to go pick up the dog and take him or a walk," the blonde said, shrugging. "Should be back soon though."

Eren hummed, closing his eyes. “Always forget you’ve got a dog,” he muttered, smiling faintly. He peeked open one eye to find Reiner was shooting him a look, a little offended. “Hey, in my defense, the dog is new! You only got him like, what, three weeks ago?”

“I think it was more like five, but yeah,” Reiner said, nodding a little as he bent further over the stove. Eren watched as the corner of the blonde’s mouth curled, eyes going a little distant. Eren knew he was probably distracted by some disgustingly warm fuzzy memories of his domestic life with Bertholdt and their tiny Pomeranian pup. He wished he could pretend to gag, but honestly, someone to love and a dog to steal the good spot on the bed? It kind of sounded like a dream come true.

“Still can’t believe you let Bert name that pint sized terror Colossal,” Eren muttered, just to have something to say so that he wouldn’t have to watch Reiner go mushy first thing in the morning. It had the added effect of Reiner turning pink and sputtering, shoulders hunching to hide the way his neck flushed in embarrassment.

“Shut the fuck up,” the blonde muttered. “That’s big talk from the guy letting a freshman chick drag him all over campus like her favorite fucking handbag.”

Eren went stiff, tension suddenly coiled in his shoulders. He blinked at the side of Reiner’s face, watching as the blonde went suddenly still and bit his bottom lip. This time when Reiner flushed it wasn’t so funny.

“Sorry,” Reiner said, before Eren could make his mouth work through the hangover and fury coiling in his gut. “Didn’t mean it like that. I just- I don’t do hangovers well, you know that, man.”

Eren had known Bertholdt and Reiner since they were in high school and had seen them both through a flurry of worst moments, but that wasn’t a fucking excuse. “Next time you talk shit about Isabel I’ll make the beating you gave those assholes in high school look like a fucking walk in the park.“

He meant to say more, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl, but the sound of the front door opening cut him off, a dog’s tinny quiet bark sounding down the hall. Reiner shot Eren a look as Bertholdt tried to hush the dog down the hall.

“Fair enough,” the blonde said, nodding solemnly in his direction. “If those asswipes deserved it for talking shit about Bert, then I guess I’d deserve it for talking about your girl too.”

The fury edged into frustration and Eren gritted his teeth, fists curling over the edge of the counter. “We’ve been over this,” he growled, but Reiner wasn’t paying attention any more. His dog bounded into the room, running straight for Reiner until he leapt at the blonde’s shins, bouncing off to land on his toes, yipping happily as he did so. Bertholdt was on Colossal’s tail, looking a little frazzled as he tried to hush their pet, and Eren hopped off the counter with an exhausted sigh.

“Eren,” Bertholdt greeted, sending him a small smile as he scooped up the dog. The pup licked his face, nuzzling against the tall brunette’s throat as it did so. “I’m glad to see you’re still here. We put Isabel in the spare bedroom upstairs, with Sasha. Though I think Sasha rolled off the bed to sleep on the floor with Connie…”

Eren laughed a little, despite the fact that it still hurt his throbbing head. “That does sound like Sasha,” he muttered, twisting to leave. He passed by Bertholdt, reaching out to ruffle the fur on the dog’s side as he did so. The damn thing nipped at him, which stung enough that he swore sourly all the way upstairs. The spare bedroom was the one on the left and he nudged the door open, suddenly wishing he’d thought to bring an offering of water and pain meds, because last he remembered-

Actually Eren had a piss poor memory of the night before, but he imagined that Isabel had drunk a lot. She had drunk a lot at Halloween and seemed to like it despite her terrible hangover the next morning, so he didn’t imagine she had skipped the getting drunk aspect of the night. Especially after her complete bitch of a test yesterday morning.

Guilt bubbled in his chest, warm and uncomfortable, at the thought that he couldn’t remember seeing Isabel last night. When he’d mentioned not drinking a lot to her and Jean on the way she’d scowled at him, fiercer than anything he’d seen before, and snapped that she was a big girl who didn’t need him to designated driver her life. Which she was, but she was so small. Small and bright and Eren hadn’t felt this protective over someone so small since he’d met Armin on the playground in elementary school. But he had listened to her and drunk himself stupid and now here he was, standing in the doorway, shadow falling across the twined together bodies of Connie and Sasha on the floor as he stared at the lump of messy blankets on the bed.

“Izzy-bell,” he whispered, tiptoeing around the bodies of the sleeping pair to reach the edge of the bed. “Hey, babe, you alive in there?”

“No,” Isabel said, making him jolt. She pulled back the blanket in one rush, like a band aid getting ripped off too quick, and he leaned back to give her room to sit up. Her hair was a fucking rat’s nest and her makeup was smudged all the way to her temples, but she was still easily pretty as a peach. He smiled at her, stooping down to give her something to latch onto as she swung her legs over the edge and tried to stand. He was so tall compared to her that he had hunch over so that she could get her arm around his neck and from there he just swung her up princess style, cradling her to his chest.

“Huh,” she said, blinking at him before tucking her face in the corner where his shoulder met his neck. “Works for me.”

Eren snorted as he stepped over Connie and Sasha, nudging the door shut behind him before he took the stairs down. He tried to be gentle as he stepped down, but Isabel’s breathing was even and she wasn’t squirming like she was gonna hurl on him, so he wasn’t too worried. He took her straight to the kitchen table, which Bertholdt was covering with food while Reiner stood scowling over the stove, grumbling at the pan of scrambled eggs. Jean was propped up at the kitchen table, tipped toward Marco, but he was bent over his phone, nose nearly against the too bright screen with the dopey expression on his face that Eren was getting more and more used to seeing.

“You’re gross,” Eren told Jean, kicking at his knee. “Shove over; you’re hogging the damn bench.”

“I’m gross,” Jean muttered back, scooting over enough that Eren could slide Isabel into the seat and still sit next to her. “You’re the one who was licking the bottom of the fucking toilet this morning.”

“Ew,” Isabel mumbled, leaning away from Eren and against Jean’s shoulder. Eren was stupidly offended at this until she slumped entirely against Jean, kicking her legs into his lap. He curled his hand around her ankles with his left hand to keep her steady. Marco slid the girl a cup of water and a bottle of headache medicine before going upstairs to see if Connie and Sasha were ready to be real human beings again. Eren knew they wouldn’t be ready to be alive until past noon, but Marco always checked.

They ate in peace, the dog whining for scraps and bumping into their shins when no one paid it any attention. Reiner gave Isabel choice pick of the bacon, his apology for an offense she knew nothing of, and Eren settled in, appeased in a way he couldn’t put into words. They left before Connie and Sasha woke up, though Reiner and Bertholdt promised to pass on their goodbyes to the pair whenever they did drag themselves back to the world of the living. Jean drove them back to the dorms and they dropped Isabel off, the redhead curling around Jean for an extra five minutes since he was going to shower, pack up, and go straight home.

“I’m gonna miss you, Jean-bon,” she muttered, pulling back. Eren smiled a little when she cupped Jean’s face and pressed a quiet kiss to the crest of his cheek, biting his tongue on a laugh when Jean couldn’t sound as offended as he should have.

“Get out of my fucking car already,” he muttered, shoulders hunched up to his ears. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, you big baby.”

Isabel responded by punching Jean’s arm, tears sparkling in her eyes, before huffing her way out of the car and flouncing up to the dorm building. Eren bumped his shoulder against Jean’s when they lingered outside the building for a few more minutes, the urge to laugh drifting away as Eren took in the drop of his roommate’s shoulders.

“Come on, loser,” Eren coached, understanding the feeling. Thanksgiving wasn’t so far back that he didn’t remember watching that bus roll away with their new friend. Jean grumbled at him before moving the car to the other building, where he parked it near the door since there were a shitton of open slots thanks to the lack of students still on campus. Eren followed him upstairs, flopping on Jean’s bed since he was too tired to climb up into his bed. He napped while Jean showered and packed, though his roommate woke him up before he left, shaking his knee, bent over him, face shadowed since their blinds were drawn.

“Hey,” Jean said, “I’m gonna head out. You sure you gonna be okay without me?”

Eren groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Bruh,” he groaned, eyelids nasty and crusty as fuck. “I’m gonna be fine. Bus leaves tomorrow at 4 and I’ll get Reiner or someone to drop me off.”

Jean pursed his lips, looking a lot like his mother for a second. Eren felt a pang in his chest, wondering if he ever made faces that echoed his late mother. Probably not; he looked more like his dad than his mom, or so he was told. Eren clumsily reached up to pat at Jean’s face, grinning when the other boy sputtered and jerked back, almost knocking his head against the bars of the bunk bed above him.

“Do you want a kiss before you go too,” Eren asked, batting his eyelashes coyly. He didn’t really want to deal with emotions at the moment, so jokes were the best way to deflect. Jean looked like he appreciated the effort, even if his face contorted in horror.

“Please don’t touch me with your lips,” he begged, leaning back. “Not even if I’m dying and need CPR and you’re the only one that knows it. Let me die with my dignity, please.”

Eren laughed and sat up, swinging his legs over the side and dragging his hands through his hair. “So you can haunt me for the rest of my life, complaining about how you died too young? Fuck that, I’ll take a lifetime of corporeal bitching over incorporeal bitching.”

Jean laughed, mouth crooking up at the corner. “If you can use a big boy work like incorporeal I guess you’ll be fine.” Jean patted his head, ruffling up his hair, fingers brushing Eren’s before turning and marching toward the dorm door.

“I’ll tell Armin you said hi when I see him,” Eren shouted, just before the door closed. He had timed it so that Jean would be too embarrassed to barge back in and shout at him and too distracted with being embarrassed to worry about him for much longer. Jean’s face, the sliver of it Eren could see before the door closed, went red, eyes widening as he sputtered even more violently than before.

But when Jean left the room was empty and strangely too big. Eren hauled himself up from the bed and dragged his heels into the shower, cranking it as hot as it would go. He showered, taking a little longer than usual trying to wash away the last of his hangover. By the time he dragged himself back into the dorm room, dried and dressed, it was mid-afternoon and he finally felt human again.

He didn’t even think about it, but he called Isabel with the towel still draped over his head. She picked up on the third ring, humming into the phone, music playing not-so-quietly in the background.

“Dude,” Isabel said, humming along to something pop-punk slightly off key. “Levi and Farlan aren’t supposed to pick me up until tomorrow morning and I’m bored. Fix this?”

Eren hadn’t been able to fix a lot in his life, not for himself and not for other people. More often than not other people were fixing up his messes. But Isabel didn’t pause, didn’t hold back, didn’t even consider it; she just said fix it, like there wasn’t even a chance he could fuck it up.

“Sure thing,” he said, rubbing the towel across his head before letting it drop. “Want to go to the mall? We can get dinner and do Christmas shopping and shit, if that’s cool with you?”

“Oh,” Isabel said and he could see the wriggle of her nose and her dimple on the left side of her face in his head. “Christmas shopping! I totally forgot, oh my god? We should totally do that, good thinking, Eren!”

Eren felt his chest warm. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder so that he could dig through his clothes and find his hoodie and scarf, humming along with the song in the background of the call as he dug.

“No problem,” he said, only preening a little. “Pick you up in five, okay?”

“Deal,” she chirped, hanging up first. Eren caught the phone as it slid from between his shoulder and ear, tucking it in his back pocket before he dug in earnest. It wasn’t snowing yet, but it was cold enough that he pulled on his gloves as well, hood up over his wet hair as he descended the stairs.

Isabel was bundled in at least four layers, three of which Eren didn’t think were hers, but he was used to it. He wrapped his arm around her and lead the way off campus and downtown, toward the mall. Isabel complained about the cold the entire time, loudly and viciously, and Eren couldn’t help but laugh at the disgust in her voice.

“You’re such a little southern girl,” he teased, dragging her into one of the Starbucks they passed. He wasn’t really in the mood for coffee, but Isabel perked up at the sight and that was worth it. He bought himself a chai tea latte and Isabel ordered one of the weird holiday special drinks that she curled around with utter delight once the barista handed it over. Then it was back in the cold, Eren’s arm around her hips this time to make sure they didn’t get separated, since the further downtown they got the busier the cold sidewalks were.

The mall was busy, especially since it was a Saturday afternoon, but Eren hadn’t expected anything different. He found out that Isabel hadn’t been to the mall at all since coming to school in the city and he dragged her from end to end with glee, past the two different toy stores, the bath and beauty store, the weird hat store, and ending finally in front of the skate store on the far end of the mall.

“Okay,” he said once they had briefly seen everything. “Verbal Christmas check off list for planning purposes, go!”

“Uh,” Isabel said, blinking. “Levi, Farlan, Hanji, Erwin, Mike, Petra, Auruo, Eld, Gunther, Jean, and you.”

Eren couldn’t help but blink back at her. “Damn girl,” he said, “that’s a fucking crowd.”

Isabel huffed, hands flying to her hips. “Well, let’s hear your list!”

“Mikasa, Armin, Jean, you, Annie, and Dad,” Eren listed. “That’s it.”

Eren could see the sadness overtake Isabel, the way her lower lip stuck out slightly as she stared up at him. He knew the people he cared about in the world was only a small group, but he didn’t need the pity. It ruffled his feathers wrong and he huffed, hands shoved in his pockets as he twisted to survey the mall. He had a vague idea of what he wanted to get everyone, most of which wasn’t in this mall. He’d only suggested it as something to do by chance, not as like a Real Serious Suggestion. He was only here because-

“Hey,” Isabel said, bumping her way until she was wedged beneath his arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you, okay? I’m sorry.”

Eren melted against the warm weight of her body against his side, pulling his hand out of his pocket to curl his arm around her shoulders. He took her beanie off her head and shoved it in his hoodie’s pocket for safe keeping, brushing her bangs out of her eyes as he did so. “We’re cool,” he told her, meaning it. “Pick a store, though, babe; I’m following you.”

Isabel shot him a look, a little unsure, before walking forward, eyes drifting from store to store. He mostly watched her peer into storefronts, tugging her around the people wandering around doing the same thing. They hadn’t gone in any specific store when the thought occurred to him and he rolled the question around on his tongue, remembering how much he had hated it (and still did). But in the end curiosity won out and he opened his big fat mouth.

“So,” he said, “you thought about next semester’s classes yet? Or your major?”

Isabel shot him a look that he was all too familiar with. Eren winced, understanding perfectly the feeling behind that look, shrugging a little and jostling her as he did so. But as he watched her face changed, melting into a shy kind of indecision he hadn’t seen on her face before. She chewed on her bottom lip, peeking up at him through eyelashes that still had some kind of gummy makeup clinging to them.

“I was thinking I might try taking a photography class,” she told him, in the way that sounded a lot like she hadn’t said that out loud before. “And maybe majoring in… art.”

Eren blinked. He stopped walking, pulling Isabel to a stop at his side. He twisted so that Isabel was facing him, since this was a serious topic. Or at least Isabel looked seriously nervous about the whole thing and therefore Eren was going to treat this as a serious matter.

“Isabel,” he said, fingers squeezing her shoulder slightly in reassurance, “I think that’s a great idea.”

Chapter Text

Isabel glanced down the aisle at Eren, the cheery Christmas music playing over the toy store’s speakers at odds with the tension in her gut. She bit her lip, poking at the doll set in front of her in an attempt to distract herself, but her eyes didn’t leave the span of the older boy’s shoulders. She hated the uneasy bubble of guilt in her gut, but at the same time there was a part of her practically chanting he started it, he started it! that wouldn’t leave her alone. She gritted her teeth as she shifted, hand dropping down to hang limply at her side as her lips pulled into a frown.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, scowling at the line of Eren’s back. He was only a few feet away, almost within arm’s reach, and she knew he heard her, but still she didn’t receive any reaction. She waited a few seconds, but he didn’t move. “Eren,” she groaned, “I said-“

“I heard you,” Eren muttered back, hunched over. He sounded tense. “I was thinking, sorry. We’re cool though, don’t worry about it.”

Isabel made a low, rough noise of disbelief, twisting to face him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her arms, first crossing them as the urge to stomp her foot rose before gesturing in his direction, her irritation mounting. “Eren,” she hissed.

Eren sighed. His shoulders twitched the motion, rising and falling just a little as his hands swung down to curl into fists beside him. He twisted to look at her, smiling in a way that didn’t reach the tired look in his eyes.

“Isabel,” Eren mimicked back, because he was an asshole. “It’s fine. I started it.”

Despite the part of her that agreed with him, Isabel huffed. “No, you didn’t,” she insisted. “All you did was ask about my major!”

A little warmth flooded back into Eren’s eyes and his smile went from rigid to soft and sincere. “Yeah, you’ll enjoy art,” he muttered, which was a fucking distraction if Isabel had ever heard one. “You’re always going on about which filter to use and the lighting, so photography should be right up your alley.”

Distraction or not, the statement still flooded Isabel with warmth, just as it had before. She squirmed, annoyed at herself for the way she wanted to pester him for reassurance about it. Art was a big thing, an unsure thing in many ways, and something she’d only ever dabbled in very, very lightly. And she had only suggested taking one photography class! But Eren talked so seriously, all slow and sure, about her majoring in it like he was absolutely certain she would succeed and that confidence made her want to cry, just a little. She went limp, arms falling back to her sides before she crossed them low over her stomach, fingers curling into the material of her hoodie carefully. It was a piss poor replacement for the hug she wanted, but the only thing she had right then.

“I really didn’t mean to upset you,” she muttered, wandering closer step by step until she was standing at his side, facing the same way. He was bent over a pile of stuffed animals in various shapes, sizes, and designs, most of which were as pink and cutesy as could be. She tried to shake off the memory of Eren’s face, twisted with disgust and loathing, all of it aimed inward at himself, but she couldn’t. She sighed.

“Levi says I push too much,” she admitted quietly.

Eren's answering laugh was small, soft, and warm, comforting in the way Starbucks had been during their walk to the mall.

“Mikasa says I’m a hotheaded idiot who picks too many fights and needs to figure out what I’m going to do with my life,” he said, easy like it didn’t hurt. Isabel knew it had to hurt, the same way her admittance about her brother’s words did. “Everyone’s got their faults, Izzy-bell. I don’t mind.”

Eren went back to digging in the pile of toys without another word, but Isabel took the moment to study him. After he’d first said that she would be good at photography, she’d turned the question back on him, realizing as she asked about his classes for the next semester that she had no idea what Eren was even majoring in.

Eren’s response to her bewildered question of, “what the fuck even is you major” had been to flinch, grimacing as he answered.

“Undecided,” he had said, in a voice that was better suited to reading obituaries than reciting college majors. (Though after finals week talking about college work felt like the kind of shit that went hand in hand with misery and death, but that was mostly just Isabel being dramatic.) “I have until fall semester to pick.”

So what if Eren didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, Isabel thought, only a little bit hysterical. Eren had helped her so much this past semester, testing her on her study material, making sure she ate, letting her borrow his hoodies and bully him and Jean into cleaning their room up so that she could hang out there without having to wonder if she was sitting next to three week old laundry…

Eren had helped fill the hole inside her that gaped, ragged at the edges, when she had left home and she hadn’t even known he was fucked up about what major he wanted to pick. She was a really, really terrible friend.

“Hey,” Eren said suddenly, nudging her carefully in her side. She glanced up at him, biting her lip as she did so, and he smiled. It was closer to his normal smiles, warm and wide, but there was still an echo of his earlier distress in his eyes, making her stomach clench.

“You okay,” he asked, starting to look a little guilty himself. “I didn’t mean to upset you, man, I just-“

“I don’t know what I want to do with my life either,” she said, quick, like she was ripping off a band aid. “I want to try photography, but I’m not sure it’s what I want to do with my life, you know?”

You’re not alone, Isabel wanted to say as Eren blinked at her for a moment, obviously startled. You’re not alone, and I’m a shitty friend, and I’m sorry. Please. I’m sorry.

“Yeah,” Eren said softly after a few decade-lasting seconds. The word was mostly a sigh. “I know.”

Silence hung. Isabel stared at Eren and Eren started back at Isabel. Isabel wondered if they were both suddenly aware of how achy and tired they were, especially Eren; he had drunk much more than she had and partied harder too. She was looking forward to seeing her brother tomorrow and going home more than ever, because at least then she could sleep in the car, familiar and kept company by the faint sounds of Farlan and Levi talking. Her own silent, empty dorm room was unnerving after a lifetime of Levi’s quiet rummaging close by.

“So,” Isabel said, shifting awkwardly. Eren mimicked her, muttering so in a long drawn out way hat made her scowl at the teasing. “We’re good, right?”

“Yeah,” Eren said, seemingly suddenly amused. “We’re good.”

“Thank god,” she groaned, arms dropping down to her sides. “Then why the fuck are you still gargoyled over these fucking stuffed animals?”

Eren suddenly beamed at her, wolfish and excited, hands flying up to curl around her shoulders as he bent down to meet her eye to eye.

“We’re going to get Jean matching horse stuffed animals for Christmas,” he told her. Isabel blinked at him, mouth falling open a little bit in surprise. She felt the earlier misery start to slip away, the guilt and stress and the very last of her (admittedly small) hangover slide off like melting ice. Warmth flooded through her, seeping from Eren’s large hands and inching down her spine, and she found herself grinning back at him so hard it hurt.

“You’re a genius,” she told him sincerely. Eren straightened, positively preening at the compliment.

“I know,” he said without a trace of shame. “I really am.”

Isabel hit him softly in the arm before digging through the pile of toys with enthusiasm. Jean was going to flip his shit when he opened their presents, she thought with glee. She couldn’t wait to hear the crack in his voice and see his face crumple with annoyance when he opened the glittery, pink, cutesy, stuffed animals that Isabel would have killed to own when she was eight.

They went in a handful of other stores while wandering back the way they’d come through the mall, but by the time they escaped out the other end and hopped on the public bus back to campus they’d only bought the pair of horse plushes for Jean, a plastic light up tiara (also for Jean), and a delicate porcelain teacup with flowering gold inlay (for Levi) in the three hours they spent there. The bus ride back was peaceful but crowded and Eren kept her steady with a hand around her waist and the other wrapped around the bar she couldn’t reach overhead. They cooked ramen in Eren’s dorm’s kitchen, Isabel sitting on the counter while Eren puttered around in mismatched socks and sung off-key to the radio someone had left on the opposite counter, by the toaster.

Eren’s (ridiculous lax and/or shitty, Isabel hadn’t decided on which yet) RA seemed to have already left the dorms, so Isabel decided to crash on Jean’s bed for the night. She half helped Eren pack, half pestered him while he tried to gather all the clothes he would need while he was at home. Her own stuff was already tucked away in her suitcase to take back with her once Levi and Farlan arrived, which she figured she could grab out of her dorm once they arrived.

“You sure it’ll be fine,” Eren said skeptically, eying her from across the room. “I don’t wanna bother your brother and his housemate, Izzy-bell.”

Isabel sighed, rolling her eyes as she maneuvered through the game menu for the zombie game mode. Jean had texted them, letting him know that he was home safe, and hardly an hour later he had started to pester them about getting online to play with him. His excuse was there was only so much of his mother’s coddling he could take without needing to shoot something, but Isabel suspecting he missed them. She missed him too, if she was going to be honest.

“You won’t be bothering us,” Isabel promised. Reiner had poked his head in, asking if Eren needed a ride to the bus station tomorrow (since he and Bertholdt were apparently trying to get out of town as soon as possible) and Isabel had suggested a counter plan; that Levi could swing by the bus station with Eren after he picked up Isabel. It wasn’t like it’d be too far out of their way, so she was sure Levi wouldn’t mind.

Eren shot her a look that showed he wasn’t too sure about that when suddenly his computer rang with the ridiculously annoying Skype call ringtone. He directed his attention there, where Jean was calling (since they had broken their headsets last year, apparently, and never replaced them), but Eren spent half a minute swearing at the shitty lagging program that wouldn’t let him answer the damn call before Jean’s annoyed voice broke through.

“Oi,” he said, echoing slightly with the volume on the laptop. “Jaeger, what the fuck, you playing with your hair or some shit?”

“Nah, Skype’s a bitch,” Isabel called, wriggling around on the floor as she set up the game. Eren hauled the laptop off the desk and onto the chair, pointing it so that they could see Jean and the camera could see them. Isabel waved and Jean grinned lopsidedly, waving back. Eren settled down next to her, grabbing up his controller and pushing his bangs out of his eyes so that he could see.

“You ready for this shit,” Isabel asked, hitting the A button to show she was ready. The boys did the same, Eren muttering under his breath about which window they’d each cover while Jean crowed that he was going to get more kills than either of them. They played like that for an hour or two before Armin joined the Skype call and booted up his roommate’s gaming system to join in, though they had to switch to Black Ops 2, since that was all Armin’s roommate had. Isabel wasn’t as familiar with Black Ops 2 as she was with the original, so the first few rounds were a learning curve that she despised.

Eventually Armin made them call it quits, claiming he had to drive home in the morning and didn’t want to fall asleep at the wheel. He sweet talked Jean into getting offline (Eren and Isabel’s words; Jean claimed Armin had a “very compelling argument, you dickholes, so shut the fuck up already, goddamn” even though Armin’s argument considered entirely of “c’mon Jean” like the little cheat Isabel was learning he was) but instead of going to sleep immediately Eren and Isabel popped in Gears of War and played through a few checkpoints until both of their eyes burned. After they have exhausted themselves with that Eren clamored up into his bed while Isabel curled up on Jean’s, pulling the spare blanket Jean had left up over her shoulders as she snuggled into his pillows.

“Hey, Isabel,” Eren said after a few moments, when Isabel had started to drift toward sleep, in the quiet now pre-dawn darkness of the apartment. Isabel hummed quietly up at him, eyes still closed.

“Do you think your brother’ll like me?”

She peeked one eye open, even though she couldn’t see him, and smiled at the far wall. She couldn’t be sure, since Levi sometimes got weird about people she knew that he couldn’t keep a close eye on (you get almost accidentally expended in middle school once and you were never trusted again, man), but Eren was so bright, with his warm laugh and his fire-light eyes, and he had taken care of her. She couldn’t imagine her brother (or Farlan, for that matter) would hate him.

“Yeah, Eren,” she muttered back quietly. “I think he’ll like you just fine.”

Chapter Text

Eren woke up to Isabel’s hand pulling at his leg and her voice ringing in his ears. He groaned, weakly trying to pull his leg out of her grip, but she just dug her nails in and shouted even louder.

“Eren,” she screamed, so fucking loud he could have shed actual tears. “We overslept!”

“Good,” he muttered, stuffing his head under his pillow only to accidentally knock it off the bed and expose his face fully to the sunlight creeping through their half-bent blinds. They really needed drapes or something, because that was getting out of hand.

“Not. Good.” Isabel punctuated each word with a tug so strong he almost fell off the bed and on top of her. He sat up, just to get her to stop, and blinked blearily at her frantic form. She was wide eyed and her hair was all messy, tied in a bun almost at the very top of her head like she was Cindy Lou.

It was cute.

“Hey,” Eren said, feeling his drool slick lips tug into a grin. “You look like shit.”

He rubbed the back of his wrist over his lips as she glared at him, leaning forward with the same hand afterward until he was hovering closer to her face. He watched as a grin tugged at her lips, her eyes going soft for second as she hummed, leaning up and forward so he could sling his other arm around her shoulders and hug her. She wrapped her arm around his middle, squeezing him once, and he melted into the touch. He’d always been tactile and it was nice to have someone around that was as adamant about touch as he was. But then she pulled him forward, using his weakness for warmth against him, hauling him off the bed in one smooth move that reminded him suddenly that her brother had taught her to fight.

He wound up on the floor, on his side, everything aching in a way that meant he wasn’t warm with that wonderful leftover sleepy feeling that he sometimes got to linger in for hours. He groaned, scowling up at the Cindy Lou devil incarnate that he called a friend when she smiled down at him in a way that hinted at eye crinkles and dimples.

“Up, up, up,” she chanted at him, bouncing off from her perch on the edge of Jean’s bed and landing on the floor with a solid thump that would have had the idiots below them coming up for a fight if there had been anyone left in the building who cared. “We overslept, which means Levi and Farlan are going to be here within the hour, and you’re still only half packed and unshowered! Get up, asshole!”

Eren did as he was bid, but he draped himself over Isabel’s (much) smaller frame instead of trying to figure out how to balance his own body weight so quickly after waking up. “Shut up for a second, you pest,” he muttered, leaning his forehead down against the bundle of her hair bun. “I can finish packing in less than ten minutes and shower in five. Shit, girl, calm down.”

Isabel shifted underneath his weight, huffing and impatient, like he imagined tiny ponies to be. He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her to him, laughing harder when she dug her elbow in his side and grumbled his name in an exasperated tone of voice that reminded him so strongly of Mikasa that his chest clenched. He pulled away after a minute, reaching up to tuck her bangs behind her ear as he pulled back. She made a face at him that clearly showed she thought he was a sappy dumbass, pushing at his chest before turning to shuffle through the pile of hoodies, scarves, and hats they had left by the door when they had come in the day before.

“If you’re not ready by the time I come back I’m going to kick your ass,” she shouted over her shoulder. He watched her struggle her way into one of Jean’s high school hoodies and shove a hat down over her hair (the thing bulged ridiculously at the top, thanks to her bun, and he bit his lip on a laugh as she glared) with a feeling like contentment clogging his throat.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” he answered dutifully. She threw a shoe at him and it hit his knee before storming from the room entirely. He was still laughing (and rubbing his now sore knee) when he climbed in the shower a few minutes later.

Like he’d told Isabel, he was showered, dressed, and packed by the time she came back. He was fiddling around on his laptop when she shoved her way into the room, her suitcase dragging behind at her heels. He laughed at the impatient glare she sent toward the battered old laptop and closed it without turning it off, figuring it wouldn’t matter for a few hours. He shoved it in his backpack, hoisted the thing over his shoulder, and grabbed at the duffle bag he’d packed to follow her outside. There they went to the curb, where she planted her suitcase at her side and crossed her arms, obviously waiting. Eren dropped down to sit on the edge of the curb, pulling out his phone as he settled in to wait as well. Armin had texted him when he left his university for home and Mikasa had left him a voicemail, which he listened to as Isabel fidgeted next to him.

“Hey,” Mikasa said on his voicemail, her voice soft and familiar in a way that had him ducking his head and feeling faintly guilty. “We’re on our way home. Annie’s coming with me and then later she’s going to take the bus out to where her dad’s living now, right?”

Distantly Annie muttered something that sounded like an agreement. Eren smiled at the sound, grinning at the prospect of a few days with Annie around. He liked Annie, even if he did get his ass kicked by her all the way through middle school and most of high school when they fucked around and sparred.

“Yeah, she’s coming. We’ll be home before you, so text me or call me whenever you reach the city limits on your bus, okay? Love you, Eren.”

There was a pause, a murmur in the background, and then Mikasa’s laugh was bright and loud in his ear, familiar in a gut jerking way that made him glad he was on his way home. “Annie says she loves you too, meat –head,” Mikasa added. Then she hung up and the message ended, the automated voice asking if Eren would like to save it, delete it, or play it again. He hung up without deleting it, knowing he was going to listen to it on the bus later. He didn’t realize Isabel was watching him until he glanced up, finding her tapping her foot beside him and staring, eyes wide and hands twitching.

“Uh,” he jolted, leaning away slightly. That wasn’t a good, stable look, especially for a college student. “You okay?”

“They’re late,” Isabel snapped, her agitation so strong he leaned back, hands up in front of him. He wondered faintly if her brother looked like this when he was angry, like fire, all red hair and pale skin in the weak winter sunshine. “They’re never late but they’re late and Farlan isn’t answering his phone and- and- and-“

Eren swallowed as sympathy flooded through him, making his breath leave him in a sigh. “Hey,” he said, reaching up to snag her arm. He tugged her down to sit next to him as gently as he could and he caught her weight against his side as she dropped down, arm hooked around her waist to pull her close. “It’s gonna be okay, okay? You’re not alone, Izzy-bell, don’t worry.”

She twitched and Eren knew the words on the tip of her tongue, because they had been his words, after he lost his mom. He knew the feeling of sitting on the curb and wondering if anyone was even coming for him anymore. If the worst had happened (if her brother and his housemate were hurt, their car wrecked, or they were stranded, or something even worse) she wasn’t going to face it alone. He was going to be here with her every step of the way.

“You’re not alone,” he repeated, hauling her close so that she could press her face against his shoulder. The fight went out of her a little, though she pulled her phone out of her pocket with a restless shudder. He sat there with her for thirty minutes while she tried calling both her brother’s phone and the other guy’s, Farlan’s, phone, but neither of them picked up. They went to voicemail after ringing and ringing each time and the messages Isabel left got more and more drastic as time dragged on, until she had gone past the point of frantic worry and onto flat out begging.

“Please,” Isabel whispered, cradling the phone against her ear while Eren cradled her in his lap. It was too cold out for her to sit on the sidewalk without shivering and she refused to go inside, in case she missed them somehow. He had tugged her into his lap within five minutes of hauling her down, wrapping his arms around her and pulling the sides of his jacket around her to help keep her warm. He had his chin propped on the top of her head and when her voice cracked he winced at the sky, his own gut turning with worry.

“Please pick up the phone,” she said. “Levi, I- Please.”

It took him a minute to realize she had hung up the phone, but the way she curled against her own knees, making him curl over her was kind of a big clue. He didn’t say anything as he held her as tight as he could, a distant sort of anger welling up in his chest. If it turned out her brother and his dumb fucking housemate were okay and they had their fucking phones on silent or something, he was going to hurt them. He didn’t care who they were; Isabel didn’t deserve to worry like this.

Isabel straightened after a while, when Eren’s back and ass were really beginning to hurt, and Eren straightened with her, loosening his grip to give her a little room if she wanted it. Almost immediately she hauled his arms closer again, twisting to press her face against his shoulder as she made a small, soft whimpering noise that was, more than likely, the signal that tears were coming.

Shit, Eren thought, holding her as tight as he dared. Shit. He was going to kill her brother.

They were out there almost an hour total before a car finally pulled up in front of them. Eren had hauled out his DS and shoved it at Isabel, letting her play with his pokemon team, feeding them poke-puffs and petting them to distract herself. The car that pulled up was small and white, stopping in the slot directly in front of them with hardly more than a rumble. Isabel didn’t look up at first, playing one of the poke-puff games that required her full attention, but Eren watched as the driver cut the engine and tumbled out, tall and bright eyed with glasses and brown hair.

They didn’t look like Isabel, but honestly Mikasa didn’t look anything like he did, so what did he know. He knew he was glaring when the person faltered for a second, stumbling around the car door before calling out, voice arching high through the cold, “Isabel!”
Isabel jolted at the sound of the voice, head jerking up, knocking her head back against Eren’s jaw. He yelped at the pain, falling back away from her, and his DS clattered to the pavement as Isabel rocked up and toward the person with a shriek.

“Hanji,” she screamed, rushing forward. Eren eyed the dropped device while he rubbed his jaw, confused.

“Who the fuck is Hanji,” he muttered, watching the little college student launch into the brunette’s arms. Isabel's tiny frame clung easily to their neck as they lifted her, swinging her up into the air with a laugh.

Isabel was babbling at them, voice going wobbly and inocherent with worry, but the person seemed to understand her just fine. They ran a hand down their back and hummed, kissing the top of her head with a loud smack when she finally fell silent.

“Isabel, Isabel, I’m sorry,” the person, Hanji supposedly, said. “I thought your brother texted you last night, but I guess the message didn’t go through. Oh, sweetie, if I’d known that I would’ve text you myself!”

Isabel drew back slightly, enough that Eren could see her face. Her cheeks were red from the cold air, just like her nose was, and her eyes were bright again with tears. “Levi hasn’t texted me since September,” she said, the curl of her lips telling Eren that the words hurt on the way out.

He could imagine they hurt; if Mikasa hadn’t texted him since September he would have called the fucking National Guard or something, probably lost his fucking mind with homesickness and worry. He didn’t always respond to his sister’s texts (which at the moment he felt extremely guilty for) but she always texted him, almost every day, just to let him know how she was doing.

He had never appreciated it before, but looking up at Isabel and whoever-the-fuck-Hanji-was Eren felt like he should. He played around with the idea of texting Mikasa right there and then, but he figured he’d see her in a couple of hours, if he hadn’t missed his bus already. He’d hug Mikasa when he got home, let her know that he loved her more than anything and that he was just a shithead idiot brother who didn’t know how to not be a pain in her ass. Or something. He’d figure it out.

“I’m sorry,” the Hanji person repeated, hands coming up to cup Isabel’s face. “Erwin had to send them on a meeting last minute. Levi and Farlan were going to try to finish the meeting, rent a car and come get you, but it didn’t work out. They’re still there, so they sent me out after you. Levi said he texted you last night, but I guess they’re not getting great reception up on the mountain…”

Isabel’s lip quivered and her cheeks flushed a darker shade of red, but no tears fell. Eren knew how that felt, down to his core. He'd had his share of bottled up emotions turned into dangerous ticking cocktails inside his chest with enough punch that he’d nearly been expelled a handful of times back in high school, when he was still learning to control the rage and grief inside him. He leaned forward and snagged his DS from the ground, saving the game absently before he closed it and slipped it in his hoodie’s pocket. From there he stood, knees creaking like he was old as shit from being in the same position in the cold for an hour, finding that he towered over both Isabel and their friend/maybe relative.

“Hey,” Eren said, interrupting with absolutely zero tack, because he was cold and whoever this person was they had made Isabel worry and that was Not Okay. “I’m Eren.”

Two pairs of eyes jerked to look at him, one familiar and one foreign but curious. Eren met Hanji’s eyes head on, chin raised, muscles tensed as they had been when he had first heard Isabel’s cry in the alleyway months before.

“Oh,” the brunette said, glasses reflecting the weak winter sunlight in a way that made suddenly Eren want to shift on his heels and maybe take a step back. (So much for bravery fueled by anger, he thought warily.) Their face did something weird, like a subtle shift, and suddenly they weren’t looking at him so much as looking through him. “You’re Eren.”

“Hanji,” Isabel hissed, hopping back so that she was between the stranger and Eren. Eren would have felt a little annoyed that she thought he needed the protection, but the name was finally starting to ring a few bells in his brain. From what he remembered Hanji was some sort of scientist that Isabel fondly referred to as ‘endearingly mad’. He could sort of see why, even if they were wearing an oversized sweater that looked like it was from their university days and ripped skinny jeans, like so many of the college students Eren knew on campus.

“Bella,” Hanji mimicked back, grinning wider with every breath. “He’s even cuter than he was on Instagram!”

“Ugh,” Isabel replied, while Eren was trying to wrap his mind around that sentence in a way that made it seem less creepy. He wasn’t finding one. “Don’t call me Bella, you know I hate that nickname.”

“I know,” Hanji said, grin going soft and crooked as they gazed at the tiny girl in front of Eren. They were strangely compelling looking, with weird blue eyes that looked purple through their glasses and a wild head of hair clipped in some sort of pony tail, their nose angular and their voice warm. They seemed weird, but not in a completely bad way.

Intense, Eren thought, as Isabel made a show of huffing and crossing her arms. Intense was the word he’d use for them.

“So,” Hanji said, crossing their arms back at Isbael, hip cocked to the side. They were obviously familiar with Isabel’s habits. It almost made Eren snicker. “What’s pretty boy doing still here anyway? Don’t you have a bus to catch, Er-en?”

Eren opened his mouth (to say what, he wasn’t sure, but he was going to say something, because pretty boy, really?) but Isabel positively shrieked, whirling to grab at his shoulders and attempt to shake him. It was such a sudden shift he yelped in surprise, reaching up to grab at her arms. “What time is it,” she screamed, looking frantic. He blinked at her blankly.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he muttered. He glanced over her head at Hanji, who pulled out their cellphone and glanced at the screen.

“Almost four o’clock,” Hanji answered. They seemed just as alarmed by Isabel’s suddenly frantic nature as well and Eren wrapped an arm around her waist, absently trying to calm her down. He didn’t manage to complete the motion, though, as she leapt from his side and threw herself at Hanji, hands clasped together in the classic begging pose.

“Eren’s bus is supposed to leave at 4:05 and I promised him Levi and Farlan could drop him at the bus station and that’s like all the way across town so can we please get Eren over there so he doesn’t miss his bus? Please?!”

“Whoa, Izzy-bell, chill,” Eren said, holding up his hands as Hanji jerked to look at him. “It’s cool, you don’t have to-“

“Done,” Hanji interrupted, firm in a way that had Eren stuttering to a standstill. “Get in the car, I can get you there in five.”

“Uh,” Eren said, feeling like he was about to meet his maker. “The bus station’s, like, fifteen minutes away.”

Isabel glanced at him, a little bit pale, but she smiled in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring. “Don’t worry,” she said, marching over to scoop up her suitcase and attempt to pick up his duffle bag. She stumbled with the weight and he took it from her, pulling his backpack over his shoulder as he did so. “Hanji’s never been in a wreck, right Hanji?”

“Not in this state,” Hanji said, cheerfully. Eren jerked to look at Isabel, who looked like she was at the end of her rope. “Kidding,” Hanji cried, hopping gleefully back in the driver’s side and starting the car with a worryingly loud roar that was at odds with the quite rumble from earlier.

Isabel swung her suitcase in the backseat before climbing in the passenger seat as Eren climbed into the seat behind the driver’s seat. He was close enough to hear the mutter of, “or am I,” that Hanji gave just as he closed his door.

He wasn’t buckled in when they suddenly swung out in reverse, toppling over on his side with a yelp. Isabel shot him the most apologetic look he had ever seen as he scrambled upright, her own seatbelt on and her hand clamped tightly over the armrest.

The next five minutes (because, somehow, Hanji did in fact get them to the station in five minutes without crashing or getting pulled over) were the most horrifying of his life. It was like the time in high school when Mikasa and Annie had dragged him on a wooden rollercoaster only ten time more horrifying, because Hanji kept laughing while the rest of the cars around them honked. But they made it and Eren tumbled out of the car, clutching his duffle bag and backpack in a white knuckled grip, chest heaving slightly as he blinked down at the pair still in the car.

“Tada,” Hanji said, beaming. “Told you I could do it.”

Isabel mouthed sorry up at him with a little grin that told him Hanji’s driving might not always been so wild. He wondered what he had done to deserve the hazing ritual he was suddenly sure he had just endured, but in the end he released his grip on the duffle bag with a sigh and bent to hug Isabel through the open car window.

“Thanks for the ride, I think,” Eren muttered, reaching his hand over Isabel’s shoulder to shake Hanji’s hand. Hanji took his hand in both of theirs, pumping it with a smirk that made him slightly uneasy. They only released his arm when Isabel swatted at them and muttered for them to stop being creepy under her breath. “It was, uh, nice to meet you?”

“It was very nice to meet you,” Hanji chimed, earning another swat from a pink cheeked Isabel. Eren couldn’t help but laugh at that, awkward though the sound was, because it was so Isabel. He reached out and ruffled her hair as he drew back out the window, smiling when their eyes met as he straightened and leaned back.

“Text me when you get home,” Isabel demanded, leaning back out the window at him this time.

“Yes ma’am,” Eren drawled, sarcastic as he could. She smacked him, faster than he was expecting, and he stepped back with a wince, rubbing at his side as he did so. “Now go,” Isabel continued, shooing him away like he was a child. “You’re going to miss your bus!”

“I’m going, Jesus Christ, you’re bossy today.” He ducked to grab his duffle bag and she fisted her hands in his shirt, hauling him in for a kiss on his cheek. He cupped her cheek, twisting to give her a loud smacking kiss back, and she pulled back with a giggle as he finally grabbed his bag and stepped all the way back.

“Bye, loser,” she called, waving. Hanji was giving him an odd look from their spot in the driver’s seat, part warm smile, part sad eyes, all confusing as hell. “I can’t miss you if you’re not gone!”

“Oh my god,” he laughed, turning to leave. “You’re worse than Jean!”

“Lies,” Isabel shouted at his back. He glanced back, noting how she was twisted out the window to wave at him as he crossed the parking lot. He laughed as she ducked back in the car and rolled up the windows, glad she was finally escaping the cold air. She was too tiny and southern to deal with winter up north, he thought fondly, glancing around to find his bus.

He was the last one to board the bus before it took off and as he sat he caught a glimpse of Hanji’s little white car driving off. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out, realizing he had a notification from Instagram.

There were actually two notifications from Instagram. One stating that MadScientistInTheory had started following him. The second was a picture that he was tagged in, but it wasn’t from Isabel.

“Oh no,” he whispered to himself. He clicked on it anyway.

It was a picture of him walking away, duffle bag in hand and backpack slung over one shoulder. The caption on it made him blush, heat creeping all the way to his ears as he squirmed down in his seat.

He’s as cute from the front as he is from the back. If @petiteoiseau can’t keep him, can I keep him @corporalcleansalot? #hedoesn’tlookmangytomehonestly @thatjaegerkid

There weren’t any comments from Isabel’s brother, which made sense with Hanji’s earlier comment about their terrible reception on whatever mountain they were on, but there was a comment from Isabel. It said, simply, “hands off, Hanji; he’s MY best friend.”

Best friend, Eren thought to himself. His finger hovered over the button to follow Hanji before he clicked it purposefully, scrolling down to stare at the picture a little longer. He double tapped it to like it, not knowing what to say about the comment at first. Eventually he tapped the comment section and just wrote, “@petiteosieau same” and hit send, feeling a little stupid but not being able to put into words how much that comment meant to him.

Which reminded him, in a way, of his earlier idea. He sighed, opening up his text messaging app and scrolling until he reached Annie’s contact. The picture was from their last year of high school, her draped across the hood of Mikasa’s car during the fundraiser she’d only grudgingly participated in, their super sexist but still very popular annual car wash. She was scowling at the camera, flipping him off and glaring, and in the background, forever creeping just behind her, was Reiner with a bucket of water.

She had all but made the taller boy cry barely a minute after Eren had taken that picture and it was honestly one of his favorite high school memories. He smiled just from looking at it before clicking on the subject line for the text and pausing, awkward.

Tell Mikasa I love her, he typed out eventually. She deserved more than that, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it work. Her earlier voicemail was still in his phone, a reminder of how much she cared. His heart clenched just thinking about it, but Annie’s response came before he could switch apps and listen to it.

4:07 PM
From: Annie
If you’re in the back of a police car again I s2g we’re taking your Christmas presents back.

Eren might have squawked had it not been for the way he bit the noise back with a scowl, teeth digging into his lip. That was one time, he fired back, immediate and indignant. And Hannes took me straight home, thank you very fucking much.

4:08 PM
From: Annie
Once is enough, Eren. Are you in trouble?

And this is why Eren didn’t try to be overly affectation with his goddamn sister, he thought bitterly. NO, he pecked out on the touch screen, only sulking a little as he kicked his feet up into the seat beside him and put his head against the window, despite the annoying vibrations. He’d move in a second, he figured, but this was a very good position to be annoyed in.

4:08 PM
To: Annie
NO! Just fucking tell her gdi.

The reply took so long to come that Eren had switched positions, knocking the arm rests in between the two seats up and sprawling across them both on his back. It wasn’t too polite, but he was in the very back on an eight hour bus ride, so he wasn’t too worried about polite. He had his DS open above his face, phone tucked under his chin, so when the phone did buzz with the message it made him choke in surprise and fuck up the puzzle he was doing on the game.

4:12 PM
From: Annie
Your sister says that she loves you, but if you make us drive 7-8 hours more to bail your ass out she’s going to be giving you your own intestines wrapped in tissue paper for Christmas.

4:12 PM
To: Annie
That’s gross. She’s gross. And you’re gross for probably finding that threat attractive. Remind me why I’m coming home again?

4:13 PM
From: Annie
Mikasa says it’s because you love us. I think it’s because you’re a sissy, but w/e.

“Well, I can’t really argue with your logic there,” Eren muttered, squinting at his phone screen. Both girls made very valid points; he did love them and when it came to his sister and her threats, he was the world’s biggest sissy. Anyone who laughed at him for that could relive his childhood of having his ass handed to him in every sport they’d ever played and every self defense class they had ever taken. He also had a healthy amount of fear and respect for Annie, even though he loved her and knew she was more like a kitten than a tiger. He texted back a quick message before returning to his video game, head cushioned against his own backpack as he held the DS precariously above him

4:14 PM
To: Annie
We’ll see who’s the sissy when you’re crying at the sight of me at the bus station in eight hours.

-

Eight hours later Eren was the one with tears burning in the corners of his eyes at the sight of not only Annie and Mikasa at the bus station, but Armin as well. All three of them were huddled together in hoodies and scarves as they leaned against the back of Mikasa’s car, beaming from ear to ear as he staggered across the parking lot.

“Hey, man,” Armin called, grinning at him brightly. Annie was tucked under Mikasa’s chin and half wrapped in his sister’s huge jacket, looking sleepy in the cold midnight air, her eyes only half open. Mikasa smiled at him, fingers twitching out of her sleeves in a wave, and all at once it hit him.

He was home.

“Who’s the fucking sissy now,” Annie muttered, just loud enough that it carried as he came closer. He sniffed and tried to rearrange his face into something less like a crybaby about to burst, but from her smile and the way she started to play with her phone he was sure she had caught a picture of whatever expression he had been wearing before he could cover it up. He wanted to be annoyed, especially when his phone buzzed in his pocket, but he couldn’t make himself care.

“You’re the fucking sissy,” Eren growled. He lurched forward, dropping the duffle, slinging his arms around Armin and Mikasa’s shoulders and making sure to squish Annie in between his body and Mikasa’s. Annie only put up the pretense of a fight, hissing at him not to get snot on her hair as Mikasa and Armin threw their arms back over his shoulders and squeezed him, fingers digging into his shoulders like they would never him go again.

“I’m home,” Eren muttered, the words pulling at the pit of his stomach until it hurt.

“Welcome home, Eren,” Armin and Mikasa muttered back.

“I’m gonna vomit,” Annie murmured, but she slung her arms around Eren’s neck anyway, giving him a squeeze. Her fingernails scratched slightly at the back of his neck as she did so, making him shudder a little, which in turn made her laugh quietly against his shoulder.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell them how much he’d missed them, how long it had felt since he’d been able to curl around the two people who were the only family he thought he needed anymore (plus Annie but she was dating Mikasa do she was practically family), but before he could find the words Armin drew back. His hand slid down Eren’s arm, until he was slipping away and reaching for the abandoned duffle bag while Mikasa drew back as well, though Annie stayed pressed against him for a second longer, affection in the way standoffish cats were before she ducked again and made for the passenger door.

“Come on, man,” Armin said, grinning at him brightly. “Let’s go home.”

Eren swallowed, throat tight. “Yeah,” Eren answered. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Isabel spent two days with Hanji before Levi and Farlan returned. They were easy days, ones she honestly enjoyed because Hanji didn’t push or prod too much, just fed her and pet her hair like she was one of their pups. She slept while Hanji was at work, played with Sonny and Bean when she was awake, and Hanji took her on errands (mostly indulgent Christmas shopping) after they got off work. It was a nice wind down from her semester away (and she loved Hanji and their dogs), but she couldn’t deny the relief she felt when Hanji texted her to let her know her boys were coming home.

She was still faintly upset about her idiot brother not checking to see if she got his stupid text, which she thought was something she was within her right to be upset about. But when his car pulled into the front yard of Hanji’s little house all that anger and frustration fled, instantly replaced by the memory of her heart racing inside the cage of Eren’s arms. Her chest went tight as she struggled for air through the feeling in her ribs. With a shudder she flung herself off Hanji’s porch and toward the familiar silver car.

Levi didn’t even turn the car off. He threw it in park and shoved his door open, all but falling out to catch her as she ran his way. She was faintly aware of Farlan muttering, “yeah, we fucked up,” from the other side of the car, but that wasn’t what she was focused on. She was focused on the way Levi’s arms wound around her, tight and secure, as her brother hugged her so hard she was lifted off the ground just a little.

“You’re an asshole,” Isabel muttered, voice catching wetly in her throat as her eyes burned. Levi squeezed her impossibly tighter, fingers clenching in the sides of her sweater.

“Sorry,” Levi muttered, quiet but sincere. “I thought you were ignoring my text because you were mad. I should’ve double checked with you, I’m sorry.”

Isabel opened her mouth to tell him she had thought they both were dead but the words got caught, leaving her shaking as she clutched at her brother’s back. Levi sighed against the top of her head as footsteps rounded the car behind her. The warmth of the towering figure against her back was familiar, the same way Levi’s was, but it made her chest ache in a different way, a sharper sideways way she was too tired to ignore.

“Our bad,” Farlan said, not quite hugging her, but not just standing there either. “Didn’t mean to worry you, kid.”

Kid, she thought, curling more into Levi’s chest. The word hurt, like it always did.

“C'mon, petite oiseau,” Levi sighed. The old familiar nickname made her feel even smaller, but it settled her as well. She let him push her back a little, his cold fingers ghosting up her cheek to tuck her bangs behind her ear. Eren did the same thing, she realized; she hadn’t been able to figure out why the habit had been so calming until right then. It only strengthened her idea that Eren and Levi would get along better than either expected.

“Let’s go home,” Levi finished quietly.

Home. God, yeah.

“We’re having Chinese takeout for dinner,” Isabel informed him. “And you two are going to watch whatever movie I want.”

Levi snorted, amused, eyebrows arching as he shrugged. “I guess that’s fair,” he conceded.

Behind her Farlan whispered, “anything but the Titanic.”

She ate so many eggrolls that night her stomach ached and all three of them suffered through Titanic until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t a complete fix (especially since Isabel was beginning to suspect she and Levi needed to actually talk about their lack of texting the past semester, ick) but it was a good band aid for the hurt inside.

Before the boys shook of their exhaustion and hauled themselves off the couch Isabel managed to snag a picture of them together. She had made them take a selfie with her earlier to post to Instagram, but this picture was darker and more personal, Levi slouched with his head tossed over the back of the couch while Farlan was slumped sideways into the space where she had been curled. The image was saved into her phone and then, on a whim, she sent it to Eren too.

My idiots, she put underneath, grinning as she did so.

“Alright, losers,” Isabel cheered, enjoying the jolt of surprise from the two dozing boys. “Go to bed, you have work tomorrow!”

She received twin dead eyed looks before Levi sighed and shoved his way to his feet. He kissed the top of her head as he hugged her, muttering goodnight with a scratchy throat, before disappearing down the hall and into his room without another word. That left her with the sleepy eyed sprawled form of Farlan, who seemed disinclined to move at all, let alone stand.

“Come on, you idiot,” Isabel teased, coming closer so that she could tug on his arm to try and get him up. “You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you sleep like that.”

“You’re so noisy,” Farlan muttered. “And bossy.”

Isabel froze. The words weren’t met to make her want to scream, she could tell that by the half asleep smile curling his lips up at the corners. But Isabel wanted to scream all the same, to pull her hair and howl at the sky, because it was like she had never fucking left. She huffed instead, biting her lip as she turned to storm away, but a gentle grip on her wrist halted her steps.

“I missed you,” Farlan said.

Isabel swallowed roughly, hoping he was too tired to notice the way her hand shook as she carefully pulled it from his grip.

“I missed you too,” she told him. She turned and left before he could stand up, calling over her shoulder, “goodnight,” as she all but ran down the hall. She changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, crawling into bed as the faint sound of Farlan’s door opening and closing echoed through the vent. She went to plug her phone in and place it on the little dresser by her bed when she realized she had a text message from Eren.

It was a picture message, a dark room much like her living room, the camera aimed at a couch lit by the light of a TV, if she had to guess. There were three people crammed on the couch, two blondes and a dark haired girl, all of which Isabel recognized from Eren’s Instagram and stories.

Armin, Mikasa, and Annie, she thought. There was a little dip between Armin and Mikasa, barely big enough for her to squeeze in but somehow she knew that was where Eren belonged. None of them were looking at the camera, but all of them were smiling and lively in the dim light.

My idiots, Eren’s caption read. It was followed by a short and sweet message.

I miss you.

“I miss you too,” she mumbled, typing the words in carefully before she sent it. She saved the image Eren had sent before placing her phone back on the dresser and crawling beneath her covers.

-

Isabel sat at the counter while Levi peeled potatoes, one of their old mix CDs playing on the old system in the corner. Farlan had been sent to brave the cold and the dark alone, since it was his fault they were out of milk, and Isabel wasn't bored exactly- just lazy and content to sit and watch her brother. Her phone buzzed a little past 8, which in itself wasn't weird; Farlan could have been texting that he was on his way back or Eren could have been asking about her day. Jean texted her occasionally, but only when he wanted to get his ass kicked in Call of Duty, so she was partially expecting him as well.

But it wasn't Farlan, or Eren, or Jean. It was an unknown number instead.

8:04 PM
From: XXX-XXXX
Eren knows all the words to Katy Perry’s Peacock. He also can dance the Single Ladies dance mostly by memory.

Isabel knew that Eren leaned toward pop music, but Peacock? Single Ladies? There were only two people who would have that kind of dirt on Eren who would text her, but before she could try to figure out which one was handing over the blackmail worthy information she was being given her phone buzzed again.

8:04 PM
From: Eren
I KNOW LIKE THE CHORUS OF PEACOCK? AND SINGLE LADIES IS A CATCHY SONG I DARE YOU TO FIND SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T DANCE TO THAT???

Isabel laughed, biting her bottom lip as she backed out of Eren's messages and went back to the unknown number. Tired of having him home already, she asked, laughing again at the thought of Eren's indignant defensive text. Also, sorry, but Mikasa or Armin?

"What's so funny," Levi asked quietly, making her jump. She knocked her knees against the island counter, yelping and scrambling to keep a hold of her phone as it flew out of her grip. Levi peeked at her over his shoulder, watching her flail to catch her phone before it fell to the ground. She managed it, but only just barely.

“Huh,” she muttered, glancing between her phone and him. Her phone buzzed and Levi raised an eyebrow, but something was off in his expression.

“Never mind,” Levi said. He rolled his eyes and faced the sink again, back to where he was finishing peeling the potatoes. Isabel found herself frowning at her back, something stirring in her gut uncomfortably at the turn in their silence. Her phone buzzed again, but she only glanced at the screen briefly before looking back up at her brother. Her gut twisted but she straightened her spine and took a deep, shuttering breath.

“Why didn’t you text me?”

Isabel watched her older brother stiffen. His hands stilled, his weight shifting forward to lean against the edge of the sink, and his head sunk low, just a little, just for a second. Her heart did a little miserable flip at the sudden change in him, but she bit her lip on the conviction that they needed to talk.

She’d spent too many months already missing her brother. She wasn’t going to stand around missing him anymore when he was right there with her.

“Iz,” he said. She swallowed roughly, shuddering a little with a guilty kind of misery.

“Don’t Iz me, Levi,” she tried to snap, but it came out a whisper. She swallowed again, even rougher than before, fighting for her words.

“You never texted me back,” she told him. Her eyes stung, which was so annoying. She pushed forward, continuing with, “You never texted me first, either. Didn’t- didn’t you wanna know how school was going? How I was doing?”

Levi sighed. Isabel wanted to be mad at him, like she had in the beginning of the school year, but she couldn’t. All she wanted was a fucking hug and for her brother to talk to her.

“Hanji passed on news to the office,” he muttered eventually. “I knew you were okay.”

A little bubble of bitterness powered her long enough to spit, “wasn’t that supposed to be your job, brother dearest?” Levi jerked like she had hit him, his movements almost robotic as he carefully placed the potato he had been peeling in the sink and turned.

His face wasn’t like thunder, like it usually was when he was mad. It was like she was looking at a reflection of her brother in a window, pale and far away, his eyes shadowed in the kitchen’s light. He looked at her, expression troubled, before sighing again, slow and careful. His shoulders sank a little with the motion.

“Do you want the truth,” he asked quietly. She swallowed and nodded, leaning forward against the counter. Her phone buzzed again but she didn’t even glance at it.

“I didn’t want to nag you.”

Isabel’s mouth fell open, but no words came. She blinked, her chest constricting, and with a little shaky wheeze, she laughed.

“Nag,” she repeated breathlessly. Her eyes were watering. Her hands were clenched into fists around her phone and she shook as she looked at him. “You ignored me for months because you didn’t want to nag me?”

Levi smiled and it wasn’t nice, or happy, or even proud. It was a small bitter smile, crooked and sad, and it made her stomach drop to her toes.

“It does sound stupid when you say it like that,” he muttered. She laughed again, because it was the only thing she could do with her eyes burning and her chest so tight she felt dizzy.

“In my defense,” Levi muttered, looking guilty and put upon as only her older brother could. “You made a very big fuss about how you were going away to college and going to be an adult, and how you didn’t want us worrying about you at every fucking turn. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to pester you about classes?”

Isabel leant forward to rest her forehead against the counter top, her laughter subsiding into little hiccupping breaths as she struggled to get herself under control. “Fair enough,” she rasped. She had spent weeks telling them to give her some trust and that she’d be fine on her own, so in hindsight it wasn’t too surprising that her brother had taken that notion to an absurd degree. Levi was known to be a little too hardcore about people making decisions on their own.

“You’re an idiot,” Isabel mumbled, shifting so that her cheek was pressed against the countertop instead. This gave her a spectacular view of her brother, looking concerned and awkward in the middle of the kitchen, staring at her with stormy eyes that told her everything she needed to know. Levi wouldn’t do this to her again.

“Come here and hug me,” she told him quietly. He was at her side as fast as he could be without vaulting over the counter between them, shoving her over on the stool to perch at the edge as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and slung the other around her waist. She twisted, curling her arms around his back to hug him as tightly as she could without slipping off the stool. Not that Levi would let her slip off the stool, but still.

Not even a minute had passed before the front door suddenly opened, the sound of Farlan’s complaining about the cold loud against the sound of the CD in the background. Isabel couldn’t help but snort against Levi’s shoulder as the sound of Farlan’s complaints cut off with an audible choking noise, his footsteps halting somewhere in the living room.

“Uh,” Farlan said carefully. He sounded like the textbook definition of the word awkward. “Everything okay?”

“Levi’s got a butt for a head,” Isabel called out. Levi pinched her, making her shriek and jerk out of his arms. She flailed back, almost falling from the stool, but Levi caught her arms, hauling her upright with the warm grin she’d missed seeing so much.

“Isabel’s being impossible,” Levi denied easily. “As usual.”

“Uh huh,” Farlan said. Isabel glanced at him and found him watching them both fondly, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. He looked bemused, like he knew he had missed something, but he also looked like he was just happy to see them happy.

Isabel found herself wishing she could kiss him with a sad little twist in her gut as Levi went back to peeling potatoes in the kitchen.

(But that, really, was nothing new.)

Chapter Text

“So you and your brother talked, huh?”

“Yeah,” Isabel said over the phone. She sounded shy about the matter, but Eren knew she was pleased. He could see her in his head, how she’d be smiling down at her lap, the way she always did when she didn’t want anyone really looking at her. Eren smiled just at the thought, kicking his legs up and over the arm of the couch as he fell back. He’d rather be in the basement, but the basement got such shit reception that he didn’t think he’d be able to hear her if he hid down there.

Whatever, he thought. Risking his dad coming home during their conversation was worth getting to talk to Isabel like this.

“And you worked it all out?”

“Wasn’t much to work out,” Isabel told him. “I called him a dumb butt and he said I was impossible. That’s practically good as new to us.”

Eren thought back to the various arguments Mikasa and he had gone through since they’d both gotten home a week ago and snorted. “I feel it,” he muttered, lip curling into a grin. “Mikasa’s been driving me up the wall and-“

Isabel’s laughter interrupted him, the sound bell-like but with an edge that made him shudder. Annie laughed like that when she knew something he didn’t. He swallowed, sitting up carefully as he switched the phone to his other ear.

“Izzy-bell,” he said carefully. “What the fuck?”

“Peacock, Eren,” she asked, giggling still. “Really?”

Eren groaned, flopping on his back again and flinging his arm to cover his face. He’d been arguing with Mikasa the day before and, after declaring that she wasn’t going to put up with his shit, she had pulled out her phone and sent a text. He’d snatched her phone, trying to figure out what she’d done (her smirk had been wider than the fucking country and Eren had lived his entire life in fear of that expression, alright, of course he’d snatched that fucking phone) only to see that she had texted Isabel that he knew pop songs.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been surprising to Isabel that he could dance to Single Ladies or sing Katy Perry. But at the time he’d panicked and immediately texted her defending his honor and now. Now he was here. On the couch, on his back, Isabel laughing in his ear.

“In my defense,” Eren growled, “it’s a really easy song to get stuck in your head.”

“You’ve got garbage taste in music,” Isabel teased, still giggling. “Like, honestly, I don’t know why I was even surprised.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; trust me, I’ve heard it all from Jean.”

Isabel hummed quietly in her throat and the sound made Eren smile. “You boys gonna be up for gaming tonight,” she asked, sounding muffled for a second. She was probably moving around and Eren wriggled deeper against the couch cushions, turning to roll onto his stomach with the phone balanced on the side of his face. He sighed, his back popping as he did so, and Isabel snorted.

“Probably,” he said. “I haven’t talked to Jean much today, but he’s usually not doing anything, since everyone he knows in his home town falls into the Assholes From High School I Don’t Want To Speak To Again category.”

“I feel it,” Isabel said, loud and laughing. “I’ve been pestering Levi, Farlan, and their co-workers, but other than that there hasn’t been much to do. I keep meaning to go to the post office and ship out your presents, but that requires, like, getting up and going to the post office and that’s just. A lot of work.”

Eren couldn’t help but laugh, shoulders shaking so much his phone skittered off his cheek and fell to the floor. He could faintly hear Isabel huffing in her own defense, but the sound was distant as he turned his face down against the cushions and sighed. Isabel was a safe place in this house, he thought as he reached for his phone. A bright spot in the darkness of old memories and-

“Eren,” his father said, interrupting that thought and chasing it inside Eren’s head with the thought of speak of the devil he almost said out loud. Eren jolted, fingers clenching around his phone before he dropped it again on reflex. He must have been laughing and hadn’t realize the old man had come in. His shoulders hunched all the way to his ears at the idea and he could feel the tension coiling up his spine, making him tense from his toes all the way to his white knuckled grip as he finally picked up his phone.

Isabel was chattering on, calling his name, but Eren felt like he was hearing the phone’s noise through glass as he sat up. His father was hanging up his coat and taking off his hat in the hallway, door already shut behind him, and the sight of him between Eren and the door made him freeze, just for a second. The man was already scowling at him, glasses catching the light in the living room, and Eren shifted in the sweatshirt he’d been wearing for days, tucking his jam-stained jean legs up under him as he hunched over to tuck his phone against his ear.

“Hey,” he said. He tried to say Isabel’s name, but knowing his dad was so close made his throat close up. “I gotta-“

“Eren,” Isabel said, loud and concerned and bright and god, he could picture her; the scrunch of her nose and curl of her bangs against her temple. He wondered how someone he’d met only a few months before had become so important so fast, but he couldn’t deny that just hearing her say his name made his shoulders unwind, just for a second.

“Are you okay,” she asked, voice going quiet at the end. “You sound. Weird.”

He probably sounded as small and weak as he felt, knowing his dad was watching and listening to him, but he just swallowed and forced out a laugh. “I’m fine,” he said. “I just gotta go, okay?”

“You sure?”

“Eren,” his dad said, sharp and close. Eren jumped, head jerking up to find his dad was standing at the edge of the couch, arms crossed. Eren swallowed, throat catching and making him choke slightly.

“When you’re done with that, I need to speak to you,” his father said, direct and pointed. Eren nodded, throat too tight to speak. His dad didn’t look pleased to have to wait for him and turned to leave immediately, his footsteps loud in the silence created from the way Eren was, apparently, unconsciously holding his breath.

“Eren,” Isabel whispered through the phone. He swallowed and cleared his throat, letting her know he was listening. “Was that your dad?”

“Yeah,” Eren said. He ran a hand through his hair, nails dragging faintly against his scalp. He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and uncurled his legs from under him to place his feet back on the ground. “I’ve gotta go.”

Isabel made a small angry noise, like she was considering saying something he wouldn’t like. He figured it was something about his dad and while the idea of bashing the old man was appealing usually, having him waiting for him in the other room stole the fire from his lungs. In the end she just sighed, the sound noisy and static filled in his ear.

“Text me if you can game later,” she said, soft and careful in his ears. “And Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best, okay. Even with your shitty ridiculous taste in music.”

When Eren laughed this time it wasn’t forced, though it was quiet and muffled under the hand he raised to cover his mouth. “Thanks, Izzy-bell,” he murmured, hanging the phone on the sound of her curling laughter. The house seemed colder after he hung up and he rubbed a hand up his opposite arm as he shoved off the couch and to his feet. He shoved his phone in his back pocket before taking a deep breath and turning for the kitchen.

His father was leaning back against the kitchen sink’s edge, arms crossed and expression dark. Eren hid a wince, shoving his hands in his jean pockets and rocking on his heels in the doorway.

“You wanted to talk to me, Dad?”

“Hm,” his dad said, pursing his lips. Eren felt his stomach turn at the sight and he swallowed, resisting the urge to lean against the doorframe. His dad hated it when he slouched around the house, especially when he was trying to Talk With Him.

“Eren,” his dad said, cutting to the chase with a sharp tone and unforgiving dark eyes (as usual). “Have you decided on a major yet?”

Eren bit the inside of his cheek on a wince, eyes sliding away from his dad’s face before he could help it. He was immediately reminded of Isabel’s face, scrunched up with guilt and confusion like a kicked puppy when they’d bit each other’s heads off in the mall. The thought made his chest tight, the edges raw with affection for the girl, and he ducked his head to avoid looking at his father.

“Well,” his dad said, impatiently. “What is your decision on your major?”

“I haven’t decided,” Eren admitted quietly.

His answer hung in the air between them. Eren didn’t think it was over dramatic to imagine it swinging like a noose, heavy and deadly. He swallowed roughly.

“Eren,” his father said, quietly, slowly. “You know-“

“I know,” Eren whispered, pressing his palms flat against the sides of his thighs. “I know, Dad, I just-“

“You just nothing, Eren,” his dad snapped, voice echoing through the kitchen like a gunshot. Eren gritted his teeth against a flinch, swallowing reflexively and almost choking when his dad took a step toward him. In times like this it felt like he was still ten years old and only coming up to his shoulder and not, as he actually was, the same height as his towering, angry dad. How he felt so small in the span of an angry breath he’d never know, but it happened without a fault.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” Eren said, trying to explain how fucking hard it was to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his god awful life. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do with the rest of his fucking winter break, let alone however many years he managed to survive. It wasn’t fucking fair.

“You’re obviously not trying hard enough,” his father snapped. He’d never had to raise his voice when Mom had been alive, leaving her to the nagging, but after she’d died he’d changed. Anger came more easily to both of them, after the funeral, Eren thought bitterly. He really did take after his dad more than his mom.

“Honestly,” his dad continued, turning to pace the length of the kitchen, away from Eren. That made it easier to breathe, though every time he turned to pace back Eren tensed again. “You spend too much time partying and throwing your life away with those- those friends you’ve made at school. It was bad enough in high school, but I expected this to stop when you grew up, Eren. You’re not sixteen anymore and one of these days you’re going to have to act like it.”

Eren felt like he’d been hit. His friends, he thought dully. It always eventually came back to that, didn’t it. In high school it had been Annie’s fault, then Reiner’s and even Bertholdt’s. Now, it seemed, it was Jean and Isabel’s fault. Eren wondered how much his dad knew about his life at college; if he followed him on Instagram, though that thought was mind boggling as it was horrifying.

“Eren,” his dad said, jerking his attention back from his quick-fire urge to check his Instagram followers to make sure his father wasn’t listed among them. His eyes met glass, darted over pursed lips and the disdainful twitch in his dad’s eyebrow that always signaled the end of a rant. His old man sighed, like there was a weight on him he couldn’t shake, a weight Eren had put there, that Eren made heavier and worse to bear with every breath he breathed, every blink he took, like everything that had gone wrong in his dad’s life originated with Eren.

“Yes,” Eren asked quietly, because he knew how this worked.

“You need to figure this out. Like I’ve been telling you this entire time, you could always follow me into medical science. That career path, at least, wouldn’t be a waste of your time.”

Small and hollow Eren blinked before nodding. “I know,” he said. He really wanted to scream, but he thought even if he tried it wouldn’t be much more than a weak cry. His dad shook his head, like Eren was lying, like he hadn’t sat through this conversation every time they met since he’d left for college.

“I expect better from you, Eren,” his dad added after a long moment. And then, the killing blow; “you’re mother would have expected better from you too.”

No matter how many times his dad used that trick, it always hit Eren like a strike to the face. He reeled back with a small stumble, winded, his eyes burning and his hands shaking. When he swallowed the action hurt, tearing at his throat like there was glass caught in his windpipe, and the whole time he splintered apart his dad watched, lips growing more pale the tighter he pressed them together.

“Do you understand me, Eren?”

“Yes,” Eren said, his voice a stranger, small and reedy and empty. He felt dizzy.

He needed to leave.

“Good,” his dad said. He stepped forward and Eren stumbled back, fighting to stay out of his dad’s way as the man walked past him, out of the kitchen, and then down the hall. The door to his study closed before Eren could find the coordination to turn, stumble into the hall, shove his feet into a pair of boots he’d outgrown last year and grab Mikasa’s keys.

His sister was down the street, babysitting the neighbor’s kids, and she’d left her car in the driveway. Eren usually tried to let her know when he borrowed it, but he needed to leave so fast he wasn’t even sure his wallet was on him. In a thin sweatshirt and old threadbare jeans he shoved his way into the driver’s seat, slammed the key in the ignition, and threw the car into gear as soon as possible.

There was half a tank of gas in the car, he realized after he’d left the city. That would probably get him far enough away that his hands would stop shaking and after that he’d find a gas station and figure out if he had his wallet or not.

In the meantime he clicked the button on the stereo for the CD in the player, cranking up the volume on the mix CD he and Annie had made of Nicki Minaj back in high school. The bass shook the windows until he could pretend his racing heart was music and not sheer fucking terror mixed with an unhealthy dose of paternal-induced panic.

(It was only when he passed the sign for the city limits of his hometown did he notice his chest was heaving with uneven breaths and his cheeks were wet with tears tracks. He had to pull over on the side of the back-ass water highway, curling over onto the steering wheel and not caring when he accidentally pressed against the horse. His shoulders shook, his breathing was labored, and outside the world was cold and grey.

It would snow tomorrow, more than likely. Probably snow from then on, until he climbed back on the bus to return to college.)

“Fuck,” Eren swore roughly, slumping into the driver’s seat after two hours of driving and finding out that yes, he did have his wallet, thank fuck. He stared at his front door, white and unassuming, with a little window and a golden knocker on the front. His throat closed over as he turned off the car, sitting in silence as he ignored the shake in his hands. In his head he could still hear his dad, hear the ring of his voice, every word reeking of disgust. Everything felt like his fault when his dad talked, even the piss poor weather.

“Fuck,” he said again, “I fucking hate it here.”

Chapter Text

“Remind me why we left everything until the day before the party again?”

“You know why,” Levi called. Isabel didn’t need to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. “No one was inclined to listen to you whine when you came home and we’d already done all this shit without you.”

Isabel huffed, rolling her eyes back at her older brother. “Fuck you,” she said, even though he wasn’t exactly wrong. She loved holiday decorating. Mike huffed quietly, like an old dog breathing to let you know he was alive, and Isabel shifted to hook the ornament in her hand to a higher spot on the tree.

“Isabel,” Erwin shouted from the kitchen. “Your phone is buzzing; I think someone’s calling you.”

Mike turned and Isabel’s world swayed, making her scramble to cling to his head. “I’m a little stuck here,” she hollered back, when Mike made no move to take her to the kitchen. Levi snorted from the loveseat at their side, his lap covered in newspaper from unwrapping the delicate ornaments they were hanging.

“Do you want me to answer it?”

Isabel tried not to groan as she shouted, “yes,” back at him. There was a second of silence before his voice sounded in the kitchen again, muffled as he answered her phone. She assumed it was Farlan calling, standing in the middle of the mall like always, at a loss of what to get everyone for Christmas.

“Probably Farlan,” Levi muttered, reaching up to hand her another ornament. She leaned over from her perch on Mike’s shoulders as the man she was using as a human ladder took it from Levi and passed it up to her. He turned her back around toward the Christmas tree they were decorating, humming quietly in agreement. Isabel had to laugh at how closely her brother’s guess mimicked hers.

“Actually,” Erwin interrupted, coming from out of the kitchen with a flour covered apron that faintly read kiss the cook. Mike twisted so that Isabel didn’t have to crane to see him, holding the phone out as he walked across his stupidly huge living room to where they were. “It’s Eren.”

“Eren,” Isabel squeaked, flailing her arms in circles from on top of Mike’s shoulders. “Oh, oh! Let me down, you guys can finish this without me!”

“What,” Levi said, voice flat and thin. When Isabel glanced down at him he was staring up at her, borderline livid with disbelief. “You bitch every year if we try to put the star on without you.”

Isabel rolled her eyes as Mike carefully lifted her from his shoulders and dropped her down onto the carpet. “Then wait for me for the star, but Mike can reach the rest.”

Levi gaped at her while she hopped the back of the other loveseat and snatched the phone from Erwin’s hand. She tucked it under her ear and against her shoulder as she waved her thanks to the apron wearing man, falling back against the edge of the loveseat so she toppled over, landing on the cushions on her back.

“Hey you,” she said, voice jumping a little when she knocked into the soft cushions. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Eren said, “nothing? The guy who picked up said you were busy, so if you need you can call me back. I was just kind of bored, but I’ll live…”

“Nah, you’re good,” Isabel promised, kicking her feet up on the arm and wriggling down until the top of her head was pressed against the other arm. Mike and Levi were muttering to each other in the background, but she wasn’t paying attention to them. “I was just helping decorate the tree, but we’re almost done, so Mike and Levi can handle the rest.”

“If you think I’m fucking climbing Mike, you’re out of your damn mind.”

Isabel waved her hand at Levi to let him know she heard him but didn’t care. Mike muttered something about a ladder while Eren huffed quietly through the phone, soft and small. Isabel bit her lip at the sound that was becoming all too familiar now that her friend was back in his father’s house.

“Honestly, Isabel, you can keep doing your thing. I was just tired of listening to Armin and Jean talk on Skype and Mikasa’s crashed on the couch, so I can’t boot up Armin’s old Gamecube without waking her. I can deal if you’re doing family shit.”

“Eren,” Isabel groaned, rolling her eyes. “I said you’re fine! The tree’s no big deal- I mean, it’s like ten feet tall and stupidly pine-y smelling, so my hands are going to reek for the next three weeks, but we do this every year. As long as I get to put the star on, I’m happy.”

Eren sighed, this tension filled noise of static that made her gut clench. “If you say so,” he said, muffled for a split second. She sat up, twisting to put her back against the couch properly before crossing her legs under her.

“Hey,” she said, pitching her voice softer, to match his. “Are you okay? Is your dad there?”

In her peripheral Levi stilled, hands freezing as he pulled out one of the last glass ornaments from the box. There was newspaper scattered around his feet from packing all of the ornaments together so they wouldn’t break and even that didn’t make a sound as he seemed to turn to stone. Isabel noticed it absently, confused for a second before she focused in on Eren, on the hitch in his breathing before he sighed.

“I’m fine, Izzy-bell,” Eren said, slow and soft. “I’m over at Armin’s right now, so my dad’s nowhere to be found. But-“

“But,” Isabel echoed, narrowing her eyes. “Did he yell at you again? Did he hurt-“

“He didn’t do anything,” Eren interrupted, sounding worn thin. Isabel wished he was right in front of her, so she could wedge her way under his arm and give him a hug. He sounded like he needed a hug.

“He’s got the day off,” Eren continued after a second, sounding a little like he was dragging a hand through his hair. Isabel had seen him do that move a lot when he was stressed or upset, nails against his scalp, shoulders so tense they could deflect bullets. She clenched the fingers of her free hand in her lap and resisted the urge to interrupt him as he sighed. “He takes the shifts during Christmas day and we spend the day with Armin and his grandfather, but he always has the three days leading up to Christmas off. I’ll have to go home with Mikasa in a few hours, but for now I’m fine.”

Isabel huffed, a jagged sort of anger pulling at her gut. She fidgeted on the couch, scowling without any ability to stop it, and on the other loveseat Levi shifted, drawing her attention to him while Eren breathed, distant and not very reassuring in her ear.

Levi was looking at her with this stony expression she hardly recognized. It sent a little shiver down her spine, because he was obviously upset and for a second she felt small, the thought that she’d upset him flying through her head. But she knew Levi didn’t give a shit about tradition or anything, so the fact that she’d abandoned decorating to talk to Eren couldn’t be what was upsetting him. She pulled the phone away from her mouth, tucking it more against her shoulder so that the mouth piece was muffled, and whispered her brother’s name, soft and questioning.

Levi blinked, something dark flitting across his face before he leaned his elbows onto his knees and bent toward her. Newspaper crinkled as he moved.

“Is your friend okay,” Levi said, voice almost too even. It sounded a little clipped, actually, like he was biting back something else he wanted to say. Isabel blinked in surprise before it caught up to her what Levi was asking. Then she rolled her eyes, irritated with the situation as a whole.

“He says he’s fine,” Isabel told her brother, pointedly loud. Eren made a noise of confusion as she brought the phone back to her mouth, explaining quietly, “Levi wanted to know if you’re okay.”

“Uh,” Eren said, still very confused. “Why does your brother want to know if I’m okay?”

“Probably because I implied that your father is a piece of shit abusing asshole in front of him,” Isabel said without remorse. “Which, you know, he is.”

Eren’s small strangled noise would have been funny during any other topic of conversation, but the anger burning bright in Isabel’s chest and the split second of fury that darted across Levi’s face made the situation too grave.

“He’s not- Isabel,” Eren hissed. “He doesn’t, like, fucking hit me or anything, Jesus fucking Christ. Don’t say shit like that, you’re blowing this way outta proportion!”

“I am not blowing this way out of proportion,” Isabel argued back. If Eren were in front of her right at that second she’d punch him, square in the stomach, until he bent down far enough she could grab his dumb head and shake it. “He’s a fucking piece of shit. He doesn’t need to fucking hit you to be abusive, Eren, you do know that right?”

Levi was pale and tense across from her as Mike reentered the room with a ladder before freezing, sensing something was going on. She watched as he leaned the ladder against the wall and ducked into the kitchen, his voice and Erwin’s a dull hum. Eren gritted his teeth, audible even over their phone connection, and sighed.

“Iz,” he said, sounding too small for her liking. He sounded like a child, lost and upset, and she wanted him to sound like Eren, like he was tall and broad and could topple mountains, because she knew he could. She believed in him.

“Can we not,” Eren begged quietly. “I’m tired and I can’t do this right now. Please, Isabel; drop it.”

Isabel wanted to hit something, preferably Eren’s dad until he dropped dead. “Okay,” she said, clipped but defeated. “I’ll drop it, I promise. Just- just promise me if he does hurt me you’ll leave.”

Eren made a small noise, echoed slightly by Levi, who was clenching his hands into fists. “I promise,” Eren said. This far apart, without being face to face with him, Isabel couldn’t tell if he was lying. She hoped he wasn’t, but she made a mental note to tweet Armin or text Mikasa to double check on Eren later.

“Okay,” Isabel said. She tried to ease back against the couch, but couldn’t quite unwind. She ended up hunching over as she pulled her knees up to her chest, nails dragging restlessly against the couch cushions as her gut swirled with forcibly cooling anger. Her voice was even as she said, “tell me, is witnessing Armin’s end of the Skype flirting even worse than witnessing Jean’s?”

“God,” Eren groaned, just as forcibly put upon sounding as she was forcibly calm. “It’s terrible; I honestly can’t tell if Armin’s flirting or not? He won’t fucking tell me anything and keeps claiming ‘oh I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be friends with your roommate, Eren’ like he doesn’t fucking know what I’m talking about-“

Eren’s rant about Armin’s evasion grew louder by the second, until Eren sounded tall and broad and echoing like a mountain top. The familiar sound eased the tension in her shoulders until she could slide sideways and wriggled back around on her back. Levi seemed to ease up as she did, the newspaper crinkling as she rolled to her back and lost sight of him. A second later a shadow loomed over her, Levi following, and he bent to press a silent kiss against her forehead before turning to leave the room. Her chest constricted as Eren raved about Armin’s deceptive deviousness and she closed her eyes as they started to sting.

She was very lucky to have the family she did, Isabel reflected, laying on the couch with the tree still unfinished as her best friend’s voice warm in her ear. As mismatched and strange as they were, she had a family who cared about her and wanted her to be happy. She just wished there was some way for her to give Eren that kind of feeling too.

“You okay,” Levi asked later, after Farlan picked them up and they all drove home. The holiday party was the next day, so that their other friends could spend Christmas Eve and Christmas with their families. Erwin, Mike, and Hanji were in the same sort of boat as they were, no real family to speak of, so they usually spent the holiday together, lazily cleaning up the mess from the big party and eating all the leftover cookies until they felt sick.

Isabel sighed and slumped sideways on the couch, until her head was pillowed on her brother’s leg. His hand came up, dragging through her hair with ease, and she turned her face against his jeans with a lump in her throat. Her hands were still clenched around her cell phone.

“Yeah,” she said eventually. Farlan was grilling up sandwiches, the sound of his muttering and the sizzle of the frying pan comforting in the background. Levi hummed in response, clearing his throat quietly as she curled closer.

“Is your friend okay,” Levi asked, even more quietly than before. Isabel swallowed at that question, chest clenching as her heart spiked with worry.

“I think so,” she whispered. “His dad isn’t really good, you know? But he says he’s fine…”

Levi’s hand was gentle in her hair, a reassuring motion that eased some of the tension in her shoulders. “Is he alone,” Levi asked. Isabel shook her head, fingers twitching around her phone.

“His sister’s there,” Isabel said. Levi’s fingers brushed her ear as Farlan opened the fridge in the kitchen, the hitch-click of the door muffling his low voice even more. Isabel thought he might be singing but she wasn’t sure.

“Well,” Levi said, coaxing Isabel to roll over, so that she was lying on her back, legs stretched out, head cushioned on Levi’s thigh. He was bent over her to talk to her, smiling a little sadly in the corner of his mouth. “His sister will take care of him, won’t she?”

Isabel swallowed. She didn’t know Mikasa outside the few texts they’d exchanged, not well enough to answer yes without pause. But what she knew of the dark haired girl she’d seen in pictures, she had liked. Mikasa reminded her of Levi, a little, in the way Eren had talked about her; sensible, quiet, a little overbearing, but above all caring. Isabel groaned, fingers loosening around her phone until it was just sitting on her stomach, quiet. Eren hadn’t texted her back in a little while, not since they’d left Erwin’s. Last she heard he was still at Armin’s, playing Minecraft online with Jean with and one of his younger cousins.

“Yeah,” she sighed quietly, blinking slowly as Farlan wobbled into the living room carrying three plates, three cans of soda tucked into his elbow. He looked ridiculous, face contorted with concentration, eyebrows furrowed and lip pursed. Her heart lurched, just a little, at the sight, which only got worse when he glanced up and grinned at her, blue eyes glimmering and warm.

“You excited about the party tomorrow,” Farlan asked, slumping down to sit cross legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. He dropped the plates first, nudging Levi and Isabel’s toward them, and then pulled the two cans of Coke and single can of Dr. Pepper out from under his elbow. He reached over to hand the Dr. Pepper to Isabel as she sat up, sliding off the couch to mimic his position. Levi followed her with a groan, elbow knocking good naturedly into her side as he wiped his Coke from Farlan’s side of the table.

“Hell yeah I am,” Isabel said, only faking her excitement a little. “You’re going down this year for sure!”

“As if,” Farlan snorted, scrunching his nose a little as he laughed. Isabel’s chest filled with warmth as Levi laughed as well, scooping up his sandwich at her side.

“Nah, you piece of shit, you’re going down for sure. Right, Levi?”

“You’re both going down,” Levi said easily as she reached for her plate as well. Her phone was still silent, but she was less worried about Eren now with Levi’s reassurance that he would be fine. She’d check on him again later and make sure to send him pictures from their party tomorrow, but for now, she’d trust he’d be fine.

Chapter Text

Eren woke up Christmas morning to his phone ringing, the pop song playing loud and familiar. He rolled over, slapping blindly at his bedside table, but in the end he had to sit up and open his eyes to find his phone. He caught it just as it was about to end, swiping to answer the call as he slid sideways on his bed, out from under the covers and into the cold air.

“’Lo,” he slurred, phone wedged between his ear and a pillow. “S’bel?”

“Good morning, Eren,” Isabel sang, loudly, right in his ear. He winced, curling down, trying to wriggle back under the blankets he was lying on and failing. “And Merry Christmas!”

Eren slurred a sound into the phone that could have passed as a swear, a polite response, or the mating call of a drugged wombat. It was about all he was capable of doing at the moment, the corner of his eyes crusty and his limbs still heavy and numb with the aftereffects of sleep. He burrowed his face against the pillow, feeling the phone sink down a few inches, and groaned, the noise low and long to show his displeasure with having been woken up.

“Oh come on, you big baby,” Isabel said cheerfully. “Get up, it’s Christmas!”

“No,” Eren said. He tipped his head to the side and hit the ‘end call’ button with his nose, catching a few blissful seconds of silence before his phone started to ring again. He had known Isabel would call him back almost instantly, but he just grinned, waking up a bit more as Isabel’s ringtone hurt his ear. He sat up, yawning as the phone continued to blast her pop song ringtone, dragging a hand through his hair as he froze, half-naked in his ice cold room. Eventually the phone fell silent, the call going to voicemail, but barely a second later it started again.

“Keep your fucking pants on,” Eren muttered to the phone as he scooped it up. He pulled one of the corners of the covers up, twisting them the wrong way around him as he re-cocooned himself and finally answered the call.

“I can’t believe you hung up on me on Christmas,” Isabel said. She was laughing, the sound like spring, warm and full of life. Eren laughed too, twisting his head to smother the sound against his blankets. “I’m demoting you for this, you know. Jean’s my new best friend.”

“Bullshit,” Eren protested. “If he was your fucking best friend you would’ve called him and let me sleep.”

“Hm,” Isabel hummed. “No. This call is punishment, so I can rub your demotion in your face and make you suffer.”

This time there was no muffling Eren’s laughter. It rang through his quiet room like a shot, bouncing off his walls and pinging against his window. He rolled, digging his feet further against the blankets as he tried to eek the last bit of warmth from his bed.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Eren mumbled, grinning. He rubbed absently at his eyes, getting the grit out of the corners. He snorted when Isabel only laughed harder, his chest constricting with affection.

“Merry Christmas, though, you fucking menace.”

The sound Isabel made could only be described as a purr, like a pleased little kitten. He laughed again, softer this time, angling his mouth away from the phone, embarrassed by the floaty feeling in his chest at the fact that Isabel had called him. Isabel’s voice went soft, maybe to match his, and for a minute they were quiet, the sound of his breathing mingling with Isabel’s static sigh.

“You okay,” Isabel asked, sweet and slow in his ear. Eren rolled his eyes and then rolled over, blankets tangling even further around his legs.

“I’m fine,” Eren groaned, rubbing his cheek against his sheets. “Dad’s at work today, so all we have to do is go to Armin’s, open presents, and have dinner. We’re probably just going to play video games all afternoon, the usual.”

Isabel didn’t say anything for a minute, but then she hummed softly for a second and sighed. “Okay,” she said. “When do you leave for Armin’s?”

Eren rolled over to look at his clock before remembering it had died while he was away at college. He pulled back his phone, squinting at the screen, which was brighter than his room, barely lit by the window, and then groaned.

“Isabel, what the fuck,” he swore. “It’s seven am!”

“Oh, is it,” Isabel asked, coy and fakely sweet. Like Splenda, Eren thought angrily; Isabel’s sugary personality was a lie. “I hadn’t noticed; my bad. But if you don’t have to go to Armin’s for a while you should get on Skype and open your present from me!”

“You’re a dirty motherfucker,” Eren growled, seeing through her ploy. “I could have slept until ten if you hadn’t called.” He paused, listening to Isabel huff, probably ready to protest her innocence, but Eren cut her off. “We can’t open presents without Jean on Skype too, remember? So you’re just shit outta luck, you brat.”

“I better wake up Jean then,” Isabel said. She hung up before Eren could say anything in response and with a shrug he dropped his phone and curled back down into his blanket. He was warm enough that he started to drift back to sleep, content in the knowledge that nothing short of an attack via giant space lizards was getting Jean up at this hour. However just as his dreams started to creep back and muddle with reality a sound rang through the room, droning and impossible to ignore.

The Skype call ringtone.

“Son of a bitch,” Eren swore. He poked his head out of his blanket burrito and glared at the laptop perched on the very end of his bed. It looked like it was about to fall off, if Eren was being honest, and for a second he hoped it would slide off the bed and break on the ground. At least then the noise would stop.

Eren sat up with a growl, flinging his blankets to the floor and scrambling at the laptop as it actually started to slide off the bed. He caught it just in time, tapping at his mousepad furiously to answer the call. His headphones were dangling off the edge of the bed and he wasn’t paying attention what he clicked on, so when he answered the call he couldn’t hear what was being said and he was the only one not on camera.

“Eren,” he heard faintly as he yanked at his headphones to get at the earpiece. “Turn your camera on right now or I swear to God-“

“Jesus Christ,” Eren groaned. “Isabel, I can hear you without the fucking earbuds in, so tone it the fuck down.”

Eren found one of the earbuds and shoved it in his ear, ducking his head to peek at the too bright computer screen as he did so. This is what I get for leaving my laptop on all night, he thought, but the agitation he felt at being kept from sleep was almost immediately washed away as a warm rush of affection made his chest tight. Jean was just barely visible in his frame, mostly a human being made up entirely of blankets, pillows, and a rather sullen glare. Isabel was scowling directly into her camera, rocking forward to squint so that her eye was the only thing Eren could see just for emphasis, to really convey her impatience.

“Eren, please,” Jean whined, the noise familiar even muffled and dragged across Skype to Eren’s ears. “The sooner you turn on your camera the sooner I can get back to sleep.”

“Don’t you have several under-tens in your house,” Eren asked, getting distracted as he tried to fight the blankets back up around his shoulders. God, it was fucking freezing. “Shouldn’t they have already rammed through your door, hog tied you, and dragged you under the tree by now?”

Jean’s grainy camera self twitched and he pulled his mouth away from a pillow long enough to smirk at Eren through the camera. “If the kids wake anyone up before nine, Santa Claus won’t come visit next year,” he explained, smug and sure in the knowledge that nothing could go wrong. Eren could only blink at him, wide eyed and utterly gob smacked while Isabel whistled lowly, impressed. Jean retracted back inside his blanket huddle almost immediately, the smuggest snail Eren had ever seen.

“Camera,” Isabel prompted impatiently, while Eren was still stuck on the thought of tricking children into letting you sleep in on Christmas. It was just- Eren couldn’t image it. Thank fuck his mother had never thought of that.

“Eren, turn on your fucking camera!”

“Oh my god,” Eren groaned, clicking at the button for the camera on Skype. It took a moment for his screen to turn from a spinning circle on top of his icon (a picture of a taco in a top hat which was Annie’s fault, not his) into his camera, but when it did he made sure he was ready for it.

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Isabel drawled sarcastically. Eren smiled at her from around his hand, angling his head in the camera so that his grin was just visible around his middle finger. Jean was laughing softly as Isabel rolled her eyes, his blankets shaking as his voice got louder and louder by the second.

“Pain in the ass,” Jean muttered, like he wasn’t laughing his ass off. Eren huffed as his put down his middle finger, scrunching down in his bed some to get more comfortable. The laptop made it hard, because to stay in view of the camera he had to hunch a little. He was tempted to flop back and let Isabel complain to her heart’s content, but he liked being able to see them both on his screen too much to do so.

“I know you are but what am I,” Eren muttered back. Someone snorted, but no one rose to the bait of acting like a fucking twelve year old with him. He huffed, rolling his eyes, slouching to give the camera a bored look. “Fine,” he said, “let’s do this.”

Isabel cheered, loud and unashamed. She was so loud Eren winced, half tempted to bury his head under pillows like that would help muffled the noise. Jean went ahead and put his head back under the pillows, groaning lowly until Isabel huffed, pointed but small.

“Alright, you lazy pricks. Where are your packages? If you don’t have them now, get them, ‘cause I’m not waiting any longer!”

“You’re so bossy,” Jean complained. Eren ducked beside his bed, leaning away from the screen, but he could still imagine Jean’s sour look as he peeked out from under his pillow to glower at his camera. “Eren, why do we keep her? She’s so bossy, and loud, and she woke me up on Christmas morning before nine.”

“You smell like shit, look like a horse, and once threw up in my favorite pair of shoes, but I still keep you,” Eren muttered quietly, distracted as he tried to reach for the two brown cardboard boxes by the foot of his bed without getting up. It wasn’t working out so well, which meant he was going to have to leave the safety of his warm blankets to reach them. Ugh, he thought, this sucks.

“You didn’t tell me those were your favorite shoes,” Jean murmured, barely heard as the earbud started to slip from Eren’s ear. Eren waved his hand at the screen and shrugged off his blankets, muttering that he’d be right back as he shoved the computer toward the wall and hunched over the side of the bed. The earbud fell out completely, but that was okay; it gave Eren the range of movement he needed to hook his nails into the edges of the bottom box and haul them both closer into his reach. When he sat back, boxes in tow, Isabel was twisted up over the laptop, leaning too close to the camera in her baggy sweater, and Jean couldn’t be seen for the two large boxes lying on top of him. Eren fished the earbud back out of the blanket folds and tucked it into his ear, ducking to peer at the screen as he one handedly tried to lever his blankets back up over his shoulders.

“Mhm, yeah,” Isabel was saying softly to someone behind the computer. “Yeah, Eren and Jean are up; we’re going to open the presents we sent each other now.”

“Why not just wait until you get back to campus? You could do it in person.”

Isabel’s huff was loud static, since she was closer to the mic than usual. It was also familiar, warm in Eren’s ears, and the sound crept around his heart and squeezed it with tingling fingers, making his throat tickle with a laugh. He swallowed, biting his tongue, and from Jean’s side he heard the barely muffled snort that was another familiar squeeze to Eren’s heart.

“You’d think you of all people would feel the Christmas spirit, big brother.”

There was the soft, muted sound of someone swirling a spoon in a coffee mug and a muffled scoff. “Very funny,” the voice said shortly. “Do you want me to fuck off so you can have privacy?”

Isabel dropped back into what was probably a kitchen chair with an obvious roll of her eyes. “Nah, you can stay,” she told her brother, shrugging so that the collar of the baggy t-shirt slid left on her shoulders, her slightly pixilated pale skin almost the same color as the wall behind her. “You’re gonna make breakfast, right?”

There was a faint hum in response and Isabel’s face lit, easy warm happiness like lamplight sweeping her cheeks. “Can we have French toast,” she asked, slouching forward, propping her elbows beside her laptop as she batted her eyelashes coyly at her brother. Eren rolled his eyes at the display while Jean muffled another snort, but Isabel must have gotten a nod because with a pleased little chirp she turned back to the laptop’s camera to address them.

“Levi says hi,” she said, like they couldn’t hear her brother, like that wasn’t obviously a lie. Eren couldn’t help but laugh, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Tell your shitty brother hello,” Eren muttered, talking over Jean’s you do remember we can hear him too, right? and grinning when Isabel rolled her eyes at him.

“Eren says hi,” Isabel relayed, shooting a smile toward wherever her brother was. If Levi said something in response it was too quiet to hear. Jean might have drowned it out, however, because he decided to finally sit up and the process of digging himself out of his cocoon of blankets apparently needed a sailor’s commentary to do so. Eren went ahead and reached over to his bedside table, fishing out an old pocket knife Hannes had given him as a teenager, so that he’d have a way to open the boxes in his lap. It was pointless to keep fighting the blanket around his shoulders, so he let that fall away as well and hooked his finger in the sleeve of an old sweatshirt on the floor and dragged that up so he could put it on. He left his earbud in as he did so, not caring how the cord pressed against bare skin since it was trapped under the sweatshirt.

“Alright, let’s do this shit,” Jean muttered, when he was hunched upright, bleary eyed but holding a pair of scissors like he knew what to do with them. Isabel squeaked her excitement, shouting me first, me first! as she grabbed one of boxes she’d apparently had one the floor. Eren hunched forward, playing with the old pocket knife in his hands as a shadow fell on the wall beside Isabel, a hand presenting her with a pair of scissors appearing in the camera’s view, there and gone.

“Thanks, Levi,” Isabel muttered, distracted, corner of her mouth curling up as she squinted at the box she had grabbed and then turning to peer back at the ground. “Okay,” she said, glancing back at the camera. “Whose am I opening first?”

“Mine,” Jean said quickly, trying to fake disinterest and not quite managing in his rush to be first. Eren snorted and let him have it without debate.

“Works for me, I grabbed yours anyway,” Isabel answered. In the background of her end of the call noises echoed out from the kitchen, the soft clink of pans, a fridge opening and closing. Eren’s stomach gurgled softly and he curled down and ignored it. Isabel attacked the box with her scissors in a flurry, bouncing in her seat in excitement and wriggling when she finally got it open. Eren glanced between her video and Jean’s, watching her eyes brighten as she pulled out three lumpily wrapped presents. Jean’s lips curled just so that Eren’s heart swelled, stupid affection for his two college friends clogging his throat.

“Okay, any specific order or can I go crazy?”

“Uh, open the- no, not that one, the other one- no- Isabel, the fucking big one!”

Isabel made a face before primly setting the two barely smaller packages aside, barely in the camera’s view. Jean hummed, fidgeting a little to prove he was nervous about the approval rating of the gift about to be opened, and Eren watched Isabel rip open the wrapping paper with hooded eyes.

“It’s- oh! You got me a new hoodie!”

Isabel shook the fabric from the crumpled, mostly torn wrapping paper and the bundle fell free, revealing a hood, two sleeves, and a white expanse of a body. The hood and the sleeves were dark blue, with the kind of red dusty roses that were on old lady furniture in dentist’s offices and old people’s retirement homes. There was a pouch in the front, white like the body of the hoodie, since it was a pullover instead of a zipper, and overall it was an interesting but not unpleasant on the eyes kind of hoodie.

“Do you, uh. Like it?”

Isabel pressed the hoodie up against her chest, modeling it for them against the backdrop of her dining room wall, and her grin was so wide thrill seekers could have died trying to jump motorbikes from one end to the other. It suited her, Eren thought absently; the dusty roses were the same red as her hair and the white was a nice contrast against the dark blue.

“I love it, it’s so cute,” she gushed, clutching it to her. She twisted, shaking the fabric a little off-screen, her face glowing as she squeaked, “Levi, look, Jean got me this cute hoodie!”

“Cute,” Levi echoed, just audible in the mics. Eren couldn’t figure out if he was questioning the statement or genuinely echoing the sediment, which irked him for some strange reason. He bit his lip as Isabel scrambled to put it on, taking the time to take her earbuds out of her ears and snuggle into the fabric, which turned out to be a bit baggy and big on her, before she replaced the headphones in her ears.

“Shit,” Jean swore quietly. “I got it too big; I knew I should have gotten you a small.”

“Shut the fuck up, it’s perfect,” Isabel denied. “It’s baggy and warm and soft and I love it.”

Jean’s pixilated face turned a little pink and he ducked his head, running both hands through his hair in agitation. “Glad you like it,” he muttered quietly and Eren bit his tongue on a laugh, because his roommate was embarrassed and it was hilarious and adorable. Isabel glanced into the camera, her smile quirking in a way Eren was sure if they’d all been in the same room that look would have been meant for him, a kind of our idiot, right? look that he tried to convey back through his camera.

“Okay, which one next,” Isabel asked, bouncing, arms wiggling so that the sleeves of her new hoodie fell over her fingers. Jean shrugged, muttering under his breath unintelligibly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just wanted you to open the hoodie first, so. Go crazy I guess?”

Isabel rolled her eyes and scooped up a vaguely box shaped package, which she proceeded to rip into with glee. A few seconds of flying paper bits later and she squeaked, clutching the small box that was under a rather unfortunate amount of lumpy wrapping paper to her chest. Eren could just make out the picture of something red and white between her fingers.

“It’s so cute,” Isabel gushed. “Levi, Levi! C’mere, I need to use this immediately!”

“Okay,” Eren said, “but what is it, I can’t see.”

Isabel shifted as her brother’s shadow fell over the wall once more and shook the box at the camera. It was a short, fat, round Pokeball coffee mug and Eren couldn’t help but grin at the sight, watching Isabel yank the top of the box open and scoop the mug out with a wiggle of her shoulders. It was a small mug, but it suited her and for a minute Eren flashed back to the girl in the alleyway, the curl of her lip as he looked at her with absolutely no idea how she would matter to him, calling him Gary.

“Can you see it now,” Isabel said, mostly taunt, and Eren rolled his eyes and mutter yeah, you brat, I can see it. Isabel then showed it off to her brother, who’s shadow on the wall shifted a little in a sway as she (probably) stuck the mug right in his face.

“Nice,” Isabel’s brother muttered, his voice louder than ever before. Eren still couldn’t see him and the curiosity itched a little, but he smothered it as a hand took the mug from Isabel and the shadow along the wall behind her left.

“Alright, last one,” Isabel declared, scooping up the package that was the most awkwardly wrapped and lumpy, even more so than the hoodie had been. Eren glanced at Jean, who was slumped, elbows on his knees, face still faintly pink, and then dragged his eyes to Isabel again once she started ripping the paper, flinging little scrap of it everywhere. This time he was able to figure out what it was before Isabel screamed, though it was close; a split second before she made a strangled, unholy noise like a woman possessed Eren went oh, good one in his head.

“You bought me Ash Ketchum’s hat,” Isabel shrieked, shaking the familiar red, white, and green snapback at the camera with gusto. Jean shrugged, looking pleased but still slightly self conscious at the reaction, and Eren laughed, ducking his head.

“Really, Jean,” he muttered. “Two Pokemon presents?”

“What,” Jean hissed back, defensive faster than Eren would have thought possible. He must have been really worried about his choice of presents. “Isabel likes Pokemon! And you refused to text me back when I was shopping for shit.”

“I was busy,” Eren defended. He hadn’t been busy, if he remembered correctly; he was pretty sure Jean had texted him when he was napping on the couch with Annie sitting curled up across his legs. She hadn’t woken him up when his phone buzzed, so he hadn’t known about the twelve text messages Jean had sent him until much, much later.

“Hush! I love it; it’s perfect,” Isabel said. She was already wearing it when Eren glanced over at her side of the screen, her red pigtails sticking out childishly and her bangs brushed haphazardly out of her eyes. The hat, tucked almost so low of Isabel’s eyes he couldn’t see them for the shadow, clashed a little bit with the dark blue hood and sleeves of her hoodie, but he had to admit, the hat was a good look for her.

“Uh, I’m, um. Glad,” Jean said, every so smoothly. Eren didn’t laugh, but only just barely.

“Thank you so much Jean, I love them! I’m gonna wear this hat all day, oh my god, I can’t wait to show Farlan!”

“You’ll be waiting another five hours or so,” Isabel’s brother called out, just loud enough to be heard. “He told me that if I let you wake him up before noon he’s going to personally ship you off to Mars.”

Isabel huffed, cross her arms and sticking out her lower lip. “What a Grinch,” Isabel complained, rolling her eyes and slumping forward onto the table on her elbows. Eren hummed and Jean muttered back something unkind about Isabel being a child that Isabel, thankfully, seemed to either miss or ignore.

“C’mon, Iz,” Eren said, rubbing at the corner of his eyes again. He was starting to feel the pull of sleep once more, tugging at the base of his skull in the form of a looming headache. He needed another three hours and a cup of coffee, but he didn’t want to get up and he wasn’t going to miss present opening for the world. Isabel turned her attention back to him and he grinned at her, looming a little closer to his camera feed and absently watching on his screen at the lag in his movements. “It’s time for you to open my presents.”

“Wait, I thought you were gonna open mine after Isabel did,” Jean interjected. Eren tipped his head, directing his attention to his roommate, and Isabel’s camera feed did the same. “Like, Isabel opens the ones I got her, you open the ones I got you, I open the ones Isabel got me, you open the ones Isabel got you, and, like, then Isabel and I open the ones you got us. I thought that’s what we were doing. That’s how we open presents over here.”

“Well, I guess we could do that,” Eren said, a little disappointed. Considering what he’d shipped out to Isabel as her present he was kind of anxious to have her open it up, get it all over with already, but he had to admit he was a little curious about what Jean had sent him. He glanced at Isabel and she shrugged, moving her hands around in useless little circles to show she didn’t care.

“Alright, I’ll open yours then,” he muttered, craning his head to read the sender address on the packages next to him. He grabbed Jean’s, the smaller box, and pulled it into his lap, cutting the tape with his pocket knife and then tossing the box away when he’d pulled out the three lumpily wrapped presents. One looked like it was about the same size as Isabel’s hoodie had been and it felt soft when he picked it up, but the other two were hard, one more box shaped than the other, and he hefted them toward the screen with raised eyebrows.

“Open the big one,” Jean instructed and Eren set the other two aside, knocking into the more vaguely box shaped one with his elbow. He ripped into the wrapping paper without a word, tearing it in two and shoving the trash to the end of his bed. In his hands was a green hoodie, forest and dark, and he shook it out with a small grin. It was a pull over, with a pouch like Isabel’s, but his had no flowers or anything of the sort; instead on his, in big bold white letters, it read FUCKU, spelled out using elements from the periodic table.

“Dude,” Eren laughed, feeling his nose scrunch up and his shoulders shake a little bit. He shook his head, bangs dancing over his forehead as he curled his fingers against the soft, warm material that he was already itching to wear. Isabel was saying something, laughter warm in her voice too, but Eren wasn’t really focusing on her just then. He looked up, ducking his head to peer at his roommate through the Skype camera feed, and grinned, cheeks hurting a little with how wide it is.

“I’m gonna wear this to my fucking grave,” he promised quietly. Jean grinned back, ducking his chin a little, eyes bright as he ran a hand through his hair in a bluff of tough guy disinterest.

“As long as it keeps you outta my hoodie stash,” Jean said, mock annoyed, and Eren shook his head and pulled his new hoodie on, over the headphone cord and his old thin-ish sweatshirt. He was more than warm then, though his toes were still freezing wedged under his leg, but he liked it.

“Nothing will keep us out of your hoodie stash,” Eren promised sincerely. “The second we get back Isabel’s going to steal my hoodie, I’m going to steal the one Armin got you, and you’re going to be stuck with the one you bought for Isabel, dude. Live with it.”

Jean’s face crumpled, annoyance a flash of light in his eyes, before they both seemed to realize there was something out of place in that sentence. Eren bit his tongue and winced, shoulders hunching up to his ears as Jean hissed, “Armin got me a fucking hoodie?!”

“Shit,” Eren muttered. Isabel was howling on her end, head on her arms on the table with her shoulders shaking. Armin was going to kill him. “Uh, no. No he’s not, he’s getting you a, um. Cheese grater.”

“Cheese grater,” Isabel echoed, wheezing, practically hysterical with amusement. Eren threw his hands up in the air and groaned.

“What kind of hoodie did-“

“No, nope, not happening,” Eren interjected. “If you want me to live to see you guys again you’re going to shut the fuck up and put on your best surprised face when Armin skypes you later to open the dumb presents you two sent each other behind my back because if you don’t he will kill me.”

Jean made a face, but seemed to subside, mumbling to himself and twitching a little, cheeks pink as fuck. Eren tried not to be equal parts endeared and disturbed by that, but it was hard. “Fine,” Jean bit out. “Open your other presents, you asshole, so we can get on with this.”

Jean’s other two presents turned out to be the same sort of thing as he had gotten Isabel; a mug shaped like R2D2 and a Batman snapback with galaxy print for the bat logo and on the brim of the hat. Eren shoved the hat on his head the second he opened it and Jean took a minute to announce that they both looked just as ridiculous and dumb as he had hoped in their gifts. Isabel protested, saying now Jean needed a dumb snapback to match them, and Eren agreed, keeping to himself the information that Armin had gotten Jean a “get a life” green Mario mushroom snapback as well. He figured he had already spoiled enough secrets and either way Jean would find out soon enough.

“Alright, who’s next,” Eren asked, sincerely hoping it was him. He wanted Isabel to open her damn present already; he hadn’t been so worried about it at first, but the longer the call dragged on the more nervous about the whole thing he became.

“Open mine,” Isabel yelped, not even bothering to hide her enthusiasm the way Jean had. Eren bit his lip on a sigh, shrugging to show he didn’t care, and Jean nodded, shifting to grab the last box at his side.

“You wanna go first or…?”

“Why not,” Eren muttered. He reached over, snagging Isabel’s box, and hauled it into his lap to open with the pocket knife he’d left lying open at his side. Once the box was open he tossed the open knife back at his side, pulling out the four neatly wrapped packages, none of which were very easy to guess. Two of there were small, barely the size of his palm, and square like jewelry boxes, but the other two were larger, more rectangle than square. “Alright, Izzy-bell,” he muttered, grinning a little because her wrapping paper was holiday Batman wrapping paper and it was cute. “Which one first?”

“There’s one with a star scribbled on it, one of the small ones. Don’t open that one until Jean opens his, but other than that, you’re good to just. Go for it.”

Eren grabbed the flatter of the rectangular boxes, hefting it up so that the camera could see. Isabel nodded, a shadow falling over her and lingering for a second, but Eren only noticed that out of the corner of his eyes. He pulled off the wrapping paper in the same way as before, ripping it neatly in two and sliding it off the box before kicking the trash down to the end of his bed. The box that was revealed was a set for stationary, letter writing paper and envelopes and even a pen. It looked a little fancy, with a ribbon tying the box closed and curling letters on the label, and just in the corners of the paper Eren could see there were little stars sketched, decorating the pages.

“What is it,” Jean asked, curious but not impatient. Eren hefted the box toward the camera, tilting it, his chest a little tight as he tried to breathe around the affection flooding him.

“It’s a stationary set,” he mumbled, embarrassed a little by the intensity of his reaction. He’d mentioned in passing that he’d thought about writing letters to Armin and Mikasa sometimes, but hadn’t gone through with it because the idea seemed silly. Isabel, apparently, thought differently.

“I could’ve gotten you a Hello Kitty set, but Levi thought you might like something a little less girly,” Isabel said, offhand enough that Eren wondered how long she’s stood in the store, debating what to get him. He tried to clear his throat and almost choked, fingers clenching around the box in his hand as he fought to get himself under control.

“I love it,” he muttered, laughing a little bit at himself. “But I would’ve loved the Hello Kitty one too, for future reference.”

“Noted,” Isabel answered, softer than before, and Eren glanced up, feeling a connection with her despite their distance apart. He grinned weakly into the camera and she did the same, ducking her head and shifting to look up at her brother off camera when he glanced away to run a hand through his hair.

“Alright,” he said, clearing his throat. Jean made an affectionate noise of disgust at Eren’s audible noise of emotion and Eren rolled his eyes back, picking up the slightly wider but not as long rectangular package. Isabel didn’t protest when he held it up, so he unwrapped it, revealing a plain thin cardboard box. Isabel squeaked, but when he glanced up at her she was curled around her new mug, which was steaming faintly. The shadow on the wall behind here was still there, but Eren just raised an eyebrow as he pried open the top of the thin cardboard box before looking down to see what it is.

“Huh,” he said.

It was a single, small, black walkie-talkie.

“I, uh, didn’t think to get one for Jean,” Isabel said, quickly, like she could tell there was a loud buzzing noise behind his ears. Static in his ears for a walkie-talkie present, how fitting. “Sorry, Jean. But I thought, you know, we could. Use them. On campus and stuff. It’s a stupid idea, sorry, I just-“

“You have the other one, right,” Eren interrupted. He lifted it out of the box, holding it loosely in the palm of his hand so Jean could see what they were talking about. Jean muttered is that a walkie-talkie very softly, looking bemused, while Isabel hunched behind her Pokeball coffee mug and nodded.

“It’s, um. In my bag,” Isabel admitted quietly. Eren hummed, curling his fingers slightly around the little plastic device. His throat felt tight, like his heart had crawled up into it and settled there, making it difficult to breathe, to swallow, to speak.

“We’re gonna have to make up cool call signs when we get back to school,” Eren said, curling his fingers tightly around the walkie-talkie, the edge of his sleeve falling to cover it from sight. He tucked it into the front pouch pocket of his new hoodie as Isabel glanced up at her camera, beaming shyly, cheeks almost as dusty rose as the flowers on her new hoodie.

“Hell yeah we are,” Isabel muttered. Jean did his best to not look too fond at them and failed.

“Jesus Christ, you two, knock it off,” Jean muttered. “You’re giving me cavities, I’m going to be sick. Can I open my damn presents now? Honestly.”

“Jean-bean, don’t be such a drama queen,” Eren muttered, mispronouncing his roommate’s name on purpose. Jean twitched, cheeks scarlet with indignation, and Eren grinned so wide his face stung. “I still have one more present to go, you ass.”

“Then get to it, Eren-bear,” Jean taunted. Silence rang, for only a second, and Eren thought briefly oh come on.

“Eren-bear,” Isabel hissed, looking delighted. “Fucking Eren-bear?!”

“What the fuck is an Eren-bear,” Isabel’s brother muttered quietly, closer than Eren expected. He twitched at the sound, squinting at the screen where the shadow on Isabel’s feed was.

“It’s Jean’s nickname for Eren,” Isabel informed him, glancing up and ignoring Eren’s sputtered denials. Eren flipped the camera off and Jean snorted, making a you brought this upon yourself face to show he had no shame.

“Is it supposed to rhyme? Because it doesn’t.”

“Tell your ass of a brother I’m aware it doesn’t rhyme. Jean’s not very good at making up nicknames when he’s sloshed ten ways to Sunday.”

Isabel ignored Eren’s statement, to his annoyance. He didn’t like not being able to defend himself against the judgment in her brother’s tone and he shifted, agitated, and reached down to pick up the small box that didn’t have the star scribbled on it in ball point pen. He ripped at the paper covering it without pausing to wait for Isabel to pay attention to him again, tossing the wrapping paper away with a huff that he choked on when he realized what he was holding.

“Tada,” Isabel cheered, laughing loudly at the end of the word. Eren made a face, trying to keep from laughing himself.

“Really, Izzy-bel,” he muttered, ripping apart the back holding the sweatband in place. What were they, punk little middle schoolers? Jesus Christ. “A Team Rocket sweatband?”

Isabel’s smirk was curved and wicked as she recited, “prepare for trouble, Eren,” with bright, glittering green eyes. He snorted, feeling his own lips tug into a small smirk in response.

“And make it double, Isabel,” he answered. Isabel squirmed, obviously pleased, but Jean couldn’t stay quiet.

“Please tell me this doesn’t make me Meowth,” Jean begged, looking disgusted and horrified, mouth twisted up sourly. Eren laughed at the mental image of Jean in a big white cat onesie and filed the thought away for next Halloween, to see if he could suggest Team Rocket as their costume theme then.

“Aw, c’mon,” Isabel cooed at Jean, waggling her eyebrows as expressively as she could. She wasn’t as good at it as Eren was, which she yelled at him a lot for something. “Don’t you wanna be our little kitty partner in crime?”

“You’ve got some weird ass friends,” Isabel’s brother muttered, voice loud but fading away as his sentence went on. The shadow behind Isabel vanished and the distant noises in the kitchen resumed after a few seconds. Eren settled on his bed, appeased a little that the stranger was now gone.

“That’s rich coming from you, Levi,” Isabel tossed back easily, rolling her eyes at the camera to share this moment with Eren and Jean. Eren snorted, grinning a bit as he slipped on the Team Rocket wristband despite his protests.

“My turn,” Jean interrupted before Isabel and her brother could start an argument. Eren waved his hand at the camera, a silent get on with it, and Jean did so, opening his brown shipping package to pull out three presents, one the same size as Eren’s scribbled star present and the other two larger, but not by much. Jean ripped into the largest without a word, flinging wrapping paper over his shoulder, and with an affectionate noise of surprise he held up a keychain with the Flamel symbol from Fullmetal Alchemist.

“I saw it and thought of you, you fucking nerd,” Isabel said proudly. Jean looked vaguely misty eyed, clutching the keychain to his chest.

“I’m going to put this on my bag immediately,” he said. He then tossed it somewhere off-screen with the most careless motion, probably, if Eren knew Jean, in the vaguest direction of his bag. Isabel looked faintly offended for a second before rolling her eyes and Jean hefted up the next biggest, ripping it open with the same careless energy as before. Eren knew what this present was, because Isabel had coordinated this with him, so he took a minute to study Jean as he flipped the thing over in his palm, studying it with a varying line of pixelated emotions playing over his face.

“Huh,” Jean said, much like Eren had with the walkie-talkie. He glanced up then, face contorted in confusion and emotion. “You do realize I don’t smoke right?”

Isabel blew her bangs out of her face ineffectively, her new hat trapping her hair partially in her eyes. “There are other uses for a lighter, you idiot,” she argued, fondly, softly. Eren knew it was engraved with Jean’s initials, which Eren had texted Isabel two weeks before.

Jean made a show of huffing, but unlike the previous present he put it carefully on his leg, just in the camera’s sight, and his fingers brushed the metal side carefully, slowly. He cleared his throat, still trying to play tough, and Eren hid his grin, reaching for the scribbled star present now.

“We doing this at the same time,” Eren asked, directing the question at Isabel and Jean alike. Isabel shouted yes and Jean made a face that was supposed to be mocking but just looked excited. “On three?”

“Yes, but I’m counting,” Isabel interjected. Eren was the one to make the face this time, but he let her have it with a little wiggle of his shoulders. She beamed at him through the camera like he was a trained mutt and Eren was half tempted to respond woof just to make himself laugh. He didn’t though and with a big theatrical breath Isabel started her count.

“Three- two- one- go!”

Eren ripped the paper off his present with a little more disregard than before, tossing the paper away to reveal the small black velvet jewelry box. He glanced up, noticing Jean was holding a box identical to his, and so Eren ducked his head and popped the lid on the box to reveal what’s inside.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick,” Jean swore, sounding strangled. “You got us fucking friendship bracelets?!”
Eren swallowed back a choked laugh, his chest constricting as the choked laugh turned into a real choke, his throat closing over as he fell to the size. He wheezed a little as Jean’s voice arched higher, the horseface shrieking that this is why we don’t befriend girls like he was a shithead sixth grader or something.

(It would have been pointless to bring up the homemade bracelets Annie and Mikasa had made him the summer before senior year, when they’d spent a lot of time braiding colorful string and pretending they weren’t making out when Eren wasn’t looking. He’d worn those bracelets for six months, mostly because they had been tied too tightly around his wrist for him to take off. Annie hadn’t apparently noticed he’d been wearing the things since she’d tied to his wrist and had laughed her ass off, grabbing his wrist and cutting them off with a pocket knife before placing them delicately in his palm.

“You’re such a sap,” Annie had said, grinning up at him. Eren had sputtered, slightly offended, and Annie had run her hands through his hair as she wobbled on her tip toes to be able to reach.

“It’s okay,” she had said, smirking a bit. “You’re our sap.”

As his revenge Eren hadn’t told her about the smear of rosy lipstick on her collarbone that Mikasa had left there. They’d gone to dinner with their friends and she hadn’t found out about it until halfway through six large pizzas.

Ah, sweet, pepperoni topped revenge.)

While Jean was still trying to protest that he was Manly and Did Not Need A Girly Friendship Bracelet, Eren pulled his out of the box. It was silver, with thin delicate chain, and at the end opposite the clasp there were two charms. One was a small solid rectangle with the word best scrawled on it in looping black letters. The other charm cutesy yellow and orange sun charm, with a little smile and big adorable eyes. Eren picked it out of the box carefully, realizing it wasn’t a bracelet but a necklace. Eren unhooked the clasp and quietly clipped it on around his neck, fingers fumbling only once before he got it done. It fell a little tight, meant probably for pre-teen girls and not college age men, but Eren liked the way the charm shifted against the edge of his collarbone when Eren rolled his shoulders. Jean’s shouting cut off suddenly and the lack of noise made Eren glance up, fingers curling absently and gentling around his new necklace.

“Uh,” he said, when he found Isabel and Jean both gaping at him a little. “Hi?”

“Jesus, Jaeger, do you have to be such a fucking sap,” Jean complained. Eren bristled, but Jean ducked his head and fumbled around with the clasp on his own necklace. Isabel looked teary eyed, covering her mouth to hide her smile, and Eren couldn’t help but huff quietly, rolling his eyes at all the dramatics going on.

“I’ve got one too,” Isabel said, pulling a chain out from under her collar and leaning close to the camera. It was a small sparkling yellow star charm, with an equally cute face as Eren’s sun, and Eren glanced expectantly at Jean to see what his charm was. There was a silver, cute faced moon resting against Jean’s collarbone as he leaned, lightning fast, toward the camera and then away. His face was pink and his eyes were bright, but Eren knew Jean wouldn’t have put on the necklace if he didn’t like it.

“Best friends forever,” Eren muttered, glancing down at the charm he could barely see as his fingers traced the sun’s dull triangle points. Isabel made a soft sound while Jean tried to gag.

“Forever and ever, you sappy motherfuckers,” Isabel hummed. “You put on the necklaces and you’re stuck with me now.”

“Darn,” Eren teased. “And Jean here was still hoping to return you back to the store for the latest model.”

“Don’t even joke, you two, I’m at my limit. I’m literally throwing up in my mouth, please,” Jean whined. He sounded as miserable, which was a neat trick considering Eren could still see the upward curl of Jean’s lips in between the fingers covering his face.

“Well,” Eren said slowly, absolutely taunting Jean now. “If you’re at your limit, Jean-bo.”

Jean twitched at the name, but before he could snap back Isabel hopped on the train with a grin, hunching closer to her laptop with glee.

“Yeah, Jean-bon,” she purred, “if you’re at your limit. We wouldn’t want to make you cry or nothing, since you’re so delicate.”

(Eren wanted a fucking camera on Isabel’s brother, so bad. There was just something about the way the guy muttered, “what the absolute fuck? Jean-bon?” quietly in the background made Eren itch to see his face. He’d never taken much interest in finding out what this guy looked like, even though he knew the guy’s Instagram handle. Maybe he was still touchy about the shitshow of Isabel’s Christmas break pick-up from school, but he hadn’t spent much time thinking about her older brother.

But now. Now it was different. He wanted to see this guy realize he had no fucking idea what his sister was talking about because it sounded like he was making an expression to remember fondly.

Yeah. He was still a little touchy apparently.)

“My presents,” Eren interrupted, when Jean looked like he was winding up for a name-calling spat that would last at least an hour. Jean scrunched his nose at him and Eren gestured at the camera, arching his eyebrows at his friends. “Please open my presents now so that I can return to dreamland?”

“Oh,” Jean muttered. “Right.” Then, without pause, Jean cut open the box and dumped the two presents in there out onto his lap. Isabel made a loud noise of protest and Eren was tempted to join her, but when Jean looked up Eren rolled his eyes and waved him on. Skype glitched, everything freezing for a second before jumping forward, and by the time the audio and video caught up Jean had half of the larger present unwrapped already.

“Dude, I fucking love Blazing Saddles,” Jean murmured, touched, glancing up fondly at his camera. Eren rolled his eyes, biting his tongue on a horse related comment and knowing without looking at her little box screen that Isabel was doing the same.

“I know,” Eren said dryly. “That’s why I bought it for you, Jean.”

“Thanks,” Jean said sincerely. “We can watch it when we get back together, right?”

“Sure,” Isabel agreed, shrugging. “I’ve never actually seen it, but from what Eren told me it sounds fun!”

“What sounds fun,” Isabel’s brother asked faintly. She leaned away, peering at him off camera, and Eren rolled his eyes at Jean while the idiot flipped the DVD case over in his hands and stared down at it fondly.

“Blazing Saddles,” Isabel answered. “Eren got it for Jean for Christmas.”

Isabel’s brother hummed, muttered something Eren couldn’t hear, and then she leaned back, hunching forward into the camera.

“Jean, open your other gift from Eren so I can open mine,” she instructed. Eren had to agree; he was dying for Isabel to open hers.

“Jesus, okay, keep your fucking hat on, woman,” Jean griped. He hefted up the other present and ripped the wrapping paper from it in chunks, until he was only holding pocket knife’s case in the palm of his hand. He made a face before forcing himself to make gagging noises to hide how he placed the knife very carefully next to his new lighter.

“You’re both terrible,” Jean declared and Eren grinned, pleased that their matching gifts had made him emotional. Jean rubbed furiously at his nose, sniffing loudly and looking anywhere but them for a minute. Eren mock high fived the camera and Isabel did the same with a little giggle, which made Jean laugh softly. “God, just kill me. Isabel open your fucking presents already so we can be done with this.”

Oh god, Eren thought, which was silly. There was no way she’d know from just a glance. But his stomach twisted into knots regardless and he watched with bated breath as Isabel hauled up the brown cardboard box he’d shipped to her, big enough that she had to scoot back her chair a little until it banged into the wall behind her. She cut it open with her scissors and then tossed them away, letting them clatter against the table behind the laptop without a care.

“Any particular package first,” Isabel asked, humming a little as she eyed the contents of the box. Eren swallowed.

“There’s two in blue,” Eren said, “and two in red. As long as you open the big blue one before the smaller blue one, it doesn’t matter.”

He hadn’t meant to coordinate it that way, but he’d run out of blue paper and used the red paper when that had happened. It had worked out pretty neatly and Jean made noises like he was envious of the smart decision, so Eren didn’t bother to explain.

“I’m gonna save the blue for last then,” Isabel said. She hefted up the red packages, both of which were about the side of her palm. She opened the flatter of the two first, dropping the other on the table by her elbow, and she tore open the package without a pause.

“Stickers,” she shrieked in delight. There were seven packs from the store two town over, all from different animes and cartoons that Isabel was into. He’d gotten two different Sailor Moon packages, just because he knew how much she loved the original and the reboot, and for a minute his worry about her other gift slipped away as she leafed through the packs and squeaked. The shadow fell over her again and she twisted to show her brother the stickers, beaming as wide as she could.

“I fucking love stickers,” Isabel said. Eren couldn’t help but laugh at that a little.

“I know, babe,” he said, shaking his head. His hair ghosted across his forehead, almost in his eyes. He probably could use a haircut. “S’why I got them for you, you know.”

“Oh hush,” Isabel laughed. “They’re perfect, I’m going to stick them to everything.”

“No, you’re going to want to stick them everything but get really attached and emotional and not,” Jean argued. Isabel sent him a glare, huffing pointedly as she placed the stickers aside and picked up the other package. She ripped into that one as well and made the same soft of high pitched noise of joy, which mostly muffled the soft oh my god, Iz, please her brother made in the background.

“It’s a phone charm,” Isabel shrieked happily. She turned it and shook it at the camera, either showing it to Jean or trying to remind Eren what he got her. He snorted while Jean griped t her to stop shaking it so much because he couldn’t see it clearly.

“It’s a Hello Kitty phone charm,” Eren explained as Isabel turned to show her brother before violently ripping into the packaging. “It’s got a dust plug, to go in the audio jack on her phone. It’s the little cat sitting in a donut.”

“Oh,” Jean said. “Shit, like that you’d think she won the lotto or something, shit. Calm down, girl, it’s a damn phone charm.”

“It’s so cute though,” Isabel defended. She whirled around, shaking her phone at the camera so wildly the phone charm knocked her audibly in the knuckles. She winced and stopped that, rubbing banefully at her hand while still grinning like a maniac over her present. Eren found it hard to swallow for a second.

“I’m glad you like it,” he muttered. He didn’t tact on the and I hope you like your last present too because the key to pretending like this didn’t matter was not saying weird shit at odd times. Isabel studied her phone charm for a couple more seconds, whispering quietly about how cute it was and how it was a chocolate donut, oh my god, Eren! and Eren was glad, honestly he was, that she liked her present. But the tension was killing him.

“Big one first,” he said, as casually as he could. “Don’t forget.”

“Hm? Oh, oh right, sorry,” Isabel laughed. She put her phone down and then went ahead and took the packaging box out of her lap, pulling out the last two presents. She put the smaller on in her lap and then, with a ripping sound Eren could feel like static all the way down his spine, she opened the bigger box.

Isabel’s face stopped so suddenly Eren thought for a second Skype had frozen. He swallowed, her name on the tip of his tongue, but she shuddered a little bit before he could speak and blinked, slow like a dream.

“Eren,” she asked, confused. Eren swallowed roughly and Jean, for once, remained silent.

“I, uh. Found it at a pawn shop,” Eren said, voice as smooth and confident as he could make it. “And it was pretty cheap, so I. Got it for you.”

Isabel’s face twitched, some emotion Eren couldn’t place there and gone. He figured it must have been easier to pick apart in person, because her brother’s voice got closer, like he was hunching over her but still taking care to stay out of sight.

(Prick.)

“Izzy,” he said, “what is it?”

“It’s- it’s a Polaroid camera,” Isabel whispered. Her voice was thick and emotional and with a pang Eren’s chest tightened. He wondered if she was remembering that fucking conversation in the mall. He hoped she wasn’t. “Like, a really old one. It’s- Eren got it for me.”

There was a hum. Jean looked at Eren through his camera and Eren avoided his eyes. He hadn’t told Jean what he was getting Isabel, hadn’t mentioned the camera but he was suddenly worried Armin might have. Not that Armin would rat him out, but sometimes Armin forgot. It wouldn’t have been the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. It was okay, though; even if Jean knew, he wouldn’t say. It was a Bro Thing, or something.

“That was nice of him,” Isabel’s brother said quietly. “You mentioned you wanted to look into photography at the Christmas party.”

Isabel’s laugh was watery and thin but still warm and beautiful. Her lips quirked in a smile as she glanced up into the camera, clutching the old camera’s box to her chest.

“I did, yeah,” she muttered, looking proud of herself. Eren was proud of her too, for mentioning to her brother what she was interested in. He was vaguely proud of her brother too, for not appearing to be a dick about it. Having a supporting family must be nice.

“Eren,” Isabel added quietly. Eren looked at her, really looked at her, but his throat closed over before he could speak. He couldn’t help it; he thought he could handle the sight of her clutching his mom’s old Polaroid camera to her chest like it was the dearest thing in her life, but there was too much going on in his head. His eyes burned with tears he hoped they couldn’t see as he forced a smile.

“Isabel,” he mocked back, to cover what he was feeling. She huffed a little laugh, this one slightly less watery than the last, and sighed. Then she drew her knees up to her chest on the chair, tucked the camera’s old falling apart box in between her chest and her knees, and then tapped the other present, looking fond.

“Is this film,” she asked quietly. Eren nodded and with a shake of her head Isabel sniffed loudly and then, gesturing vaguely to her brother off camera, sighed.

“I’m going to get you back for this when your birthday comes around,” she threatened. Eren held up his hands, trying to look chastised, and didn’t manage it completely.

“Whatever you say, princess,” Eren muttered. He cleared his throat as discreetly as possible and Jean opened his mouth, probably to tease them both for having emotions, when suddenly there was a loud bang from Jean’s end and a voice shouted, childish and loud.

“Jean’s awake already,” the voice declared. Jean turned pale, like he’d already followed the light into the Other Side and come back as a ghost. The Ghost of Christmas Present, Eren thought with a snicker.

“No, no no no, no, don’t you fu-dging,” Jean tried to protest, but he failed. The children swarmed him, making his video feed a tangle of limbs and loud noises that nearly made Eren pull out his headphones. Jean signed off shortly after that, since the ruckus they had made apparently woke the entire household, and Isabel followed suit, apparently content to help her brother with breakfast.

“Text me later,” Isabel said, just before the Skype screen closed out and Eren was left alone. She had shaken her phone at him, Hello Kitty charm swinging, and Eren had grinned and promised her he would. His chest felt hollow as the silence rung throughout his room and then, with a sigh, he turned toward his small dragon hoard of presents and the mess of wrapped paper scattered across his bed. He fished the knife out, closed it, and then, after detangling his headphone cord from under his sweatshirt and pullover, got to work cleaning up.

“Well,” Eren said after that was done. He picked up the box from Jean, that had his new coffee mug, and reached for his phone as an after-thought, putting that inside his new hoodie. Isabel’s necklace knocked gently against his throat as he stood and the hat was still on his head. When he rolled his wrist he could feel the Team Rocket sweatband, just too tight to where it was cutting off his circulation, but he didn't want to take it off just yet. He probably looked ridiculous, he thought absently as he felt his phone shift against the walkie-talkie in his hoodie pocket. Ridiculous, but well loved, in a way. He liked the idea, the same way he liked how pleasant that had been. Something special again on Christmas day, for the first time in years.

“C’mon Artoo,” he muttered quietly. “Let’s go make coffee and wait for Mikasa to wake up.”

Chapter Text

10:58 PM
From: Eren
Okay, but I don’t understand. Just. Go to the bathroom, Iz.

Isabel had never been more frustrated with Eren Jaeger in her life. She shoved her phone in her pocket without responding, her other hand clutched around the hilt of her Nerf gun. If it was as simple as just going to the bathroom, she would have done that. She checked her surroundings, scuttled upstairs to the third floor, spent a long moment listening for anyone’s footsteps, and then tucked herself in a niche to answer the text as calmly as she could.

11:01 PM
To: Eren
DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE DONE THAT IF I COULD???? BATHROOM’S ARE FUCKING KILLSHOOTS DURING THESE THINGS AND I REFUSE TO LOSE THIS YEAR OKAY I REFUSE!!!

Compared to last year, Isabel was handling the stress of the event very well. So far Erwin, Arouro, Gunther, Petra, and Mike were the ones who had been shot so far to Isabel’s knowledge. Levi had shot Erwin in the face as soon as the tradition had started, Hanji cackling loudly as they announced the death in a loud ringing voice that arched even above the scramble of everyone suddenly trying to flee the living room. In the madness someone – probably Petra – had taken a shot at Arouro and hit, catching his shoulder. Hanji had shouted out their name as well, but the rest of the eliminations were rumors or echoes Isabel had kinda-sorta heard through the vents.

Isabel wasn’t actually sure what to do now, to be quite honest. She’d never made it this far into the night before. Usually someone popped around a corner around ten thirty and she caught a bullet in the shoulder or leg as she tried to scramble away and then she would angrily go downstairs, pee, and then sulk in the kitchen until midnight. But she was still in the game with an hour to go and, oh my god, it was fucking terrifying.

Footsteps, up the stairs, and Isabel choked on her own tongue, darting out from her hiding spot and around the corner. The footsteps paused, faltered, and then, they chased.

(Erwin’s house was stupidly fucking huge. Isabel didn’t know how or why he had such a stupidly huge house, because it was just him and Isabel couldn’t imagine living like that. Seemed empty and kind of terrible, if you asked her.

No one had asked her, but that was beside the point. The point was, Erwin had a fucking huge ass house and she wasn’t sure why.

But it worked in her favor this time, so she wasn’t arguing too much.)

Time was a wonky thing on New Year’s Eve during their annual Nerf gun battle, so Isabel wasn’t sure if it was a minute or ten before she threw herself over the railing, dropping down to whatever floor was below her and scrambling into the closet. The footsteps came and then, like a charm, they went. And she figured, well, it was as good of a texting/hiding spot as any, right?

11:01 PM
From: Eren
omg Isabel chill my bad I’m sorry u can’t pee rn but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to soon

11:03 PM
From: Eren
Armin asked why you guys have this weird tradition and I told him that you didn’t know and he went “how the fuck do you people live not knowing things” oh tipsy Armin you classic charmer

11:04 PM
From: Eren
I have enjoyed seeing Armin and Mikasa and Annie very much, but holy fuck I’m so glad I’m going home this weekend

11:04: PM
From: Eren
ANNIE IS HUMMING BARBIE GIRL IN MY EAR i miss u help

11:11 PM
From: Eren
We should have celebratory Chinese when we get home, at that buffet place that always forgets to give Jean a straw

11:12 PM
From: Eren
rip Isabel long live the queen

Isabel choked on her own laugh, shoving her hand in her mouth and rolling her eyes in the darkness of the hall closet on what was probably the second floor. Eren was ridiculous, probably tipsy himself from what she knew of his plans from earlier and absolutely endearing.

11:13 PM
To: Eren
I’m not dead, you dolt, I was just running around trying not to get shot. Chinese sounds good, tho Jean’s gonna throw a fit.

The phone had just dimmed by the time the screen burned to life again, blinding her with how bright it was. Eren’s text made her tuck her face down into the collar of the hoodie Jean had gotten her, grinning against the warm fabric as her heart squeezed fondly for her friend.

11:13 Pm
From: Eren
If you tell him this, I will deny it and disown you both, but I have genuinely missed Jean throwing a goddamn fit tbh

She could have left the closet then, but she didn’t. She texted him back, a quick you soft hearted bastard, I bet he missed you too, and then lingered, her free hand creeping down into her hoodie pocket as she cradled her phone against her collarbone. In her pocket was the match to the walkie-talkie she had gotten Eren, which was a relief, because it meant that she hadn’t lost it fleeing from whoever the fuck had been behind her. She only stayed in the closet (haha) for another minute, creaking open the door an inch and peeking out. Once she could tell that the coast was clear she ducked out of the closet, kicked it closed behind her, and ducked down the next hall.

Where she immediately body slammed into someone in the doorway to the library (which, at least, confirmed that she was on the second floor).

“Oh fuck,” she squeaked. She tried to bring up her Nerf gun, to shoot whoever it was, because otherwise she was fucked, but before she could, an arm wound around her waist, righted her and pulled her flush against someone’s broad chest all in one move.

“Jesus Christ, Izzy,” Farlan muttered against her hair, fingers digging slightly into the curve of her hip. Her heart was racing, lodged in her throat, and she felt suddenly and instantly sick. “Would it kill you to look before you leap for once?”

She tried not to shudder, she tried not to be obvious, how much she wanted to press her face against his throat and never move. She might have dropped her Nerf gun, had it not been for the way Farlan leaned back, giving her a chance to swallow roughly and compose herself.

“Says the guy who ran into me,” Isabel answered. There wasn’t enough bite in her words, barely a nip, and that was a thought she needed to stop immediately, nips and bites and Farlan all tangled together, because it wasn’t happening. She wasn’t a child, she knew better, she could control her emotions; Farlan was just a friend, her older brother’s best friend, and he would never be anything more.

(But then he laughed, nose wrinkling, eyes warm and bright like Christmas lights, like fireworks, like the way Disneyworld and New York City looked in Isabel’s head, and she forgot. Just for a second, just for a heartbeat, he laughed and she forgot that it was never going to happen, a chill dancing down her spine as her chest caved in with how much she felt, her heart swelling and bursting at the noise like she was drowning in a burst dam of her own emotions. She leaned forward, into him, tipping her head up, and then-)

“Oh god, I knew they had to have missed one,” Farlan muttered, cutting himself off mid laugh as he stepped back.

(The moment was broken.)

Isabel tipped her head up, cocking it to the side, and when she realized what Farlan was gesturing to with a shake of his head her blood ran cold. Mistletoe, stuck to the ceiling of the hallway, just inside the library’s door. Isabel had forgotten about that, forgotten Hanji had left a maze of awkward kiss scenarios all throughout the house for the Christmas party, which Erwin had sworn he’d taken down. Apparently he had missed one.

And they were under it.

(If this was a daydream, which, well, it might have been, Farlan would look at her, his eyes would shift, and he’d say her name, quiet and soft and imploringly. He’d bend down and she’d rise up and he’d say something like, “Can I kiss you?” and Isabel would yank him down to meet her. In her daydreams it was never awkward or rushed, even though he’d only ever kissed one boy, on a fieldtrip during high school, and it always felt like a shock, in her head, in her dreams and daydreams and fantasies, to have Farlan kiss her.

But Isabel felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, watched Farlan’s face as it shifted into a crinkle of disgust, his body rocking another step back.

She knew this wasn’t a daydream. She knew this was reality and that there was no way in Hell that it was ending the way she wanted.

She just didn’t know how to get that message from her head down to her hopeful and stupid heart.)

“God, what the hell was Hanji thinking putting all this shit up,” Farlan said, continuing to back away. Isabel’s gun hung limply from her hand and she couldn’t even bring herself to react as Farlan gestured, the Nerf weapon crossing over her in an arch. He could have shot her then and it would have been kinder than listening to him scoff, watching him corner himself in the library rather than consider the idea that kissing her wouldn’t be so bad.

“I don’t know,” Isabel said. She forced herself to laugh, forced herself to shrug, forced herself to stop feeling because otherwise she might cry. Farlan rolled his eyes and curled his lip again, shaking his head, and Isabel thought about shooting him, thought about screaming, thought about a lot of things, her head a whirl, her heart a heavy weight in her chest.

“I promise not to shoot you in the back or bring this embarrassment up later if you do,” Farlan offered. Isabel blinked and it felt like years before she could nod.

“Deal,” she whispered. And then, knowing it would seem odd and not caring, hoping Farlan was so caught up in the game and in the utter horrors that the idea of kissing her held, she fled. She ran and she tripped and her eyes blurred with tears, her legs wobbling under her until finally she slipped on a staircase, somewhere in this maze of a mansion of a house, and fell on her ass.

“Isabel,” someone said sharply. She jerked, the voice loud and deep and startling. She blinked and couldn’t tell if she was crying, couldn’t tell if she was hurt or angry or anything. She just felt numb, clawed up inside and empty all the way to the tips of her fingers.

(She was probably being dramatic, but it felt like she was dying.

Bu people couldn’t die of a broken heart, no matter what the fairytales said. She’d get over it eventually.

Hopefully.)

Isabel picked up her head, scrubbing at her face with the palms of her hands and realizing that at some point she had lost her Nerf gun. Erwin stood at the foot of the stairs, just a few steps below her, a few red marks on his face from what Isabel could only fathom were Nerf darts and a look on his face that made her feel strange and cornered.

“Are you okay,” Erwin asked. He didn’t crouch down and craning up to look at him made Isabel feel small. “That was a big tumble you just took.”

She nodded, then shook her head, and then cleared her throat around the lump of a despaired scream lodged there when she realized what a confusing reaction that would be. “I’m fine,” Isabel told him. Her voice sounded far away and it felt like there was a speaker in her throat, putting out sound that someone else was saying. She let it continue, content to live with the feeling of not being the thought of train behind her voice. “I’m just. I got shot in the back, I don’t know by who, and I got so mad I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. At this rate everyone else will be hooked up to breathing machines before I can win one of these things.”

Erwin laughed, crossing his arms and shaking his head a little. Isabel thought about getting up, but the thought exhausted her, so she didn’t. “I don’t think we’ll need to get quite to the point where we’re hooked up to ‘breathing machines’,” he said, voice tilted slantwise. “I mean, it looks like you made it all the way to eleven thirty, so that’s something! Anyway,” he continued, briskly changing the subject. Isabel’s already woozy head spun again. “I was looking for you, I wanted to check if something was okay with you before I offered it up to your brother.”

My brother, Isabel thought. She couldn’t figure out where this was going, but she nodded, whispering, “okay, I guess?”

“Pixis just texted me,” Erwin started. “Apparently someone from another company that we’ve been trying to make a deal with is interested, but they’re insisting that they need to meet with us Sunday. Pixis already agreed; this deal is very important to the company- I know, this is all very boring to you,” he added, interrupting himself. Isabel jolted and she wasn’t sure why, that small feeling coming back as he continued with, “but I’m just trying to give you some background. Anyway, Pixis already agreed and now he’s insisting that Levi be the one in charge of the meeting held on Sunday to get this deal underway for good.”

Erwin’s words made Isabel’s chest clench and ice over with dread, a feeling she hadn’t been sure she had left in her. “But, Levi’s supposed to take me back to school on Sunday,” she said. Her voice came out just as small and thin as she felt. She flinched a moment after she said it, feeling foolish, selfish, childish – Levi’s work was important, both to him and the company, and if Pixis was insisting she knew there was nothing he could do. “It’s okay, I’ll ride the bus,” she rushed to add. She shook herself a little, trying to remove herself from the funk that was slowly taking over her head, but she couldn’t. Luckily her mouth was still working on its own. “I’ve already ridden the route once, it’s not that long or hard. We’ll get a ticket tomorrow, I’m sure, it’ll be fine-“

“Actually,” Erwin interrupted, “that’s what I was going to offer to help out with.”

Isabel felt her forehead wrinkle with her confusion. “You want to… buy my bus ticket?”

“No,” Erwin said and he laughed, the noise loud and ringing, an assault on Isabel’s sore head. “I was going to offer to drive you back.”

(It didn’t occur to her to wonder why Levi was needed at the office when Erwin wasn’t. It didn’t occur to her why Pixis would insist on Levi being the one in charge. Isabel was tired, her heart was shattered, and all she wanted to do was call Eren and listen to him talk. To hear him laugh, to make him laugh, because god, he was such a good friend, if only she could have been in love with someone like him, if only-

Isabel was tired. So she turned off her brain for the night instead.)

“That would probably be better than the bus,” Isabel’s mouth said for her. Erwin smiled, finally reaching out, taking her arm and hauling her up to her feet. She smiled, but she didn’t feel it like she thought she should. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem at all, Isabel,” Erwin said. He put his hand on her back and guided her arm, pushing her forward steadily as he did so until she took a step with him, and then another. “Now come on,” he added, “it’s almost time for the clock countdown. I think Hanji saved you some cookies, too.”

Cookies didn’t sound so bad and neither did the countdown. Plus, in the safety of the kitchen, with everyone thinking she’d been shot, she could text Eren again freely.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Isabel echoed. And faintly, in the back of her head, she wished desperately that the next year would be kinder to her than the year she had almost finished surviving.

Chapter Text

Eren waited outside, despite the cold, his ass going numb on the concrete of the sidewalk, knowing Isabel wouldn’t want him to but unable to shake the feeling that he needed to be outside when she arrived. She was due any minute, if her (genuinely odd and slightly concerning) texts were any indication, and he found himself turning his phone over in his hands, fingers aching from the cold as something like excitement wormed around his throat.

(He kept trying to tell himself he wasn’t excited to meet Isabel’s brother. That was stupid. He was an asshole who worried her and upset her, so why the fuck would Eren be, like, anxious or something to meet him. It wasn’t like he’d spent the whole ride back to town wondering if Isabel’s brother would be tall, or broad shouldered, with red hair like hers or something darker, or lighter, or-

Okay, so, maybe he had. So what if he fucking had? It was normal to wonder about people when you hadn’t met them, that was all. He probably could have dug through Instagram to find a goddamn picture of him, but somehow that felt like cheating. Like he was sinking to some unknown level or turning into a weird stalker or something. Which he wasn’t! He just-

He just wanted to know what the fuck was up with Isabel’s brother, so that he could stop thinking about him. He had shit to do without whoever the fuck Levi was pulling at his brain.)

The phone buzzed, his fingers so numb he almost couldn’t feel it. He tucked his face down into the scarf Armin had gotten him for Christmas and tapped the screen to open it, eyes scanning it quickly before he picked up his head and started to scan the parking lot in front of Isabel’s dorm.

1:24 PM
From: Isabel
oh my god I can see my dorm I have never been so happy in my life to see a school’s campus jesus CHRIST

There was a knot in Eren’s shoulders and reading those words only tightened it. A five hour drive made anyone anxious to leave the car, but Isabel’s texts had felt wrong and on edge since she’d started messaging him, before they’d even gotten on the road. At this point Eren was probably just as wound up as Isabel was, ready for her to just get here so he could figure out what the fuck was going on with her. He’d tried to ask, but she kept texting back that it was nothing, which only made his stomach turn, because it clearly wasn’t and-

A car pulled up, sleek and silver and more expensive that Eren had ever considered. Its windows were dark and it reminded him vaguely of a car his father drove once, before his mother died. It pulled up, swinging smoothly into the parking space to his right, and even before the car was fully stopped the passenger door was swinging open. A wave of heat bled out of the car, teasing at Eren’s cold fingers and numb face, and with it, stumbling a little in her haste to get her seatbelt off, came Isabel too.

Eren surged to his feet so fast he almost dropped his phone, clumsily shoving it in the pocket of the hoodie Jean had gotten him for Christmas. He managed it just in time, his hands free and empty seconds before Isabel launched herself into his arms, and he caught her, stumbling, twisting to turn it into a spin as the car’s engine cut off, the warmth of her body bleeding into his as he picked her up and spun her around. She squeaked, clinging to him, her fingers curling into his hood, her boots knocking against his shins as he pressed his face against her hair and breathed her in.

“Eren,” she whispered. And Eren’s chest clenched, the same feeling filling him that had swamped him at the bus depot back home, when he’d found his childhood friends waiting for him in the cold.

“Hey Izzy-bell,” Eren murmured back, squeezing her as he stopped spinning them, wobbling to a stop and lowering her the few inches to the ground. She continued to cling to his shoulders, oddly tight, and Eren stayed bent to accommodate her, feeling something shift in his chest as he lifted to head, eyes sliding across the parking lot to watch as the driver’s side door opened and a man climbed out.

Levi looked-

Disappointing, Eren thought, something sour on his tongue. Isabel’s brother was tall, with broad shoulders and blonde hair, his blue eyes cold and remote, with an expression to match. He didn’t look much like Isabel, but she had said they were half siblings, with the same mother and different fathers. Even knowing that, knowing that this was Isabel’s brother, who loved her and apparently had worked things out with her, Eren didn’t like the look of him. The urge to pick Isabel up again rose in his chest and he smothered it, kicking it back and straightening slowly, giving Isabel time to pull back. But she didn’t and the feeling of Not Right that had been building in Eren’s chest burst.

“Well,” Isabel’s brother said, crossing his arms. Eren curled his hands into fists and tried to count to ten. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Isabel?”

Isabel shifted, tucking herself neatly under Eren’s arm, and she felt small, smaller than usual as she cleared her throat. And then she said, “Eren, this is Erwin. He works with my brother.”

(And Eren felt something shift in him, anger flaring again, but something else, beneath the anger, which felt almost like relief.

Whoever this man was, he wasn’t Levi and that changed things.)

“Actually, it’s more like her brother works for me,” the blonde said, stepping forward. He reached out, holding out a hand for Eren to shake, but something curled and soured in Eren’s gut that had him shoving his hand in his pocket for his phone, pretending like it had buzzed. He ducked his head, glancing at the screen, and only looked up in a distracted kind of way after that.

“Hi,” he said, sliding his arm more firmly around Isabel. He turned to her then, making it obvious who his question was for as he asked, “wasn’t your brother supposed to drop you off?”

Isabel looked at him, big green eyes with her hair all tied up in two messy buns, and when she nodded it was tight, sheepish like this was her fault when Eren would have bet everything he owned it wasn’t. Something started eating him away, tearing through his ribs until he felt fire at his fingertips.

“Levi and Farlan were both called into work,” the guy – Erwin – interrupted, before Isabel could respond. “I offered to bring her by instead, since I was still on vacation. And-“

“And you should probably start heading back,” Isabel interjected awkwardly. She was shaking faintly and Eren hoped it was from the cold, his gut turning sickly, his hands spasming into fists he couldn’t control. “Eren and I will get the bags out of the car, but it’s already going to be dark by the time you get home, so you should really start heading back, Erwin. Thanks for bringing me back, but I’d hate to make you lose time…”

Erwin’s face shifted and as Isabel ducked out from under Eren’s shoulder, darting to the back seat of the car where her suitcase and duffle bag could be vaguely seen through the tinted windows, Eren stepped up to match her. He moved until he was between Isabel and Erwin, a human shield, because while it didn’t seem like Isabel was hurt, she wasn’t Right, and that was enough for Eren.

“Oh come on,” Erwin said, and while his voice was smooth, it fell flat and hollow against the pavement as Isabel yanked her bag and suitcase out of the car and quickly kicked the door closed. “Let me help you take your bags up, I’ll buy you lunch before I hit the road. What do you say?”

Isabel glanced at Eren and then away, lightning fast, but long enough. Eren stepped up to take the handle of her suitcase without a word, shaking his head at the offer. Isabel added softly, “no thanks, it’s okay. We’re going to grab a bite soon when Jean gets in anyway, so you might as well hit the road.”

(Jean wasn’t coming back for another three hours, if his estimation was correct, but Eren would have bitten his tongue in two before saying that. If it got this creep gone, Eren would have backed her on any fucking lie.)

“I’m offering you two a meal you don’t have to pay for,” Erwin said, like they could be bought. Eren felt his face twitch even as he tried to control it, the suitcase crashing against the lip of the curb with more force than necessary as Eren fought against his reaction to that statement.

“We can cover the cost of our own lunch, thanks,” Eren muttered, pushing the suitcase over a crack. There was a shuffling of steps behind him, the sound of slick expensive shoes across the pavement, and an uneasy feeling crawled up Eren’s spine, like cold little hands.

“Well, at least let me help with the bags,” Erwin was saying as Eren turned, suitcase forgotten as his eyes fell on the way Erwin was reaching for Isabel’s arm, outstretched and-

Oh fuck that, Eren thought, a split second after he was already in motion. He felt his knuckles ache before he registered the punch thrown, Erwin’s head snapping to the side so that his stupid fucking blonde hair fell over his eyes. Isabel screamed as the jolt cracked through his arm to his shoulder, a half swallowed noise that was punctuated by the way she scrambled out of the way, hunched in on herself and clutching the strap of her duffle bag protectively.

(Somewhere, in Eren’s head, he knew this might have been uncalled for. There was no evidence that Erwin was a fucking creep or that he deserved to be punched. But Eren had a feeling in his gut, a feeling that curved like Isabel’s hunched in shoulders and reeked of some fucking expensive stupid cologne, that whoever the fuck this Erwin guy was, this punch had been waiting on the edge of Eren’s knuckles with the blonde’s name on it all his fucking life.)

“She said you should go,” Eren growled, the words like gravel wedged between his teeth. He felt like a caveman, his shoulders so tight he couldn’t put his arms down all the way, numb fingers curled tight until they felt like knives against his palm. Erwin picked up his head, looking at Isabel, and then, without a glance in Eren’s direction, straightened and stepped back, like nothing at all had fucking happened.

“My apologies,” he said shortly. And then, with an edge of menace that almost had made Eren lunge in for another swing, Erwin smiled thinly. “I’ll let your brother know you arrived safe, Isabel.”

“If that’s a fucking threat,” Eren started to growl, moving again, but Isabel was there, warm and soft against his arm, curling around it and hauling him back with a surprising amount of strength.

“Eren,” she whispered quietly. Erwin got in the car and then, without even waiting for Eren to move, left, tires almost squealing against the ground as he drove away. “Eren, it’s okay. Jesus Christ, you punched him.”

Like ice down his shirt, shame slid its way down Eren’s spine, pushing out the heat of his rage like it had never even existed. His stomach turned, the disgust he felt suddenly having no outlet, and he flinched without meaning to, head hanging as he felt the realization of what he’d done tighten like a noose around his throat.

“Sorry, I- I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered. He went to shove his hand through his hair, but he found he couldn’t uncurl it right, the pain making him wince audibly as he tried. Isabel was there in an instant, reaching for his hand, and even when he tried to pull away she simply huffed and smacked his shoulder, gently and fondly.

“Honestly, Eren,” she said. It was all she said, like he was supposed to know what that meant, and maybe he did, but he it felt like he didn’t. He had just punched her older brother’s boss. He was going to get them in so much fucking trouble, god, him and his fucking temper, it ruined every goddamn thing he touched.

(“Detention again,” his father had asked tersely, whenever he came home late from school. Eren’s jaw had ached around an anger that didn’t seem to dull with age.

“Yeah,” he had answered flatly every time. “Detention again.”

By the time he graduated, he’d spent more time with the librarians who hosted detention more than he had with his father. He’d also broken his hand four times, his leg once, and his nose three times.

College had been promised as a different experience, but that promise had apparently only last a year and a half.

Eren wasn’t surprised. He doubted anyone else who knew him would be either.)

“Come on, you big lug,” Isabel said, hooking her elbow in his and carefully dragging him to the sidewalk, where her suitcase was now lying on its side. Eren swallowed sheepishly at the sight, opening his mouth to apologize, but she stopped him before he could.

“God,” she exclaimed, her voice ringing across the pavement, tangling in the cold air and getting carried up over their heads. “I cannot wait to call Levi and tell him about this. You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever punched Erwin before?”

Eren cringed, trying to pull his arm out of hers and jostling his hand against his hip, whining in his throat as he did so. It didn’t hurt like he’d broken it, but it still hurt. He’d gotten used to his hands not hurting and now he felt like a baby, whining about a little boo-boo.

“I didn’t mean to-“ Eren tried. The words clogged his throat, because it was a lie; he had meant that punch with every fiber of his fucking being, because something about that prick had just felt wrong. But he wasn’t sixteen anymore, he should have been above this, he should have-

“Levi’s going to be so sorry he missed that,” Isabel continued, dragging him neatly into her dorm building. There was probably supposed to be someone checking people back in, but the desk was empty, so Isabel slipped past, carting Eren, her suitcase, and her duffle bag like it was nothing. Eren could only blink, the flush of a warmly heated building breathing feeling back into him, heart pulsing in his chest with an echo of the feeling in his fingers as he processed what she had said.

“What,” he responded intelligently. The elevator came and went in a weird fashion of time, where Isabel fluttered and shoved her duffle bag in his good arm so that she could search her suitcase for her room key. It took her a while to respond to him, humming away and muttering to herself, but when the elevator opened up again she (carefully) hooked his arm again and proceeded to drag him out into the hall.

“Levi,” Isabel said again. “I’m pretty sure he’s been wanting to punch Erwin for ages. He’s going to be so sad I didn’t get it on video.”

Shame turned Eren’s gut, his anger flaring briefly again. He yanked his arm out of hers, not caring that it caused a jolt of pain to dance from his knuckles to his elbow, and stormed forward, marching around the corner toward Isabel’s dorm and-

Immediately he was out of steam as he reached her door.

Fuck, Eren thought. He almost bolted back around the next corner, almost fled all the way back to his own dorm building, but he knew she would find him. He stayed, ashamed, tired, and still worried about her, since he still hadn’t asked her if she was alright after her drive. She turned the corner half a minute later, eyebrows arched fondly as she eyed him waiting by her door.

“If you’re done throwing a fit-“ she teased, but Eren shook his head, shoulders hunching, his nose itching from the cold as he slowly thawed.

“Are you okay,” he asked instead of bowing out, taking her white flag and leaving it be. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to address the sting in his hand or think about her brother’s boss going to work tomorrow with a purple cheek. The thought made him choke, a taste like bile in the back of his throat.

“Me? Why are you asking me if I’m okay,” Isabel asked. She knocked on the door, waited barely half a second, and then shoved in her key, twisting it halfheartedly before shoving at the handle with her wrist. Eren wasn’t sure how that worked, but her door swung open on a dark, empty room and she pushed forward, letting her suitcase fall over barely a foot in the door. Eren stood outside for a second, her duffle bag still on his shoulder, gaping at her until she rolled her eyes and marched over to pull him inside with her.

In the dim light of her still dorm room, Isabel looked like herself; she stood tall and her voice rang loud, shoulders slumped easily as she started to shed her layers of winter cold. She bounced on her toes, head bopping to something in her head as she pulled things from the pocket in her hoodie (the one Jean had given her, with the roses, dusty like the color high in her cheeks) before she looked at him, obviously still waiting for an answer. And Eren felt his heart lodge in his throat, because he what if he had ruined this.

What if one misguided, anger drunk punch took this easy friendship from him?

“You sounded weird,” Eren said quietly. Isabel came to a stop in front of him, head tipped up to look at him as he let the duffle bag drop from his shoulder. It half landed on his foot, but he didn’t care. “In your texts, you sounded off. That’s why I was outside, waiting for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and then you threw yourself out of the car, and you told that guy to leave, like you-“

Eren cut himself off, vocal cords tangling together as he cut his eyes away from hers, glaring at the shuttered window instead. Silence hung in the air between them and while Eren fidgeted, Isabel was a warm, solid, patience presence in front of him. He broke before she did, glancing back at her, and she smiled at him, crooked and soft.

“Did he hurt you?”

Shock painted Isabel’s face like a sunrise, realization bleeding pink into her cheeks, her jaw dropping as she breathed something that might have been Eren’s name. She looked cross, for a second, and then fond, and then exasperated, all the emotions making Eren’s head spin. She smacked him, hard, her palm bouncing off Eren’s ribs before her hand snuck up to grab at his chin, hauling him down to her height until they were nose to nose.

“No,” she said clearly. “He did not.”

Eren’s stomach dropped to his feet, landing on the ground to be stepped on, probably, or kicked around some more. He tasted the bile, though this time there was also the copper-blood tang that made Eren feel sixteen and fucking hopeless.

“Oh,” his mouth said, the word nearly as hollow as his brittle bones. “Shit, I’m-“

“Hush,” Isabel said, her fingers knocking into his cheek, in something too soft to be a slap and with just a tad too much weight to properly call a tap. Eren shut his mouth so fast around the rest of his apology that his teeth clicked together. Eren swallowed, nodding to show he was listening, and Isabel huffed, apparently satisfied.

“He didn’t hurt me,” she repeated. Her expression softened, something in her eyes glinting bitterly as she admitted, “but he was making me uncomfortable. I’m glad he’s gone.”

Eren made a face, not completely convinced, but in his chest something loosened and despite everything he felt his shoulders slump with relief.

(Which, in hindsight, lasted only as long as it took Isabel to find him an icepack and dial a number on her phone.)

“No, really,” Isabel was saying. Eren mouthed why at her and was ignored. “He was just suddenly there, it was incredible. You have to send me pictures of Erwin’s face tomorrow, I bet he’s going to be purple all the way to his ear!”

“Please,” Eren moaned. He took the ice off his hand, letting the bag drop to the floor. If it spilled it was Isabel’s problem, payment for putting him through this torture. “Please, let it go, you’re not mad, I didn’t ruin your life, I get it.”

“Erwin’s already called out,” Isabel’s brother said, a faint whisper Eren could hear over the phone if he listened intently. He tried to stop listening intently, but his ears wouldn’t listen to him, ironically enough. He was finely tuned to the guy’s voice, hanging on his every word since he’d picked up the phone nearly ten minutes before, and Eren hated it. Who the fuck cared about this Levi guy?

(Eren, apparently.)

“What, oh that big baby,” Isabel laughed. She tossed back her head, hair curling and bouncing around her shoulders since she had let it down. She leaned back, patting Eren’s hip as she leant her weight against his thigh, and he had to swallow roughly against the swell of affection that rose. The weight of it all almost squashed the resentment he felt toward himself, but not quite. He was still seasick with shame, still knotted up with disgust in his own lack of self-control. He should have been better than that, better than a fucking quick and messy punch thrown in the heat of the moment.

“Is your friend okay,” Levi asked eventually. Eren felt his ears burn and he choked, flinging his arm over his eyes as Isabel’s face lit up in a delighted grin.

“Eren? Oh, he’s fine; he bruised his knuckles a bit and they’re a little swollen, but he says he’s had worse.”

Faintly, in a way that Eren almost had to sit up to hear, it sounded like Levi hummed on the other end of the phone. Tingles raced down Eren’s spine and he flushed all the way down his neck, embarrassed all the way to his toes.

“I’m glad,” Isabel’s brother said quietly, so quietly Eren probably made it up in his head. Eren made a strangled noise in his throat anyway, Isabel’s faint huff of laughter almost drowning out the sound of Eren’s heartbeat thundering in his head.

“You know, your weird friend is alright.”

I’m dying, Eren thought, I’m dying and I’m going to Hell.

Isabel’s laughter was so loud it rung in Eren’s head as he sat up so fast his vision blacked out. “Did’ya hear that Eren,” she teased, bouncing as his movement knocked her off his leg. “Levi says you’re his hero.”

“That is not-“ Eren started to snap, but he choked on his own words almost instantly, because there was a sound coming through the phone. It was like laughter, but lighter, warmer; even with the static of the call, the sound curled around Eren’s head like- like a-

Fuck, Eren thought, wide eyed. What the fuck? He couldn’t think, all because Isabel’s brother was fucking laughing. What was happening to him? Why was he so frazzled just because the guy he thought hated him was laughing?

“Jesus fuck, I need a soda,” Eren muttered. Isabel was laughing with her brother, cheeks pink from mirth and eyes sparkling as she watched him shove to his feet and pad, only in socks, to her dorm room door.

“Bring me back a Coke please,” she chirped. She tipped her head to the side, phone tucked under her ear, and from this distance Eren couldn’t hear what was said next to make her shake, eyes squinting shut as she laughed again, but he wanted to. He grunted instead, shouldering open the door and kicking it vaguely closed without worrying about it locking too much.

He was halfway down the hall when he realized he didn’t hate himself for the way his hand stung. He was annoyed, a little frustrated, but he didn’t-

He didn’t hate himself.

He stopped dead, blinking down at his socks, feeling his eyebrows furrow as he picked up his hand and stared at it. The knuckles were faintly swollen and red, but with the skin thankfully unbroken. It pulsed faintly with a dulled sense of pain every time he twitched his fingers.

(“Detention again,” the librarians used to ask him, lips curling lopsidedly as they peered at him from over their desks. Their words were light, like a brush against his shoulder instead of a blow, angled differently in their mouths from others.

Sometimes it felt like they were asking something else entirely, but Eren hadn’t let himself think about that a lot at the time.

“Yeah,” Eren had always answered. “Detention again, ma’am. Are those the books that need sorting onto shelves?”

Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. Eren had never considered he could be more than this, more than violence, and detention, and quiet resentment that settled into hollow bones, staining the inside of his chest black and blue.)

“So,” Isabel said, phone silent and dark at her side when he returned with a Coke and a Dr. Pepper from the vending machine a floor down. “I was thinking we’d go to dinner whenever Jean turns up and decide on New Year’s Resolutions then. Sound good?”

Somehow Isabel had already wormed her way into Eren’s new FUCKU hoodie, her hair already in a different style even though he’d only been gone a few minutes. He blinked at her, the cold from the cans of soda making his sore hand ache, and when he swallowed it wasn’t hard at all.

New Year Resolutions, he thought. It’s a new year.

(He could be something more. Something more than an undecided major, the kid with the record for the most detentions in their county, the son who’d killed his mother and drove his father away; he could be more than anyone had ever expected of him.)

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “We’re still on for Chinese, right?”

(Or, maybe, with a little help, he could just be himself.)

Chapter Text

Jean was waiting for her outside the door to her class when she finished with her last quiz of the week. It hadn’t taken her very long, but if she’d known he was going to be out there, she would have hurried a bit more. Who even made a quiz for the third week of classes anyway? Sadistic TA’s, that was who. Isabel already loathed this stupid class; Introduction to Statistics, why was that a thing?

“What are you doing here,” Isabel asked as the door swung shut behind her. The hall was relatively empty, classes having started nearly twenty minutes before. Jean was leaning against the wall like some kind of poster boy for a bad greaser movie, ankles crossed, collar of a leather jacket Isabel wasn’t sure why he owned popped until it brushed his jaw. His hair was tangled, probably from the bitterly cold wind outside, and his cheeks had a faint chapped flush to them.

“What, I can’t come visit you in between classes?”

Isabel wrinkled her nose, eyebrows arching so high her pompom cap shifted on her head. Jean clutched his chest, woolen fingerless gloves framing fingers pink around the knuckles, and Isabel had to swallow back a laugh. Wordlessly she took the Starbucks cup from him, venti with the crooked scrawl of a barista’s handwriting abbreviating something that looked close enough to her order for her to assume it was for her. Jean let her have it without a word, proving that it was in fact a coffee meant for her, and she sipped at it cautiously, the warmth of it telling her he hadn’t been waiting long at all.

“Eren sent me,” Jean explained as she sipped at the coffee and shivered with the faintest thrill of pleasure. It was silly of her, but nothing curled her toes after a miserable class quite like a mocha latte did. She hummed to show she was listening, stepping out of the way of the classroom door when one of her classmates fled the room, supposedly finished with their quiz. Jean hooked his fingers in her bag, pulling her gently until she was leaning against the same wall he was. She let him, leaning against his side a little as his curling fingers found a grip, relieving her of the backpack haphazardly slung over one shoulder.

“He said we’d been invited to hang out at Marco and Bertholdt’s place tonight, games and pizza and shit like that. Connie texted him around noon, or he would have just told you at the gym this morning.”

 Isabel shifted a little, surprised. As far as she had known, the invitation to Marco and Bertholdt’s was always for parties, not just for pizza and games. She purses her lips around the straw, eyebrows furrowing, and Jean watched her with a curling little smile that bled warmth in her almost as well as the coffee did.

“Sometimes parties are just too much hassle,” Jean muttered, laughing with a little shrug. “Pizza and games works just fine for a much smaller crowd. They’ll probably pull out the hard shit if you want, but beers and sodas will be more abundant than shots from my experience.”

“Oh, however will I live,” Isabel asked, rhetoric and dramatic, biting her cheek to hide her smile when Jean laughed loudly in response. She rolled her eyes pointedly, to show just how little she cared about their beverage selection for the night, as if she was only interested in their friends for their liquor cabinets. Jean nudged her with his shoulder in response, jostling her drink, and she shoved back, pushing off the wall as she did so.

“Eren could have texted me,” she pointed out as she started down the hall, trusting Jean would follow. He did, carting her backpack over one shoulder and using three long legged steps to come abreast with her in the empty hall. Her phone was in her hoodie pouch, on vibrate so that she wouldn’t get in trouble, and she was sure it hadn’t gone off in the last hour or so. She pulled it out as they took the stairs down to the first floor, glancing at her lock screen for notifications. The selfie of her and Eren and Jean on their first day at the gym after their New Year’s resolution stared back at her, along with the time and the date, but no texts or tweets or anything.

“I happened to be at lunch with him when he got the invitation for us all to come out,” Jean answered. He shrugged, hopping down the steps ahead of her to open the first floor door so that she could got through. “He was going to text you, but my class was cancelled today and I figured I could just pick you up and save you from walking through this fucking cold to your dorms?”

The tilt of the last sentence was more question than statement and Jean looked at her from under his bangs, eyes searching her face for something like approval. She snorted, lips curving against the edge of the plastic lid as she took another sip, and Jean look a breath, his shoulders dropping in relief as he exhaled.

“I’m never going to turn down something that gets me outta this bullshit you assholes call winter,” Isabel told him pointedly, slipping past him and out into the first floor hallway. Jean followed, moving to step ahead and open the next door again, and this time the shiver that traced Isabel’s spine had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with dread. She could feel the frozen chill from outside bleeding through the glass doors and as she stepped forward her fingers curled around the coffee tighter, trying to enjoy its warmth while it lasted.

“You’ll see the perks of this kind of weather soon enough,” Jean retorted, opening the door without any mercy at all. Isabel bit her lip on a shriek, the freezing cold rushing in to steal every ounce of warmth she’d ever housed within her body promptly away.

“I seriously doubt that,” Isabel muttered, ducking her face down into Eren’s scarf, the one she’d stolen that morning at the gym. Jean’s laughter echoed across the frosty lawn outside the building, his arm winding around her hips as he steered her toward the parking lot around the corner toward his car.

-

Eren was sprawled across a couch Isabel had never seen before when they arrived at the house, curled over a bowl that, from the smell of the house at large, was probably ramen. He was tucked into a bundle of blankets, hair even messier than usual, eyes half lidded in an expression of pure contentment that made Isabel jealous of the level of comfort he had achieved while she had been in statistics, of all things. Connie was sitting in front of him on the floor, Sasha huddled up in the area where Isabel assumed Eren’s feet to be. Reiner and Bertholdt were nowhere to be found, but there was sound from the kitchen, like that of the microwave going off faintly under the noise from the television.

“Eren, we just ate,” Jean griped, crossing his arms like some badly stereotyped housewife in an old cartoon. Eren looked up from what was in fact ramen, cheeks puffed out with food, and grinned, his bangs hanging in his green eyes as Isabel wandered close. He chewed messily, swallowed quick like lightning, and then leant forward, behind where Connie was in the room, to plant his (hopefully empty) bowl on the ground.

“Hey, Izzy,” Eren said, licking his lips before rubbing his wrist over his mouth, a disgusting display of domesticity at its worst. Isabel crinkled her nose at him, kicking off her shoes and tucking them against the wall before padding her way toward the couch.

“So,” she said instead of a hello, because this was important. “I’ve never seen this couch before, is that weird?”

Connie laughed, shaking his head as he did so, his shoulders twitching with trembling kind of enjoyment that might have partially come from the fact everyone in the room seemed to be in t-shirts. Isabel was in three layers, how the hell were they not cold?

“They carry it down into the basement when there are parties,” Sasha explained. She had a bowl of her own, bigger than Eren’s and still full of steaming noodles, and she spoke around a mouthful, somehow managing to speak clearly and without any hint of a slurp. Isabel blinked at her, a little awed.

“They carry it down the stairs,” she echoed. She eyed the couch, a big ugly yellow thing that looked soft as all hell. She actually kind of wanted to sleep on it, even though it was barely two in the afternoon. It was just that kind of couch, giving off the sweet siren call of an unnecessary nap to avoid life’s problems. Eren laughed a little, wiggling in his hoard of blankets like a king, and Isabel wanted to wrinkle her nose at him, but she couldn’t.

“They carry that thing down the stairs for every party,” she muttered, baffled and impressed. “I cannot fucking believe.” She shook her head, unbuckling her coat quickly and tossing it away. She probably would have felt bad about that, about leaving her things everywhere, but Jean was already dropping her bag by the wall and shedding his hoodie as well, the house bleeding warmth back into her bones, and the lure of the couch called.

“Why do you think we conveniently only show up when the party is in full swing,” Eren laughed. Sasha and Connie snickered with him, Connie focused intently on what looked like the new Black Ops Zombies game while Sasha wriggled, squirmed, and then twisted, planting herself in the corner of the couch to make room at Eren’s side.

Isabel’s chest did something funny and for a second she lingered in that moment, watching Sasha wiggle to the side to make room for her. She’d only talked to her a few times, danced with her once at a party held in this house, and suddenly she felt the urge to know her better. It would be nice to have someone not-Eren and not-Jean to hang out with.

(It would be even nicer to have a girl who wasn’t her never-there roommate too, but not because her roommate was bad or because Eren and Jean weren’t enough. Just. It would be nice, sometimes, to have someone to look at and roll her eyes at and have them grin and nod because boys.

So maybe she’d ask Sasha if she wanted to grab a coffee sometime or go shopping or something. Later. When there wasn’t a couch calling her name.)

Jean dropped to the ground next to Connie, talking about the game, asking questions about the levels and the changes from the last game since it was in fact the latest Black Ops. Connie answered in partial sentences, punctuated by grunts and half-bitten swears as zombies tried again and again to corner and kill him, and where he didn’t answer, Sasha filled in the blanks. Eren, however, was looking at her, expression going soft, the sight almost as welcome as the ugly couch. She wandered over, coming around the side of the couch behind Eren’s head, biting her lip on a grin as he craned to watch her walk around. She paused beside Connie, though he scooted forward without prompting to let her by. She laughed sheepishly, realizing she should have climbed over Jean instead of this, stepping carefully behind Connie and climbing onto the couch, tucking herself neatly against Eren’s warm side.

She fit neatly there, against Eren’s side, head tucked against his throat as he lifted the blankets to let her burrow underneath. She huffed, digging her toes, frozen inside of her socks, against his leg, laughing a little when he hissed at the way she immediately began leeching his body warmth from him, and as she settled there, squirming to find a position that didn’t dig her elbow into his side, she felt her chest constrict and her shoulders unwind. As the final step to getting truly comfy enough to fall asleep, she dug her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it to text her brother quickly before she forgot.

(I’m gonna sleep on the couch Eren’s friends hide in the basement during parties, talk to you later!!! was a text phrased to be as horrifying as utterly possible on purpose, okay. That was half the fun of texting Levi so frequently now that she was back at school; seeing how many baffling things she could text him before he broke and called her to fuss. It was adorable how often he cracked immediately, though she knew that since she said she was going to sleep, he wouldn’t call until he heard from her again.

It was really sweet and really nice, having Levi there. She still missed him, but knowing he was just a few clicks away was really reassuring. He was, after all, her big brother.

And while sometimes Eren was a good substitute, there was really nothing like the real thing fussing at her for worrying him so much.)

“Here,” Isabel said, handing the phone over to Eren once she was done. Eren had been not-so-sneakily staring at her screen as she sent the message, as he sometimes did, which Isabel found amusing. He could have just asked about her brother and sometimes he cracked (much like Levi with the texts), but other times he just lurked, staring intently and pretending he wasn’t like she didn’t have eyes and could see him.

Eren took the phone dutifully, flipping it end over end with a flick of his wrist like the showoff he was. Isabel rolled her eyes and pressed further against his side, already beginning to feel a little too warm in her hoodie, snuggled against his warm side under all these blankets, which was just fine for her. Melting to death was so much preferable to freezing to death if anyone asked her.

“Wake you if it rings?”

“Please and thank you,” she hummed. “And wake me for any and every time of food.”

“Aye aye,” Eren answered, laughing a little under his breath. The arm wrapped around her shoulders squeezed her gently against his side and she smiled, closing her eyes. She drifted off just as Connie finally died, Jean loudly declaring he was taking the next round for sure, and while it wasn’t the most soothing background, Eren’s laughter and the tremble of his voice in his chest was more than enough comfort to block out the rest.

-

Eren, as he had promised, woke Isabel up for pizza, once it had arrived, and after that she managed to stay away until the wee hours of the morning. She joined in on the video games, shouting to her heart’s content with someone sniped her in the back, since they were in a house and not a dorm and could finally be as loud as they liked. There was a lot of name calling and bickering, sodas and beers and a few rounds of shots putting everyone in a good mood, and before she knew it Isabel found herself waking up a second time, from a nap she hadn’t realized she’d been taking.

The room was dark as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes to see that she was curled up in the corner of the couch. The room was silent around her, the windows not yet lit by the sun, and she frowned, hair tickling her neck as she looked around trying to figure out what had woken her. She wasn’t hungry and she didn’t need to go to the bathroom, so there must have been a sound…

Isabel shifted, pushing the blankets that someone had piled around her off and swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. Her phone was sitting on the floor next to her and she picked it up, wincing a little as the screen lit up to reveal it was just past six in the morning. The house around her was quiet and as she crept around she found that the downstairs area was empty, the kitchen messy but silent. Isabel huffed, crossing her arms as she tip toed her way around, suddenly feeling very much like she was in a horror movie, wishing like hell Eren hadn’t left her alone.

A shiver traced her spine at the thought, following by another and another, until suddenly Isabel realized she wasn’t just scared, she was cold. She trembled, curling in on herself as she tried to figure out what was going on. Finally she turned the corner, spotting the back door open a crack, letting the cold creep in unchecked.

“I’m going to die,” she whispered, but she crept closer, peering out the window to try and see if she could see anything. The sky was lightening, a pale purple color bleeding across the distant clouds as the sun rose, and it shed a little light on the backyard, which was-

Covered in snow.

“Oh my god,” Isabel breathed. No wonder it was so fucking cold, but at the same time something in her chest clenched. She’d never seen snow and before she knew it she found herself on the porch, in her long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks, hand stretching out toward the snow on the railing. She touched it cautiously, heart in her throat, and swallowed back a noise of surprise, because it was cold and surprisingly firm and just so odd. She dragged her fingers across the railing, feeling the cold burn her fingers as she knocked the snow down to the ground and watched it fall, the powered tumbling right into the indentations left in the shape of footprints below.

Oh god I’m dead, Isabel thought, jerking her head up and stumbling back a step, heart pounding in her throat as she realized there was someone in the fucking yard. She bit her tongue on a scream, almost dropping her phone from her free hand until she realized with a jolt she fucking knew the back of that head.

It was Eren.

Eren, just standing out in the fucking snow, head tipped back to the sky as it flushed pink above them both. Isabel’s breath caught in her throat, the words that had been crawling on the tip of her tongue halting suddenly as that same itch from before burned and twitched at her numb fingers. He was bundled up in his coat and scarf, hair dusted with powdery snow he’d been outside so long, and with his back to Isabel all she could see was the line of his shoulders and the slope of his neck.

She wanted to take a picture of him, to capture this moment, the way she had been dying to with Jean at the finals party, the way she sometimes itched to with strangers on the bus and with the sky at noon. Most times she pushed the itch back, but this was Eren and snow and he’d been really encouraging and supportive of her photography class during the past month. It was only with a little hesitation she opened up her phone, fingertips tingling faintly as she pulled up Instagram with a tap of her thumb. Eren didn’t move, unsuspecting and probably lost in his thoughts, something that probably wasn’t good for him, so she was going to make this quick.

She snapped the picture just as the sky bloomed with orange and as much as the urge pulled at her to play with the filters and lighting and the various settings available, she actually liked the way it turned out instead, with the purple-pink-orange flush in the sky bleeding just enough light onto Eren that he wasn’t just a dark shape lurking in the snow, but a person, dusted in snow that seemed to glow a little around him. She typed up a caption with half a mind, eyes already sliding back up to rest on Eren’s form. Once the picture was uploaded fully she shoved the phone in her back pocket and stooped down, scraping her hands through the snow with a shiver, pressing her teeth together to try to keep them from rattling audibly as she tried to pack it together, the way people did on TV.

It was definitely harder than it looked on TV, snow crumpling between her fingers and the thing coming out lopsided, but in the end it was worth it when she reared back and lobbed it. It soared through the air with nary a sound and then smacked into Eren’s shoulders with an audible splat, causing him to stumble a step forward before he whirled, a look on his face so gob smacked and startled Isabel burst into laughter right there on the back porch.

“That’s what you get for leaving the door open and freezing me awake,” she called, not caring if the noise from outside woke the others inside the house, wherever they were. Her socks were soaking and she was shivering so hard she could barely stand still, but Eren’s expression of shock melted into a surprised grin, his eyes sparkling in the barely there sunlight, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest as she stumbled forward, ducking for more snow as Eren’s grin slid sideways into a smirk.

“You’re going to regret that, Izzy-bell,” Eren taunted, scooping up his own handful of snow. This wouldn’t last long at all, there wasn’t enough snow for that and Isabel wasn’t wearing shoes, let alone a coat, but she didn’t care; Eren threw his snowball, much more expertly made than hers had been, and Isabel shrieked. She dove out of the way as the rest of the world fell to the side, sliding from her shoulders until she was weightless as Isabel scrambled to defend herself in her first snowball fight ever.

Chapter Text

“Oi,” Eren said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the bed. Jean hummed at him, bent over the desk he still insisted on using. Eren’s desk was clean, yes, and technically could have been used for writing this paper, but that meant an uncomfortable desk chair and more neck pain than he was willing to put up with. His bed, meanwhile, had pillows and he wasn’t giving that shit up.

“You got a minute?”

“Yeah, what’s up,” Jean asked. He didn’t pick up his head, fingers still tucked inside his trig book, but Eren knew he was listening. “You need me to proof something?”

“I need you to shoot me,” Eren muttered. He dragged his hands down his faces, fingertips scratching at his cheek absently as Jean laughed softly from below. “But, since that’s kind of fuckin’ illegal, can you make sure this is even in English anymore?”

Jean laughed again, louder this time, and then shook his head, sticking his pencil in his trig book to keep his place before flipping it closed. He cracked his knuckles and then ran his hands through his hair, glancing up at Eren, amusement a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Jean agreed. He tapped at the touch pad on his laptop, bringing the screen to life. “Email me it and I’ll take a look.”

“Already done,” Eren groaned. He cracked his neck to one side and then the next, sighing a little in relief as the tension bled out of his shoulders for a second. Their dorm was vaguely chilly, though not near as bad as it had been last year, and he shivered a little as he straightened, the blanket he’d tucked around his shoulders sliding off. His eyes were burning and he rubbed at them tiredly, feeling grit in the corners despite the fact he’d been awake for hours.

Keys clicked on Jean’s laptop and for a second Eren stared blankly at the floor, head an empty space. He was so tired, barely a month back into school (well, a month and a half, sort of, which was a month and a half too fucking long already) and he was already ready to throw back in the towel.

Towel. Huh, Eren thought tiredly. That wasn’t a half bad idea.

“I,” Eren said, “am going to shower.”

“Thank you for announcing your every action. Don’t forget to remind me when you shit and pass gas too.”

Eren threw a pillow at the back of Jean’s head, but he laughed anyway as he wriggled to the edge of the bed and swung carefully down. The pillow missed, knocking off the edge of the desk and landing harmlessly on the floor and he stepped over it to get to his dresser, pulling out clothes and tucking them under his arm as he made his way toward the bathroom. He prayed that it was empty and that their suitemates’ weren’t using it so that he could, because a shower sounded fucking heavenly at this moment and he didn’t know if he could withstand any more disappointment.

It was empty and he was able to shower, blissfully in peace, the stress of schoolwork far away.

Or, really, not so far away. It lurked, always in the back of his mind, a ticking clock he wasn’t sure he was going to catch. If he didn’t decide a major within the next two months he was going to be in the biggest shitfest of his life, not only with his father but with his advisor too. He really, really wasn’t looking forward to it, was probably just going to default back on an art degree just to avoid making an Actual Decision, but even that would mean taking more studio classes, dredging up the creativity he had once been able to use and now sat numbly at his useless fingers just out of reach.

Everything felt just out of reach, if he was going to be honest. Everything he considered was just- too much or too far or too hard, things he was too tired for or things he was too short tempered for. He’d considered everything in the past year and a half, every option and counter option and course and class, every fucking possible future he could have and it all came out the same fucking way.

Empty and hollow and fucking pointless.

Eren wasn’t even free in the fucking shower. All he did anymore was stew in his own fucking head, the hot water beating down on his shoulders as he went over for the eight hundred thousandth time how he’d turned out so fucking useless. The only good goddamn thing he could do anymore was throw a punch.

Which, inevitably, brought him back to staring at his hands, healed though they were from the beginning of January and the sick way his stomach turned at the memory.

He was just a thing of rage and failure, when it came right down to it.

Not that anyone would be surprised about this outcome. Everyone had seen it coming, which chafed in a different way, scraping him raw and empty, leaving him heavy limbed and tired as the water ran cold over his head. He got out of the shower a few seconds later, hair washed, clean enough that he was out of excuses to not give his school work another try. He dried off and dressed, padding out of the bathroom and into the dorm room with the towel thrown over his head as he towel-dried his hair.

“So,” he said, kicking at the pile of shoes in his way as he lifted his head. “What’s the verdict? Can it be saved?”

“Can what be saved,” Isabel asked. Eren jumped at the sight of her, curled up at his desk, a huge ass box at her feet and her laptop in the space where he should have been working. He wheezed a little at the surprise, only managing to keep from yelping by curling his fingers tighter in the towel still in his hand, and from his spot at his own desk Jean shot him a knowing grin.

“Eren’s paper,” Jean answered, “and yeah, it’s fine. Makes sense to me, so you should be good to submit it if you’re done.”

Eren blinked, not having expected that. He squinted at Jean, but he knew the other wouldn’t bullshit something like this or blow smoke up Eren’s ass for no reason, so he swallowed, rough and surprised, before nodding. “Thanks,” he muttered, feeling a little lopsided. His down-spiral thoughts in the shower seemed a little dramatic in the news that his essay wasn’t complete garbage.

“No problem,” Jean said, shrugging and turning back to his laptop. His trig book was closed completely and tucked under his notebook, which meant he’d finally finished that too. Maybe dinner was in order, to celebrate another day of homework finished.

That was a thing always worth celebrating, okay. Fuck homework.

“Now that you’re here,” Isabel exclaimed. She whirled around in Eren’s chair, cross legged with her hair in two little buns on top of her head that bounced as she turned. Eren cocked an eyebrow at Jean and Jean shrugged, smiling a little like you know how Izzy-bell is.

“Levi sent me a package!”

“Yeah,” Eren said, glancing pointedly down at the box sitting at the foot of his desk. It was already opened and large enough to be a little mind blowing, but maybe that was just because Eren had never received a care package from home while at college. “It’s all you’ve been talking about since he told you he sent it two days ago. It finally came then?”

Isabel stuck her tongue out at him, wriggling around in (shockingly enough) her own hoodie as Jean huffed a laugh behind her. “Yes,” Isabel answered primly, bending down and flipping over the flaps of the box more dramatically than strictly necessary. “And he sent you both something, you sour sulks.”

“He what,” Eren shrieked. He could feel his skin prickly from embarrassment as Isabel’s lips pursed, her eyes glittering with mirth as he flushed pink, shivering a little as his wet hair dripped on his neck.

“Levi sent something for you and Jean,” she said, like it was easy, like it made sense. Eren wondered if the bathroom door had accidentally lead him to the Twilight Zone. Why the fuck would Levi send them shit?

“Am I dreaming,” Eren asked, baffled down to his toes. He faintly felt the towel drop from his fingers, but he didn’t bother worrying about that now. He’d pick it up later.

“Well, that depends,” Isabel answered, pulling something out of the box. “Do you dream about my brother sending you presents often, Eren?”

“Shut up,” Eren squeaked, regretting everything. Jean was dying, shaking with a laugh that scrunched up his nose and bent him over his desk. “I- is that for me?”

Isabel’s lips curled, coy and terrible, oh god Eren hated her, he hated everything, why was this-

“Yep,” she answered, tossing it at him. “Catch!”

Eren screamed. It wasn’t dignified and it wasn’t quiet, but he didn’t care; he was too busy scrambling to catch the thing that was tumbling through the air at him and he did, tripping over his own feet for a second before he slammed his palms around it and cradled it to his chest. Isabel and Jean’s laughter was loud and light, bouncing around the room like a couple of colorful bouncy balls as he bent his head and blinked at the heart container cradled in his hands, a picture of Darth Vader on the front.

Breathing was optional, apparently, because Eren peered down at the Star Wars Valentine’s chocolate and couldn’t remember how that function was done. It wasn’t helped along by the realization that there was a note on the box, a sticky note with a little piece of tape holding it in place.

Thanks for punching my boss, the note said, in tiny neat little letters, it’s the most I had smiled at work in years. He’s all healed now, but if you ever want to take a swing at him again, be my guest. Hope you like the chocolate – L.

(Something in the vicinity of Eren’s heart clenched in his chest, squeezing his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. He was dizzy and caught in the gravitational pull of the neat little note, taped so carefully to this box of chocolate he had never expected. Faintly he could hear Isabel handing Jean his chocolate, their voices muffled and distorted like Eren was underwater, but he didn’t care. His fingers clenched around the heart shaped box and his eyes burned with the knowledge that for whatever fucking reason, inescapable to him as it was, he’d made this man he had never met smile with his fuck up.

And if he made someone smile, well. Maybe, just possibly…

Maybe it wasn’t such a fuck up after all?)

Fuck, Eren thought. His mind was blank; he was drawing up absolutely nothing witty to say about this box of chocolates in his hand. It wasn’t like it was actually Valentine’s Day, that had been last week, but still. Chocolates. In his hand. From Isabel’s brother.

What the fuck.

“Aw, what, why don’t I have a note,” Jean said and then suddenly the box of chocolates was out of Eren’s grip and being closely examined by his terrible, no-good, horse-faced roommate. And, in light of recent chest-clenching feelings, well, Eren didn’t think he could really be blamed for tackling the bastard to the ground and snatching the box back, ears burning red as they crashed into the ground.

Jean however did not take lightly to being tackled. He never did, Eren reflected, as the chocolate was smacked out of his hands and Jean clawed at his shoulders, shouting. Stupid horseface.

“Aw,” Isabel said, rising from the chair and sidestepping their tangled tussle with ease, swiping up the chocolate as she went. “You blushed, that’s so cute. I’m definitely sending this to Levi.”

Eren froze, jerking so hard he kneed Jean in the gut without meaning to. “Iz,” he hissed, trying to scramble out of his wheezing roommate’s arms, but Jean wasn’t having it, wrestling him into a headlock instead. Eren considering biting him, but he knew Jean would bite him back and he wasn’t looking to explain teeth marks to whatever poor bastard who asked.

“What,” Isabel asked, shrugging. She tapped on her phone another couple seconds and then slipped it in her pocket, batting her eyelashes angelically at him as she did so. “He deserves to know his package was appreciated by all, doesn’t he?”

Eren’s face burned and his heart raced, faster than it did at the gym every other morning when they went, faster than he thought it had ever beat in his goddamn life, and he felt-

(Alive, he marveled.

He felt alive.)

“Ugh,” Eren groaned, going limp in Jean’s hold, letting his roommate smack him (lightly) in the ribs as payback for the kneeing before he crawled up off the ground and extended his hand for his box of chocolates. Isabel returned it, smiling softly as she did so, and he rolled his eyes and grinned back at her to let her know he was okay.

“Don’t worry, baby boy,” Isabel said, patting his shoulder as he passed her by, going toward his bed where his phone was still sitting by his laptop. “It was a very good picture of you, y’know, with your hair all mused; it’s very attractive look you pull off well.”

“Thanks,” he answered dryly, climbing up onto his bed and hauling his blankets up around his shoulders. His essay was done, he had chocolates, as well as a note from Isabel’s brother (still stuck to his chocolates, thank fuck, and not crumpled somewhere underneath Jean’s ass), and he felt lighter, somehow. Not as heavy as he had in the shower and when he glanced around the room, Isabel settling back at his desk and Jean straightening stuff on his, the room looked brighter.

It was so stupid, but Eren didn’t care. His chest clenched, fingers tightening around his box of chocolates while his throat tightened at the thought that he’d gotten something in a care package. Technically. Sorta.

Fuck, Eren thought. He scooped up his phone and opened the app before he could chicken out, carefully peeling the sticky note off the surface of the heart shaped box, folding the tape over itself even more carefully. He angled the phone quickly, taking a deep breath to steady the slight tremble in his hand as nerves raced up and down his spine, hoping no one else in the room was paying attention to him even though they’d see it, they fucking followed him, but he didn’t care.

(Isabel had been teasing, saying that Levi deserved to know his gift was appreciated. But still, Eren thought, he did. Eren appreciated this so much and Levi deserved to know that.

Even if it cost him a heart attack at the prospect of making contact or something ridiculous like that.)

He didn’t take the time to select a filter for the image, letting the afternoon winter sunlight and the white lights of their dorm throw shadows across his duvet, Darth Vader’s helmet in sharp relief, the corner of Eren’s laptop peaking in from the side of the picture. It wasn’t the best Eren had ever taken, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take eighteen images of his goddamn box of chocolates.

Or, well, he thought he wasn’t, but before he could add a caption he changed his mind, tapping quickly at the top left-hand corner to backtrack to take a new image. He hated himself as he did so, his face prickling with heat, and six fucking photos later (and more filter changes than Eren could keep track of), he finally had something he was satisfied with.

Now he just had to.

Y’know.

Write the fucking caption.

“Eren,” Isabel said, grabbing his knee and startling him enough that he nearly threw his phone off the bed. She was suddenly there, standing on Jean’s bed and reaching toward him, hair still in her little buns, which bounced as she tipped her head to the side. She made a face, like she’d said his name before, and he tried not to fidget guiltily, tried not to say something dumb like what do I say to your brother or do you think he likes me because god knows he’d die of embarrassment for sure.

Instead he cleared his throat, letting his screen go dark with inactivity, fingers perfectly still on the edges of his phone case.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna go to the diner for dinner,” Isabel asked. Her eyebrows were bent, their usual adorable arch furrowed in worry. Some of the tension bled out of Eren, his mouth twitching up in a smile at the way she was concerned about him. His smile only grew when he realized Jean was positioned behind her, mouth pressed in a thin line that meant he was concerned too.

“Fuck yeah,” he answered, clearing his throat around a lump of emotions. He had good friends. Embarrassing friends, sometimes, but still. “I’m dying for a burger, man, let’s go.”

Isabel’s eyes danced across his face, narrowing a little in consideration before her worry bled away, leaving her grinning with sparkling eyes as she bounced down to the floor. “Then c’mon,” she laughed, shaking her head as she went to go put on her scarf and shoes. Eren rolled his eyes and slid to follow her, unlocking his phone for just a second so that he could post the picture before finding actual clothes for braving the cold.

@corporalcleansalot the Force is strong with these chocolates, thank you!!

(“If you start flirting with Isabel’s brother via Instagram, I’m unfollowing you,” Jean told him at dinner, mouth half full of fries. Isabel snorted a laugh into her milkshake while Eren boiled with embarrassment, kicking at Jean’s shins under the table as he clutched his phone to his chest.

@TheJaegerKid glad to hear those were the chocolates you were looking for. Enjoy.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” Isabel interjected, smoothly swiping some fries from both of their plates and plunking them down into her milkshake. Eren’s face burned even more, his throat closing up to leave him speechless. “Besides,” she pointed out, gesturing with a fry at Eren’s traitorous roommate, “you and Armin are so much worse on Twitter, don’t even.”

Jean probably turned pink and tried to defend his own shameless media flirting, but Eren wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy hunching over his phone, staring at the comment from Levi, his fingers twitching with the urge to reply, to message him directly, to do something.

In the end he put his phone in his pocket and focused instead on his burger. Levi was probably only being polite, anyway.

But polite or not, he’d sent Eren chocolate and he was going to ride that emotional high for the rest of the week, he was sure.)

Chapter Text

“So,” Eren said, as she was posing for a post-gym selfie the Sunday morning two weeks after Levi’s care package, her hair sticking to her sweaty cheeks as the early morning sunlight reflected off the windows. She shifted, trying to get it to halo her in the camera, and in the end she had to move to Eren’s other side to get the perfect angle. He watched the whole thing, eyes nonjudgmental, hair sticking up in sweaty spikes and shirt stained with disgusting sweat splotches.

“So,” Isabel prompted, grinning for the photo and then immediately ducking over the screen to squint at filters. She was paying attention, honest, it was just- the gym was hard but they’d been going three times a week every week since school at started again, as per their New Year’s Resolution, and Isabel was really fucking proud of that. Her arms were starting to look fucking fly, okay. Bragging selfies were a total must.

“You going to take a selfie for my brother to like,” she teased, just as Eren opened his mouth. He clicked it shut again, his cheeks going pink for a reason that had nothing to do with their exertion at the gym that morning. Isabel laughed, smirking at the older student as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms with a huff.

(Eren had been livelier, since Levi’s package had arrived. He’d always been quick to laugh, or to smile, or to drag someone in for a quick hug, but now there was something about him, like he didn’t carry as much tension inside himself. Sometimes Isabel found him smiling down at his textbooks, which was the most drastic change; Eren never smiled down at his textbooks. He hated his classes and his schoolwork, bemoaned miserably about them all the time. Isabel hadn’t blamed him for that, but since receiving – and devouring – the chocolates, his schoolwork didn’t seem to send him into a funk as easily as it had before.

Isabel hadn’t mentioned it and neither had Jean, but she knew the other boy had noticed. They’d been sharing glances for the past two weeks, both too relieved at Eren’s change to risk bringing it up and ruining everything.

Whatever, Isabel thought, whenever Eren’s strange shift toward happiness crossed her mind. Gift horses and mouths and all that, right?)

“So,” Eren tried again, rolling his eyes to hide his honest to God blush at the mention of Levi recent habit of liking every single one of Eren’s selfies within an hour of him posting them. He didn’t even like her selfies that fast! So rude, that brother of hers. “You going home for spring break?”

Exhaustion was the only thing keeping Isabel from going stiff as a board, prickling and uncomfortable with the question. She knew why Eren was asking, had been expecting the question for a couple of days, but that didn’t mean she wanted to answer it. She made a show of avidly playing with her filters, squinting at the screen and moving her phone around to see how it looked three degrees brighter in the Reyes filter. Eren said nothing, just leant against the wall, waiting her out.

(It reminded her starkly of sandy hair, of curling smiles and husky laughs and patient, patient eyes. Slim shoulders, but strong ones, ones she’d hung off enough to know how they felt when he picked her up, swung her around and trembled with a laugh that twined around her name.

Eren was nothing like Farlan, but shoulders pressed against the wall with his foot kicked up behind him, she was reminded of the other man so strongly her head spun.)

Finally she sighed, rolling her eyes as she used both hands to type out a quick careless caption, posting the photo and ridding herself of her faux distraction. “No,” she answered shortly, watching Eren’s mouth twitch guiltily at the tightness in her voice. “But you knew that already.”

The sweaty, broad shouldered, dark haired college boy sighed, shoulders rising and falling, fingers tapping against his bicep as he pushed off the wall and followed her out of the gym. They didn’t have any gym bags or changes of clothes, choosing instead to just go back to their respective dorms and change there instead. Eren usually walked her back to her dorm first and today was no exception, uncomfortable topic of conversation or not.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry,” Eren said. It was only around eight thirty in the morning, their gym sessions starting usually around six fifty and going for an hour and a half. Isabel had run on the treadmill a little longer than usual today, figuring Eren would use this time to try and make her talk about the phone call she’d gotten earlier that week, about the way she’d been-

Well, mopey is what Levi would have called it, but she didn’t think Eren would ever accuse her of something like that. Sad was probably the word he would use and that in of itself made her heart clench a little.

Eren was a good friend. He didn’t deserve to be snapped at for caring, she reflected with a sigh.

“No, it’s okay,” Isabel said, shaking her head. Her pigtails brushed her jaw as she moved and she shivered a little, the cold bitter winter air feeling refreshing against the cooling sweat on her body. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Eren shrugged. He was holding himself like he wanted to put his hands in his pockets, but he was wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Instead his hands dangled by his sides instead, his phone held, headphones wrapped around it, in his left hand. “Really, Izzy-bell, it’s okay-“

“Levi hadn’t told Farlan I wasn’t going home,” Isabel said in a rush. Eren stopped talking so quickly the click of his teeth was audible between them. “He- he was excepting me to come home at the end of this week. He didn’t know.”

(Isabel had left her phone for just a minute the day after the package had arrived, going down the hall and around the corner of Eren’s dorm to the common room to ask Reiner about a class, get his opinion on if she should take it next semester. She’d been reaching for the doorknob on her way back when she realized there was music playing from Eren and Jean’s room, loud and familiar.

“He’s my best friend, best of all best friend, do you have a best friend too-“

She could have sworn her stomach dropped straight through the ground to plummet three floors down in the lobby of the dorm building. She didn’t really remember slamming the door open, just remembered the image of Eren and Jean falling from their perches on the bottom bunk, both having had been angled toward her ringing phone, which had been in Eren’s hand. It had flown out of his grip as he’d fallen in surprise and she’d scrambled to get it from the ground, rushing to answer it.

“Hey,” Farlan had said from the other end, the second she’d picked up. He sounded a little tense and Isabel had swallowed, faintly registering that she was shaking. “You okay? I called like three times and you didn’t answer.”

“I’m fine,” Isabel had said. Her voice had sounded- strange. Breathless. Small. “I’m fine, I just left my phone in the other room when I went to go talk to someone, sorry. What’s up?”

Eren and Jean had fled that day, pushing each other of the room without their hoodies. She’d found them in the common room once she’d finished the call, boxing Reiner onto the couch, avoiding her eyes like they’d done something wrong.

They hadn’t. But Isabel hadn’t told them that.)

“Ah,” Eren said, after a dozen steps taken with the weight of their silence wrapped around their shoulders keeping them just fucking toasty. “I’m sorry.”

Isabel shrugged and felt her shoulders unwind, the tension she’d been holding since that call finally falling free. She’d wanted to say something, but she hadn’t known how, and now with it out in the open, she felt like she could breathe again.

“It’s not big deal,” she said, and she found she meant it, mostly. The thought made her smile despite the memory of Farlan’s reaction. He hadn’t been happy to hear she wouldn’t be home until May. He’d raised his voice a little, kept asking why again and again, and she hadn’t had a real answer for him. She’d told him that she didn’t want to make them drive out, didn’t want to take a bus.

(Really, she just didn’t want to see him. Two months and sometimes when she thought of him she still felt the stairs in Erwin’s house under her, saw mistletoe when she closed her eyes.

It was easier to just wait to go home, hope another couple months would ease the pain even more.

Levi had seemed to understand, which meant Hanji had probably said something. Isabel was honestly too relieved to be mad at the idea.)

“It’s only a week,” she had said, shrugging from her spot on the floor of Eren and Jean’s silent, empty dorm room. “May will come before you know it.”

(He’d sounded. Sad.

She hadn’t really thought about how her leaving could have affected him, didn’t really think he’d notice she was gone at all, outside of the house being quiet. The thought that he could miss her haunted her, now, another pain clenching her ribs around her chest when she thought of him.

She sort of wished he’d just sent her a text instead.)

“If you say so,” Eren said, shrugging with her. There was still a tightening around his eyes, concern or maybe she’d upset him, and she bit her lip, starting to feel bad that she hadn’t just said this days ago. But after a second he smiled, the tension bleeding out of him as he glanced over at her, and she smiled back, bumping his shoulder with hers gently.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around for spring break, though,” Eren added quietly.

“Yeah,” Isabel answered, just as quietly. “Me too.”

Eren bumped into her shoulder again, this time sticking close enough that she could feel the cooling, sticky sweat on his arm. She grimaced and he laughed, the breeze biting into her exposed skin, making her pick up her pace as her dorm building came into sight.

“So when are your lot coming in,” she asked, rubbing her hands up her arms, the case of her phone dragging up her forearm. It did nothing to keep her warm, but the cold was only just starting to become unbearable, the high of the day almost fifty. Once upon a time she probably would have wept in relief, but to be honest she missed the brief snow that they had had. It had been freezing, but also gorgeous, and she’d never heard Eren laugh so easily as when he was knee deep in the stuff and slugging lopsided chunks of it at Jean’s head.

“My lot,” Eren echoed, mock offended. He smiled though, small but lopsided, and his eyes slid out of focus as he shrugged his shoulders. “Friday night? Saturday morning? I don’t know for sure, I’ll have to talk to them soon. Armin snagged a quick cheap flight, I think, and Mikasa and Annie are driving, so Armin will probably beat them by a couple hours.”

“And they booked a hotel? For the whole week?”

Eren shook his head, hair flopping around. They ducked inside Isabel’s building, lingering in the lobby to talk. She would have invited Eren up, let him flop in her desk chair or something, but her roommate was a notoriously cranky sleeper. She also, for some ridiculous reason, didn’t seem to like Eren. It was baffling and one of the big reasons Isabel was considering asking for a roommate change next fall semester.

“Marco’s going home, as are Reiner and Bertholdt, though I think they’re sticking around for at least a day to say hi to Annie, so we’re going to crash there with Jean and housesit. Bertholdt and Marco seem to trust us enough, so as long as we don’t break anything, it should be fine.”

Isabel blinked, shifting on her feet. She hadn’t known that Marco was going home, or that Reiner and Bertholdt were going home after seeing Annie. She bit her lip, shifting her phone from hand to hand, and Eren watched her, quiet and patient, a small smile playing around his lips.

“You can crash there too, if you want,” he offered after a second, when she didn’t say anything. “It’ll be easier than going back and forth between campus and the house to hang with everyone. If you want to, that is.”

Isabel grinned sheepishly, her shoulders hunching up to her ears a little. “I’d, um. Like that, yeah. Thanks.” Eren laughed, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder gently, his eyes bright and knowing as he did so.

“No problem,” he said softly. “Catch you later, though; I need a shower like a motherfucker.”

“Me too,” Isabel agreed, nose wrinkling as she registered how gross she felt, cooling sweat and exhaustion making everything sticky and heavy. She shuddered for effect and Eren laughed, waving goodbye as he turned to jog out the front door, breaking into an easy run in the direction of his dorm once he was outside. Isabel watched him go before turning, heading for the elevator so that she could shower, catch a few more hours of sleep.

In the elevator she played with her phone, turning it over in her hands before sighing quietly and unlocking it. She sent a quick text to Eren, sorry for being weird the past couple of days. She hadn’t even gotten to her floor when he responded, his answer just as quick, just as easy. She sighed at his response (it’s okay, I understand, don’t worry about it) and shrugged, figuring she’d make it up to him later, maybe buy dinner or something.

She needed a reason, though, a reason he wouldn’t see through. Eren always seemed more than content to take responsibility for everything and everyone on his broad shoulders and bear it alone, which was ridiculous and stupid and absolutely going to be the death of him one day, Isabel was sure. So a reason, one Eren wouldn’t see through…

Well, she thought, there’s midterm studying.

She’d been putting off studying for her midterms the past week, but she wasn’t too concerned; the photography project of nature still-lives she’d been working on was done and so was the paper for her English class, so all she had was her European history class test to study for and the Biology test.

She texted Eren before climbing in the shower, careful to make sure her phone was on silent to avoid the wrath of her roommate. His reply was waiting for her when she got out, making it easier to breathe, a smile curling her lips as she crawled under her blankets, content to nap until noon, the true lazy Sunday way.

8:41AM
To: Eren
hey can u help me w/ studyin this afternoon??? I’ll pay for dinner ;)

9:01 AM
From: Eren
of course! tho Jean’s going to be better for the history stuff than I am. I can help with the bio stuff tho, thank god u didn’t actually take chem. see u on the other side of this nap Izzy-Bell! ;)

Chapter Text

“Are you sure,” Isabel asked. It was the first thing she’d said since they’d gotten to the airport fifteen minutes beforehand, her voice not quiet or shy, as Eren had half expected, by loud and vibrant in the crowd. She pressed close against his side as she spoke, craning her head to look at him. “Are you really sure we’re at the right terminal-thing?”

Eren tried not to laugh, biting his tongue as his shoulders trembled. “You’ve never been in an airport before, have you,” he asked. He got a smack on the arm in response, Isabel huffing so curtly her bangs flounced against her forehead. Eren laughed for real this time, his whole body shaking with it, and he swung his arm around her shoulders, hauling her close as he shook his head. He tossed his other arm around Jean’s shoulders as well and Jean was so tense and so nervous, he didn’t even bother to shake him off.

Yikes, Eren thought, a little bit giddily. Jean’s a mess.

The thought, cruel as it might have been, made his chest tight with a kind of warm contentment that felt like spring itself was blooming in his veins. Eren hadn’t been sure how he’d handle Jean’s thing for Armin (or Armin’s thing for Jean, apparently), but while Jean was a faintly shaking mess, the likes he had never been before (not even when he was crushing on Marco) Eren wasn’t worried.

“Eren,” Isabel said, pointedly. He laughed again, shaking his head at her insistence that he answer her question.

“Yes,” Eren responded, squeezing Isabel’s shoulder with his hand. “I am sure we are at the right area of baggage claim.” She huffed again, softer this time, and pressed her cheek against his shoulder, and when she sighed her breath danced warm against the collar of his t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold,” she asked. Another crowd was bubbling up from the terminal exits and Jean was going up on his tiptoes again, though a quick scan of the crowd told Eren it wasn’t Armin’s flight. His blonde nerdy friend was nowhere to be seen. The little redheaded freshman tugged on Eren’s short shirtsleeves, arching her eyebrows up at him as she did so.

“Nah,” Eren said, grinning down at her. “I feel great, thanks. Lovely weather we’re having.”

Isabel’s nose crinkled, twitching like a little rabbit’s. “It’s barely sixty,” she muttered, half under her breath. She had been bemoaning the lack of proper spring break weather since that morning, the forecast for the next week hovering in the mid-sixties at most. Eren snorted, rubbing his hand up and down her arm absently, and from the corner of his vision Isabel smiled, small but brilliant.

“So,” Eren said, turning his head to tease Jean instead. Armin’s plane should have just landed, which meant he should be coming out within the next ten minutes. This wasn’t the biggest airport Eren had ever been in, but it also wasn’t the smallest; it took a little time to get from the terminals to baggage claim, especially since the flight had looked pretty big.

Jean twitched at the tickle of Eren’s breath on his jaw, but said nothing. Eren grinned.

“Decided not to buy him a bushel of balloons,” Eren teased, waggling his eyebrows. Jean wasn’t looking at him, but he still must have seen, because suddenly Eren’s gut was full of Jean’s sharp elbow and a blush was spreading, pink as Valentine’s roses, across Jean’s face, all the way to his ears. Eren couldn’t help but laugh, shaking Jean with the arm around his shoulders, bumping their hips together and not minding how Jean continued to dig his elbow in his side, more and more painful and desperate by the second.

“Calm down,” Eren murmured. He couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s going to be alright.”

Jean sent him one quick glance out of the corner of his eye, one that showed off just how wide and terrified his eyes really were. They looked a little bugged out and if Eren was going to be honest, it really wasn’t Jean’s most attractive look.

“So how are you sure,” Isabel asked after Jean had gone back to craning his neck as the last of the previous crowd dispersed. Eren rolled his eyes at her curiosity, but shrugged as he answered anyway.

“Armin emailed me his flight information this morning,” he said. “He texted me a picture of his luggage too, it’s a red duffle bag.”

“Uh huh,” Isabel said. She was probably eying the conveyer belt at their side skeptically and Eren started to laugh, but cut off as another crowd poured out of the terminal exit and Jean once again rose on his tiptoes beside him. Eren shot Isabel a bemused look as she went on tiptoe as well, but her tiptoe was much more wobbly than Jean’s, most of her weight pressed against Eren’s hip and side as she craned to look.

“Here, shortie,” Eren said, handing over his phone. There was no passcode or anything, so she unlocked it with an easy swipe, bringing up his home screen. “Find the photo Armin sent of his duffle and keep an eye out for it. This should be his group.”

Jean made a strangled noise, stiffing impossibly under Eren’s arm. Eren squeezed him reassuringly as Isabel started tapping away at his phone, but Eren was focusing instead on the crowd, for the first time since they’d gotten there, eyes scanning for his short blonde childhood friend.

He almost didn’t notice Jean go breathless at his side, but the shudder that raced his body was a tell Eren couldn’t miss. “Is- is that him,” Jean asked, voice a whisper in the rumble of the crowd around them. His chin twitched, trying to indicate where in the crowd he was looking. Eren followed the direction, eyes darting everywhere, and finally landed on Armin, tired looking but smiling as his eyes met Eren’s.

It was such a dick move, really, but at the end of the day Eren had been feeling so good since that morning and couldn’t help but tease Jean just a little more. So when Jean twitched, like he was going to step forward, Eren threw himself forward in the crowd instead, bolting toward Armin with his arms in the air.

“Armin,” he cried, an imitation of what he thought Jean was probably doing internally, not that he’d tell him. Isabel started to laugh behind as Jean yelped, but Eren didn’t care.

(He really had missed Armin, to be honest. Armin with his bright eyes and sharp mind and terrible, terrible hair. His friend, since he was very small.

Today was like having the best parts of home come back to him, without having to step foot in his father’s house. It was enough to have him flying with glee.)

“Oh Armin,” Eren shouted. The crowd parted in front of him, airports used to this sort of scene. Armin’s face crinkled in confusion but he pressed forward, playing along, jogging toward him as well. The blonde’s snapback, tucked backward on his head and hiding his hair from view, nearly fell off as he moved, but he threw a hand up to pin it there as his laptop bag thumped against his leg. Eren pushed forward faster, waving his arms around as a snickering woman ducked out of his path. “Armin, oh how I’ve missed you!”

“Eren,” Armin laughed, his voice not quite a shout as they crashed together. It was an easy thing to scoop Armin into his arms, especially after two months at the gym, building up his strength bit by bit. Armin yelped in surprise, not expecting it, and Eren swung him around, like he did Isabel sometimes. Armin smacked at him, laughing, his eyebrows bent in confusion as Eren stumbled them to a stop, Armin’s feet crashing to the floor.

“Eren, what in the world,” Armin was saying, head craned to look up at him, their heights only a few inches apart, but enough to notice. Eren shrugged, grinning as the sound of Jean’s thundering steps approached them, winking before he moved out of the way to let Jean skid to a stop straight in front of Armin.

The change of Jean’s expression from twitchy and murderous to open mouthed with embarrassed surprise was honestly fucking hilarious, so much so that Eren bit his tongue on a laugh and had to turn away. He clapped his roommate and his childhood friend on their shoulders and then slipped away, jogging back to Isabel, who was looking small and betrayed by the increasingly crowded baggage claim station Armin’s luggage should turn up at.

“Sorry about that,” Eren said, curling his arm around Isabel’s shoulders again. She pressed against him with a vengeance. “I wanted to see Jean’s face if I beat him to Armin.”

“I thought he was going to shit himself,” Isabel muttered, shifting against his side. She was glancing at the pair talking quietly about fifty feet away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Eren felt his chest clench and he ducked his head, reaching up to ruffle Isabel’s loose hair fondly.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “He’s going to like you.”

Isabel huffed, shaking him off of her gently, but with dignity. “Everyone likes me,” she declared loudly, planting her hands on her hips, his daring little superhero. Eren loved his best friend. “Now, c’mon, let’s find his duffle and go gather those two so we can finally have lunch; I’m starving.”

“God, I know, right,” Eren said. He craned his neck, looking for a red duffle bag, and after a few seconds one started to wind its way around the carousel, big and red with a plastic Pokemon bag tag that had definitely seen better days; definitely Armin’s, without a doubt. Eren moved toward it, taking Isabel with him as gently as he could through the masses of people trying to retrieve their bags. “If someone hadn’t insisted we get here forever ago, we might have been able to snack before grabbing Armin, but no, horse-face was too nervous for his first date.”

Isabel dug her elbow into his side, much more gently than Jean had earlier, but with enough intent behind it to get her message across. “Be nice,” she chided him, slipping in between two people, a space much too small for Eren, and grabbing the bag in his stead. She didn’t even wobble when she picked it up, though Armin had warned him it was kind of heavy, since he’d packed gaming stuff as well as clothes, but apparently Eren wasn’t the only one stronger from their time at the gym, because she slipped back to his side without seeming to falter at all.

“Okay, easy part taken care of,” Eren murmured. He grinned, feeling his face hurt a little, his cheeks stinging from too much of a workout today, and Isabel rolled her eyes fondly as he turned toward where Jean and Armin were huddled down, back where Eren had left them.

Something in his expression must have given away his thoughts, because as he went to cup his hands around his mouth and yell hey, lovebirds! Isabel pretended to stomp on his foot, giggling as she did so.

“Don’t,” she hissed, snickering. Eren gestured expansively at the pair, both pink cheeked if he wasn’t mistaken, and he wasn’t, thank you, he had brilliant eyesight. Isabel gave him a Stern Look and for a second (just a second) he wondered if she’d picked up that expression from her brother. It was a look he imagined Levi would be good at, whatever he looked like.

(And oh, Eren wanted to know. Eren tried to imagine it, but it was hard without a hint. And he’d refused all hints, refused to dig through Instagram or Isabel’s Facebook for a picture of her older brother.

It had to be natural, okay. Eren wasn’t about to stalk this guy, just because he couldn’t control his overactive imagination.

But still, oh, did he want to know what the fuck Levi would look like, staring Eren down, a hint of a grin pressed tight between his lips. The idea drove him up the wall.

Curse his stubbornness to hell and back, but he wanted to know.)

“Hey,” Isabel shouted, her voice bounding off the ceiling, drawing people’s attention. She didn’t seem to mind, adding a, “Jean, c’mon,” when Jean refused to look at her.

Armin’s laughter was a faint thing, probably following something Jean said, low and unflattering if Eren knew him at all, and then they finally turned. Jean was pink cheeked and sour faced, Armin pinked cheeked but grinning as they made their way over, and Eren wished he’d had his phone, wanted to Snapchat the moment to Annie with some godawful caption.

Isabel, it seemed, had his back on that matter, because just as Jean and Armin got within reach she passed him back his phone, sliding him a sly look. He glanced at the screen, swiping his thumb across a photo of Isabel, Jean, and him all from the gym the previous week, and it revealed Snapchat, frozen with a picture of Jean and Armin walking side by side, shoulders almost brushing.

the love birds have landed, the caption read, complete with an airplane, the double heart, and two little yellow bird emojis. Eren grinned, tapping the arrow at the bottom and quickly selecting both Annie and Mikasa, as well as Isabel herself before he sent it for good, locking his phone with a shift of his thumb as Jean and Armin drew to a stop in front of them.

“So,” Jean said, Tough Guy voice in full affect. “If you two are done causing a scene?”

Isabel gasped, falling dramatically against Eren’s side. “Us,” she near shouted, and Eren laughed, shaking with the mirth. “Cause a scene?! How dare you suggest such a thing!”

Jean looked pained, cheeks turning pink, like this was some great big embarrassing thing that Armin wasn’t used to. Armin only laughed, rolling his eyes and pressing forward, and Eren tugged Isabel out of the way, Armin’s bag bumping both of their hips as she turned to follow Armin as he so confidently walked toward the parking lot in search of a car he’d never seen.

“Hi,” Armin said, glancing over to Isabel and grinning. “You’re Isabel, right?”

“Sure am,” Isabel said, voice light. She saluted with one hand, the other adjusting the strap of Armin’s bag, and Eren went ahead and swiped it from her, taking the weight of it on his shoulder instead. She shot him a look again, but rolled her eyes. Armin laughed at them both a little and Eren grinned even more.

“Jean said you guys haven’t eaten yet, right?”

“Nah,” Eren said, shaking his head as Isabel groaned loudly and dramatically at his side. “We wanted to make sure your flight didn’t arrive early or nothing, so we came first thing. You hungry?”

“Starved,” Armin said. “I’ll eat whatever, I don’t care, so long as it isn’t tofu or whatever. Jean?”

(Eren watched Jean blink, watched his expression- it didn’t melt, because that would mean it hadn’t been soft before, and it had been, soft around every edge, like some kind of kid-proof toy. What seemed to happen instead was Jean’s expression glowed, just a little, like the inside of a living room, lit by the afternoon light; everything warm until even the dust in the air glittered like a dream.

“You need to let him go,” Eren had said the year before. Jean’s face had been sickly pale, save for his eyes and his nose, both red with misery. Even his hair had drooped, hanging limp across his forehead.

He’d thought of the way Jean leapt every time Marco laughed, like a dog jerking on a short leash, and felt sick.

“You can do better, you know,” Eren had told him. “Love’s not supposed to be like this.”

Jean’s laugh had been hollow, weak enough it only had half a breath behind it at most. He’d put his head in his hands, rubbed at his eyes, and sighed.

“I think I liked it better when we didn’t get along,” he had muttered quietly. Eren had snorted and a smile had pulled Jean’s lips, giving some light back to his eyes that Eren hadn’t seen since Marco had turned him down.

Now, a year later as they stepped out of the airport and into the sunlight with Armin, everything about Jean was filled with light. He seemed to float, when Armin laughed, nothing jerky in his motions, nothing tense in his shoulders.

And Eren felt his chest unknot with relief, because this-

This was love, Eren thought. Or the beginnings of it, at least, and the idea made him excited.)

“You said something about craving a milkshake yesterday,” Jean responded. He clicked the key fob and Armin turned toward the car that flashed and beeped, grinning.

“I’d love a milkshake, but hopefully they sell more than that,” Armin teased. Eren laughed, the sound like a firework in his chest, and he was dimly aware of everyone turning to look at him, pausing in the middle of the parking lot barely ten feet from the car.

“Eren,” Armin asked, as Eren’s shoulders continued to shake. He couldn’t help it, he was just-

“Ignore him,” Isabel said, patting Eren’s shoulder to get him moving again. He swatted at her, but the overdone expression she was making, just so sympathetic, had him laughing again. “He’s been on Cloud Nine all morning since my brother left a comment on his haircut selfie.”

Eren’s laughter sputtered to a stop, turning into a squeak at the end as his swatting hand hastily tried to shove Isabel away. Jean was the one to laugh then, throwing his head back as Eren tried to deny that the Instagram comment had anything to do with his mood, since it didn’t.

“Uh-huh,” Armin said, and Eren knew that tone. Heat rose to his cheeks, itching down his neck, and Eren threw his arms in the air, doing his best to scowl.

Only, it was kind of hard to scowl, when now all he could think of was the comment.

“I hate you guys,” Eren muttered, huffing as Jean gestured Armin toward the front seat, making a pointed expression at Isabel and Eren. Isabel stuck her tongue out at Jean before brushing by Eren, bouncing up on her tiptoes for a second to brush a hand through his cut-this-morning hair.

“No you don’t,” she sing-songed as Eren popped the trunk to put Armin’s bag up. Armin lingered by his side, apparently content to leave his laptop bag in Jean’s trunk too, and for a minute it looked like he wanted to say something, catching Eren’s eye as he straightened.

But in the end Armin only smiled, small but bright, and let Eren take his laptop bag and put it in the trunk as well.

“I missed you,” Armin told him quietly. And Eren’s chest constricted, fondness for his childhood friend filling him to the brim. “And your haircut does make you look less scruffy, Isabel’s brother was right.”

That warm constricting affectionate feeling twisted, turning into a shift in his stomach as he groaned, reaching up to slam the trunk closed to hide how his cheeks itched and stung. His lips were still in a rebellion, still smiling even though his stomach rioted.

(Levi’s comment that morning on his post-haircut selfie had been you look much less scruffy now, it’s not a bad look on you. Eren had made some sort of embarrassing strangled noise and dropped his phone in the footwell of Jean’s car on the way to the airport.

The picture had only been up ten minutes by the time the comment had been made.

Levi was, officially, trying to kill him.)

“You were on the plane,” Eren protested, trying to fit as much of a whine into the statement as he could. Armin only smirked at him before ducking into the passenger seat and Eren threw himself into the back, buckling in with a great sulking show while Isabel rolled her eyes and Jean snorted before backing out of the parking space, gesturing at the radio and declaring loudly that Armin got to DJ on their way to the diner for lunch.

Eren and Isabel shared a look in the backseat and rolled their eyes at Armin’s quiet mutter of, “thank you, Jean.”

“Please tell me Mikasa and Annie aren’t going to be this unbearable,” Isabel whispered, leaning close until her breath tickled Eren’s cheek. Eren snorted and threw his arm around her, not caring about how the seatbelt got in the way.

“They’re going to be unbearable in different ways, don’t worry,” he promised. “You’ll see when they get in tonight.”

Isabel looked skeptical, but kept quiet, and the rest of the day passed lazily. They ate lunch and went back to Bertholdt’s house, where Armin played catch up with Reiner and was introduced to Colossal, who took to the blonde with the enthusiasm he held for all the guests he was allowed to meet. The afternoon passed, games and talk and furniture moving, and by the time the sky was dark, stars just barely coming out, there was a sound from the front year, the slamming of car doors, and Eren was on his feet without a thought.

“About time,” Reiner said, eyebrows arched as Eren scrambled around the couch, dumping his controller in the taller student’s lap as he passed him. “She must’a let Annie drive if it took them this long; Mikasa’s usually faster than that.”

Eren laughed, shaking his head as he made his way down the hall. “I’m telling her you said that,” he shouted, and Colossal yipped, running after him, bumping into his heels as he skidded in his socks to the front door, peering out the window in it as he flicked on the porch light. Through the window two shapes stood in the shadows in the driveway, one pale and blonde, the other tall and dark haired, both turning mid-stretch when the light came on.

“Get back, you minuscule mutt,” Eren murmured. He knocked the tiny dog back with his foot and then wrenched open the front door, slipping outside as the sounds of everyone else in the living room following him echoed down the hall, almost buried under the tiny mutt’s barks.

“Hey,” he shouted, even though both girls were already turning toward him. Despite the darkness he could see the curve of their smiles, bemused as they were, and he try as he might, it was impossible to keep the buoyant laughter out of his voice. “Reiner wants to know if Annie drove the whole way, since it seemed to take you all eight goddamn years to get here.”

Annie snorted, loud enough that it echoed down the street as Eren hopped down into the grass, regardless of his socks, and strode in long steps toward her. She was wrapped up in one of Mikasa’s hoodies, her hair in its customary bun, and Eren swept her into a hug before she could properly reply, leaving her to only huff against his ear as she wound her arms around his neck and hung on.

“What’re you so happy about,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as Eren put her down. “And for your information Mikasa drove. I slept.”

“There was a wreck,” Mikasa added, coming closer, arms extended. Eren laughed, because how could he not, and swept her into his arms as well, swinging her around for good measure as the front door of the house opened again.

“Well,” Eren said, dropping her down next to Annie only to drag them both into his arms, tucking his face against Mikasa’s hair and squeezing them both. “I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“Uh-huh,” Annie said. She wormed her way out of his arms, though Mikasa only leant back with furrowed eyebrows and an expression Eren couldn’t exactly pick apart. “Hi losers,” Annie shouted at the house as Eren reluctantly released his sister and instead turned to look at everyone piled on the front porch. Armin and Jean were nearly pressed together and Isabel was front and center, arms crossed and weight probably shifting nervously around her heels.

She’d been nervous about meeting Armin, Mikasa, and Annie all week. Eren had only been able to snort each time she mentioned it, because of course they’d love her. He shook his head a little at the idea now, trying to grin at her through the darkness as Reiner and Bertholdt leaned against the railing on their porch, both tall and broad and blocking the light.

“You guys drugged Eren, right? Or, like, replaced him with a robot or something? Because I haven’t seen him this smiley since that time he had three espressos and six donuts on the same day our math test was cancelled.”

“No drugs,” Reiner promised, holding up his hands as Eren sputtered, reluctantly turning from the conversation to follow Mikasa around to the trunk of the car to help her with their stuff. “He’s been like this since they picked up Armin, apparently. Right Izzy?”

Eren watched from the corner of his eyes as he bent for Annie’s suitcase as Isabel straightened, shifted, and then shrugged. “He’s just happy to have you guys here,” Isabel called out, her voice bright and clear, like a shooting star. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“And we’re happy to be here,” Mikasa called back. There was a silent but that lingered on the end of that statement and Eren stuck his tongue out at her, throwing one of their bags over his shoulder as he made to wheel Annie’s suitcase up. She had wandered up to the porch and was standing in the light, her slight form standing next to Isabel’s, head tipped up as she probably squinted at Reiner and Bertholdt. They hadn’t been exactly close, outside the fact that they’d known each other from the military base, families moving in the same circuit, but they’d still stuck around the night to say hi and catch up with her, and Eren thought that some days that was what mattered. The people who’d stick around an extra day to say hi, lend you their house for a week.

“Need any help,” Isabel offered, shifting on the steps and hopping down into the grass, despite the fact that she was barefoot and trembling in the cool evening. Eren shifted past her, but he glanced back, catching the way Mikasa smiled and shrugged, her expression both sharp and soft as she took in the sight of the redhead with her messy pig-tails.

“An extra hand or six wouldn’t be turned away,” Mikasa answered. She shifted the bag she was carrying to her other hand, stopping in the grass in front of Isabel and holding out her now empty hand. Isabel froze, shoulders stiffening, and Eren almost tripped on the steps trying to watch as she reached out, slowly, to shake Mikasa’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Isabel.”

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Mikasa. And you too, Annie!”

Annie laughed, soft, the sound like a couple of crystals scattering across the floor as Jean slipped by, heading to go help Armin as the blonde moved to descend the stairs and unload the car. “Hello Isabel,” Annie said, quiet but clear, and Eren knew Isabel’s face was pink, her lips pulling in that shy smile she did sometimes with her bottom lip tugged between her teeth.

Another burst of warmth bubbled in Eren’s chest, his lungs expanding as he ducked inside the house, Colossal barking from his cage in the living room. His limbs tingled with the force of the emotion that crawled his body and his head spun, wonderfully light, as he dumped his sister and her girlfriend’s bags next to Armin’s and his own in the corner of the living room opposite of the dog cage.

(So what if he was a little overly bubbly, Eren thought. Why was that weird? So he’d had more bad days than good for, well, a while. But he had his childhood best friend and his sister, he had Isabel and Jean, he had a new haircut with 24 likes on the selfie he took, and the next week without schoolwork at all.

So, yeah, he was bubbly, because he was happy. The world just looked like such a bright place at the moment, which, if he said so himself, wasn’t a bad look for it.

The thought made him smile and at that point he didn’t even notice the overworked sting in his cheeks as everyone came inside.)

Chapter Text

Having Eren's friends around for spring break was a strange thing, a constant source of temptation and awkwardness that kept Isabel on her toes for the first few days. Armin and Mikasa were nice, as was Annie though frankly she kind of scared Isabel, but it was just, well, odd seeing Eren interact with them.

For one, he talked different around them. He stumbled when he talked, using his hands less, shoulders hunched and lips crooked when Armin and Mikasa interrupted to correct him or add something else to his story. He talked...

He talked like he was dumb.

It was mind-blowing, because Armin and Mikasa went on like this was normal. Neither batted an eye when Eren went, "I dunno, ask Armin" at Jean's mostly rhetoric question about how radio signals worked in juncture to walkie-talkies ("so”, Jean said, "you're saying I could talk to a semi-driver with this walkie-talkie if we amped it up? What the fuck, this is a child’s toy-") when Isabel was sure Eren knew. And maybe the first time Isabel could have believed Eren was just letting Armin take center stage, giving him a chance to show off and impress Jean, but then it kept fucking happening.

And it wasn't just the way he talked, but even the way Eren held himself was different. His shoulders hunched, and his hands always open at his sides, as if he was ready for anything, ready to run or fight or something. He took up more room, in some ways, and yet less in others, lingering on the side of things and letting Mikasa and Armin take over instead. Everything about it was just selling himself short and it drove Isabel crazy.

He was still happy, though, there was that at the very least. He’d been happier in the past couple days than Isabel had seen him in a long, long time, but Isabel wasn’t about to hand all the credit for that to Armin and Mikasa, because Eren had been like this for a few days before they’d arrived as well. Not quite to the degree he was at now, singing in the kitchen and dancing around the living room, but he’d still been happy.

(Though, in retrospect, Eren had always been quick to laugh and smile, quick to sling an arm around someone and shake them with a grin when they’d needed it the most. Sometimes Isabel wondered how much of that was forced, how much Eren was hurting under that grin but trying to be strong for everyone else.

Sometimes that damn boy drove her up the wall. He was too much like Levi in some ways, determined to shoulder all the blame and responsibility without a sound.

Boys, Isabel thought to herself most days. How in the world do they get anything done?)

It was still frustrating, a little (or, actually, a lot) to try and find the Eren she knew inside this Eren who Armin and Mikasa knew. Annie caught her watching him, her eyes quiet, and sometimes Isabel got the impression that she knew what Isabel was looking for. It was one of the reasons Isabel had been subtly avoiding being left alone with Annie, because the girl had eyes like crystals, glittering with shit Isabel didn't fucking understand.

"Levi," she whined on Tuesday, crumpling under the pressure of tiptoeing around the problem. "I don't know what to do."

"Well," Levi said dryly, shifting on the other end like he was driving, or cooking, or doing paperwork while he talked. Isabel could imagine him, hunched over the kitchen table, pen in hand and eyes tired. Her chest clenched with homesickness and she almost regretted not going home for the week.

"Have you tried talking to Eren?"

Isabel huffed. Somehow she had known he would say something sensible like that. She scowled down at the porch, shifting against the cool breeze that crept under her hoodie, and on the other end of the phone Levi laughed faintly, soft and tired sounding.

“From what I know of him, he’s not going to bite your head off," Levi reasoned patiently, after a slight pause. "Just ask him if he's okay. I have a feeling he's just having a problem connecting who he is at home with who he is at college. History is a hard thing, Izzy. Some people change while they're gone and going back feels more costume than skin."

Isabel felt her face scrunch up as she considered what Levi was saying. "Alright Dr. Smarty Pants," she muttered, finding herself smiling when Levi laughed again, this time more lively.

"That's Mr. Smarty Pants," Levi muttered, and there was definitely the click of a pen in the background, the shuffle of paperwork. Isabel hoped he was at least home, not still in the office at this hour. It was almost eight.  "Barely made it past an AA, kid; no way in Hell I'd get close to a doctorate."

Isabel blew a raspberry into her phone, grinning a little as she hunched against another chilly breeze. So much for spring, she thought, only a little sour about the weather. The rest seemed to enjoy it, save for Annie, who was still bundled in hoodies and hats just like Isabel was. Still, though, Isabel hoped it would warm up within the next couple of days; she’d worked way too hard at the gym not to show off the definition that was coming into her calves and arms.

“Talk to him,” Levi repeated after a minute of silence that Isabel had been content to let stretch. Levi was like that on the phone, quiet for periods of time and then swinging back around to the point he was trying to make without checking to see if you were still listening. Isabel had missed it last semester, but she’d spent a fair amount of time this semester reacquainting herself with her brother’s phone related quirks. It was nice, to not have him feel so far all the time.

“I will, I will,” Isabel conceded, rolling her eyes fondly at the dark starry sky. She smiled at Levi’s pleased huff, more static than anything else. “I’ll talk to him, stop fussing at me, you old fart.”

“Call me an old fart again and I’m hanging up,” Levi promised, an empty threat at best. Levi had never hung up on her in her life, no matter what she’d called him. She laughed outright at the idea, pushing away from the porch railing as she did so.

“Whatever you say, you big baby,” Isabel teased. “I’m going to go inside and see what we’re doing for dinner, okay? You’ve eaten, haven’t you?”

Levi snorted, the sound loud and strangely reassuring over the phone. “Yes, I’ve eaten, so stop worrying about me and go do the same. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okie dokie,” Isabel said. She shifted, thumb twitching to hang up, but she paused, her goodbye sticking fast in her throat. Levi seemed to sense there was something she wanted to say, because he could still be heard breathing on the other end as she sighed.

“Is… Is Farlan mad at me?”

Levi sighed back, the sound gusty and static filled and, if Isabel wasn’t imagining it, just a little frustrated. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Izzy,” Levi said, instead of denying it. Isabel’s stomach swooped, her chest caving in with the crushing feeling of this quiet, lurking fear come to the light. She swallowed, blinking as the corner of her eyes burned a little bit. “Iz? I mean it, okay, you didn’t do anything fucking wrong. Farlan will get over it; I’ll try and get him to call you later on in the week, if you want.”

Isabel thought about it, biting her lower lip and chewing on it for a minute before shrugging. She knew Levi couldn’t see her, but the motion helped, a little. “Sure, I guess,” she said, around the lump in her throat and the clenching feeling in her chest. “If he wants to talk to me, that is.”

“Iz,” Levi said. He paused, then sighed, and seemed to drop that topic with a little noise in the back of his throat. Isabel missed him.

“I’ll text you,” he said, instead of whatever he’d almost-said, and she hummed in response, promising she’d text him too.

“I love you,” she said quietly.

“I love you too,” Levi answered, just as quietly. “Now go inside and go eat. Tell your friends I said hi, or something dumb, like you always do.”

Isabel laughed and Levi hung up, leaving her shivering a little in the dark and chill outside the little house. It was quiet, still too cold for bugs to be buzzing in the bushes, and Isabel crept inside hastily, shoving her phone in the pouch pocket of her Christmas hoodie as she pulled the front door shut silently behind her. She opened her mouth to call out to Eren, to holler out about hey, does someone want to feed me around here, I’m starving! but voices down the hall had her clicking her jaw shut and creeping forward, the toes of her socks making no sound on the hardwood floors.

“Really, Eren,” Mikasa was saying, somewhere in the kitchens, probably, if Isabel had grasped her personality at all, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. The mental imagine was intimidating, Isabel could admit that wholeheartedly, and it was one of the reasons why she pressed herself against the wall and held her breath. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Jeez, Mikasa, I wasn’t aware being cheerful was a crime. My deepest apologies, I’ll tone it down so as not to offend you.”

A breath, blown out between teeth maybe, or maybe just exhaled loudly. Isabel itched to see what expression Eren was wearing, because this was the most she’d heard him speak up for himself in days.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Mikasa said, a little forcefully. “It’s just- the last time I saw you, you were subdued. You had looked tired. And now…”

“Are you trying to tell me the bags under my eyes magically disappeared overnight,” Eren asked, a little mockingly. Isabel’s fingers curled, her chest hurting. “Because as far as I’m concerned that’s a miracle and we should be celebrating my return from zombiehood.”

A cupboard opened, then the creak of the fridge. Isabel risked peeking through the open doorway for a second, catching a glimpse of Eren in his ripped jeans and t-shirt, head inside the fridge while Mikasa scowled quietly at his back from across the room.

(Isabel knew she should leave, she should creep away and never speak of what she’d seen. This was so rude and so not what Eren would want her to be doing. Everyone in the house gave her ample privacy for her calls with Levi, and yet here she was, returning the favor by snooping in on their big family showdown.

God, she was terrible. And yet she couldn’t’ve moved from the wall outside the kitchen if her life had depended on it.)

The fridge door swung closed with the noise that was becoming familiar, the kind of creak-squeak that Isabel imagined would have set off the dog at all hours of the night. She wondered sometimes if Marco and Bertholdt and Reiner, when he stayed, subsided their lives away with the knowledge that a midnight snack would cost them their relative peace and sanity.

(Isabel didn’t know how dog owners did it. At least cats were quiet, mostly. Dogs were cute, but also loud. And Isabel was loud enough for the whole household, thanks.)

“Is it really so bad,” Eren asked quietly. He sounded sad again, like he had in February, almost like he had directly after he’d punched Erwin. Isabel almost rushed in there to reassure him, to butt her nose where it didn’t belong and defend his happiness, wherever he’d gotten it from, but she didn’t. Annie may have terrified her, but Mikasa really and truly unsettled her, just a little. She was just so sharp.

“No, of course it’s not bad,” Mikasa answered immediately. She sounded like she was trying to soften her voice, but it still felt sharp and stinging to Isabel outside. “I just don’t understand where it’s coming from. I don’t want to see you subdued again, Eren, that’s all.” A pause then, the sound of someone – probably Eren – shuffling around. The crack of a soda can opening almost made her yelp, almost blew her whole cover, and she slapped her hand across her mouth in an effort to keep it together.

(James Bond, she was not. Looks like her future in dazzling espionage was down the drain. Hanji would be so disappointed in her.)

“Is… Is it Isabel?”

“What,” Eren said. Isabel would have been offended, but she was nearly shrieking in the same tone he was, confused and horrified at the implications that were coming to mind. “Jesus Christ, no! Isabel’s my friend, she’s- she’s a good friend. But she’s not the reason why I’m happy, fucking hell. Can’t I just be happy, Mikasa? Can’t I just be fucking relieved that I don’t have to go home to that goddamn house to see you guys?”

“Oh,” Mikasa said, while Isabel was trying to figure out if she was surprised or overwhelmed at the declaration she’s a good friend. Overwhelmed, she decided. Her eyes began to sting again. “Oh, Eren. I’m sorry. I forget, sometimes, I guess, that you hate it there. I’m- I’m sorry.”

There was a gusty sigh, this one edged in a way that bespoke of frustration in heaps before Eren softly said, “it’s okay, Mikasa. It’s okay.”

(It wasn’t okay. Isabel didn’t remember their mother at all and she remembered their uncle only a very, very little. She’d been a toddler when their mother had passed away and only about ten when Kenny had kicked the bucket too, but what she remembered of the man wasn’t flattering in any way. Yelling, shouting, throwing things at walls; she remembered Kenny telling her to stop fucking crying for fuck’s sake at one point, his figure hundreds of feet tall in her memory, towering and dark. But what she remembered most was Levi, standing up to him, always planting himself in between Isabel and their uncle with a steadiness that could have outdone mountains.

Levi had never, ever let her down, never neglected to notice when she was unhappy or unsafe. Not when Kenny was still alive and not in any of their foster homes either.

And maybe Eren’s dad wasn’t Kenny, but that didn’t make it okay. Eren hated being home, anyone could see that, but somehow Mikasa just, what? Forgot?

That wasn’t okay, not at all. Eren deserved better than a home he hated and a sister who didn’t notice or listen. Her friend deserved so much better.)

The kitchen was quiet for a minute, the only sounds Eren shifting around, before finally Mikasa audibly pushed off the countertop, her footsteps quiet as she crossed the kitchen. “If you need help with dinner, give me a shout,” she said, and then she left through the other door, the one that lead into the living room and not the hallway where Isabel was crouched.

This was probably for the better, Isabel reflected, because this way she wasn’t caught snooping, but also because if Isabel looked at Mikasa right now she was probably going to throttle her.

“So,” Eren said, altogether too close to the door Isabel was hiding beside for her liking. She flung herself away from the wall with a swallowed shriek, twisting to find Eren leaning in the doorway, his lips curled with easy amusement. “Do you wanna come in or continue to creep from the hallway?”

“Uh,” she said, swallowing thickly. “I wasn’t creeping.”

“Isabel,” Eren said, pushing off to head back to the stove. He was making some kind of baked dish, ingredients across half the countertops. “I could see your shadow the second you came up.”

Isabel blinked, peering down at the floor, where her shadow was in deed stretched across the open doorway of the kitchen entrance. “Fuck,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to scowl at the lamp behind her, ugly and twisted and green of all things, before she followed Eren into the kitchen. One of the countertops was cleared nearby and she hopped on top of it, feeling her face heat with embarrassment at the realization that Eren knew.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, shoulders hunching as she leaned back against the top cupboards. Eren was chopping onion, knife held with familiarity in his hands. He shrugged and she huffed, swinging out her leg to nudge his hip with her toes. “I mean it, Eren, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“I know, it’s okay,” he said, and there was that word again, boiling her blood. She curled her hands over the countertop to keep them from curling into fists, but Eren noticed all the same, looking up at her with his eyes shining, which logically she knew was from the onion he was chopping, but the sight still pulled at her chest.

“What’s up,” Eren asked, putting down the knife and wiping off his hands to face her. She sighed, chewing on her bottom lip for a minute as she worked through the words in her head.

“I think,” she said softly, “that you are more than Armin or Mikasa give you credit for. And yourself, too, y’know.”

Eren blinked at her. And then he blinked at her again, eyes very green and hair very messy, and she reached up, curling her fingers around the necklace that sat warm against her throat, right next to where her heart was racing in her veins. After a long quiet moment Eren reached up to curl his fingers around his necklace too, his fingers curling carefully against the charm hanging against his collarbone.

(It’d been a stupid girly Christmas present idea, she had known that at the time. Jean hadn’t worn his since school had started, but she knew his necklace was tucked into his desk drawer, save and sound. Eren wore his at least once a week.

Stupid and girly and childish and ridiculous, but Isabel didn’t regret it. Couldn’t regret it, because they were friends and that was so important to her.)

“I’m more what,” Eren asked quietly, lips curling like he was going to make a joke out of this whole thing. Isabel rolled her eyes and reached up to shove at his shoulder with her free hand, her stomach flopping over with a mixture of fondness and sadness as Eren only pressed closer. “More of a pain in the ass?”

“More everything,” Isabel said firmly. “You’re really amazing, Eren. Not everyone would rush headfirst into a fight for a girl they don’t know, you idiot.” Eren opened his mouth to argue and Isabel shook her head, adding more softly, “not everyone would stick around to be her friend afterward either.”

Eren’s jaw clicked close with an audible sound, until only a faint sizzling from the stove was heard. Isabel bit her lip, smiling weakly at Eren as his expression went soft and fond and sad around the edges.

“Yeah, well,” Eren said. He swallowed and his voice was a little hoarse, his arm curling around her back so that he could draw her into a hug without pulling her off the counter. He cleared his throat, dropping his head down on her shoulder, and she mimicked the motion, her forehead resting on the dip where his shoulder met his neck with ease. “It was my pleasure, Izzy-bell. Still is.”

Isabel wrapped her arms around Eren and sighed softly, though this time there was something like contentment blooming in her chest. “It’s my pleasure too,” she told him quietly. “But I still think they could treat you better.”

“They do their best,” Eren murmured. He leaned back, arms retracting, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, easing back until they were looking at each other once more. If anyone asked, her eyes were like this because of the onions next to them. “And besides, I think your lot could do better too.”

The laughter that curled out of her throat was warm and easy, her shoulders losing some of the tension coiled in them as Eren’s smile grew.

“Levi’s trying,” she answered quietly, and Eren nodded, something flickering on his expression, something that made her want to laugh again.

(Something that gave her an idea, actually. But she’d get back to that later.)

“Farlan,” she said, and she knew what her voice sounded like, soft and faint and weak, cracking around the edge of his name as she swallowed reflexively. Eren’s expression softened and darkened, all at once, a thundercloud you could cuddle with, and she smiled faintly. “Farlan does his best.”

Eren snorted and turned back to the stove, fingers curling around the knife with intent and purpose as he returned to cooking. He didn’t call her out on her bullshit and she let his fall flat to the floor as well, twisting instead to reach for the speakers on the countertop down the way from her so she could hook her phone up to it.

For the rest of the time Eren spent cooking they sung and danced and laughed, everyone else slowly inching out of the woodwork around them to peek their heads in the kitchen to see what was going on. Dinner progressed from there, people leaning over others to reach things on the countertops, flopping into chairs scattering the dining room and living room, nudging shoulders and jabbing elbows. It was lively and loud, as other meals had been, and Isabel fell back into the rhythm she had been learning, of listening to Jean and Armin talk, watching Eren laugh, avoiding Annie’s eyes. It was easier than she thought it would be and more peaceful too, but she still glanced at Eren every now and then, her worries not completely gone.

But she didn’t have to worry much longer it seemed, because later that night, as Eren and Isabel were tucking into bowls of ice cream they had bought the day before, Mikasa came into the living room with a disapproving scowl. Armin and Jean were playing Super Smash Brawl, Jean’s legs kicking in the air as he swallowed back curses and yelps as Armin kicked his ass without so much as a twitch, and Isabel had been caught up in the excitement, rooting for Armin in between spoonfuls of deliciousness.

“Eren,” Mikasa said, disapprovingly. It was very possible that it was nearly two in the morning, but Isabel hadn’t looked at a clock in a while, so it could have been later still. Mikasa seemed to get a little prickly about certain people staying up past midnight, so Isabel wasn’t wholly surprised by her growl.

What she was surprised by, however, was Eren’s response.

“Fuck off,” Eren told his sister cheerfully, scooping a huge helping of ice cream into his mouth, so much that his cheeks bulged with it a little. Mikasa blinked, Armin twitched, and Jean finally managed to knock the little cartoon Link character from the platform they were battling on, causing him to yell out happily in victory.

Isabel, meanwhile, held very, very still, staring at Eren with wide eyes.

(“Yeah, alright,” Eren had sighed the first night, standing up to stretch, neck and shoulders popping as he did so. “Guess it’s time to sleep.”

The second night he’d protested a little, but in the end they’d all turned in eventually, no later than one thirty.

Isabel couldn’t remember what he’d said on the third night, but it hadn’t been worse than, “you know, people can live past two in the morning, Mikasa,” before shoving off the couch and letting his sister boss them all to bed. The only one who seemed to be able to change her mind about staying up was Annie, who seemed to get sleepy early on in the night anyway.

But this? This was uncalled for. This was impossible. This was Eren, shoulders relaxed and chest out, head held high and eyes bright as he licked his spoon, not even bothering to look at his sister as he talked.

This was her Eren, Isabel’s Eren, and the sight of him made her head spin with giddiness as silence slowly crept over the room.)

“Excuse me,” Mikasa said and Isabel nearly bit her tongue in half to keep from saying bitch you heard him. Instead she ducked her head, knowing the clatter of her spoon against the ceramic of her bowl was loud enough to draw eyes and not caring. She clutched at her phone, twisted to watch Eren’s face, which glowed, like something from the nebula itself.

“You heard me,” Eren said, rolling his eyes at the screen ahead as even Armin turned to look at him, seeming to completely forget he was supposed to be battling Jean. Jean finally clued into something else going on, clicking the pause button like a good sport to watch the show as well, eyebrows bent, nose scrunched up just a little in confusion at the scene playing out in front of him. “Fuck. Off. I’m a grown ass adult and I can stay up and eat ice cream if I want. Go to bed if you’re so tired, but I wanna play the next round and eat in peace.”

Isabel had no idea what Mikasa looked like, but if the arch of Jean’s eyebrows left anything to the imagination it was not, in any way shape or form, happy. Isabel swiped her thumb across her phone to unlock it, pretending to look down at a text as everyone waited for Mikasa’s reaction.

Before the silence could stretch too long, however, there was a creak on the stairs.

“Hey,” Annie said, padding down into the living room. Isabel could sort of watch the reflection of her winding path to the couch, with a detour past Mikasa to squeeze her shoulder, in the reflection of the windows at the far side of the room. She risked a glance up, peeking between her lashes as her thumb hovered over the camera app, as Annie leaned over the back of the couch, just behind Eren’s shoulder.

“Is that ice cream,” she asked, glancing between Isabel and Eren. It was, obviously, but something in the glitter of Annie’s eyes told Isabel Annie knew exactly what she was doing.

“Yep,” Eren said, popping the p sound smugly. “And you can have some, if you get me a soda.”

Annie snorted, but behind them there was a noise, like a small strangled sound of disbelief, before Annie nodded. “Sure,” she said, shrugging, pushing herself off the couch as footsteps stormed from the living room and away, probably into the kitchen. Annie paused before going, turning to Isabel and giving her the smallest of smiles, the first of which Isabel had seen the girl direct at her in nearly a week.

“You want anything, Isabel?”

Something shifted in the room, something other than Eren’s attitude. Isabel swallowed, nodding a little as she cleared her throat and tried to find her voice.

“Some water, please,” she asked quietly. Eren blew a raspberry at her, but she’d been dying for a glass of water all night and hadn’t gotten around to getting it herself yet, so it wasn’t even like she was trying to play it safe with his scary sister’s scarier girlfriend. She just really wanted some water, okay. “Thank you?”

“No problem,” Annie answered easily, turning to disappear into the kitchen.

Eren was still grinning to himself, pleased and small and full of light, when they two girls exited the kitchen six long minutes later, one holding a can of soda and the other holding a glass of water.

“Here,” Annie said, holding out the glass of water. Isabel took it and then shifted, scooting over further against Eren’s side to make room for Annie on the couch as well. The blonde dropped down on the couch and Mikasa handed Eren his soda, something sad like defeat on her face, before she went and collapsed on the floor in between Annie’s legs, leaning back and looking up as Annie bent over her.

“Cheers,” Eren said and he tapped his can of Coke against the side of Isabel’s glass. She swallowed, her chest tight, pride making her throat close up over anything she could have said in that moment as she tapped her glass against his can and smiled.

(The next day Isabel sent the selfie she’d taken with Eren to Levi. She’d taken one with the whole living room and posted it to Instagram at the time, but there had been just one of her and Eren, both of them with their faces scrunched up from brainfreeze, Eren’s face flushed with laughter and his mouth open a little with the sound as she grimaced like she was dying a slow and terrible death, that she didn’t want to post for some reason. Instead she sent it to Levi the next day, even though he’d already liked the full group selfie, and she captioned the text we talked. thank you <3

9:53 AM
From: Levi
I didn’t do anything, but you’re welcome. Tell your friend I said hi.

I will, she typed out, fidgeting in the silent living room. Half the house was still asleep, Jean making pancakes at the stove while Armin made coffee, their voices muted but sweet as they talked. She bit her lip, chewing on the bottom one, and then typed out something else too.

9:54 AM
To: Levi
I will. but uh. I have a favor to ask??

9:54 AM
From: Levi
Everything okay?

Isabel made a face down at her phone and then slouched against her corner of the couch, eying Eren’s sleeping face across from her. His chest rose and fell as he slept, hair hanging in his eyes, mouth open, and Isabel felt a swell of fondness in her chest for him as she clutched her phone to her chest.

9:55 AM
To: Levi
everything’s fine!! I just wanted to ask smth abt the summer

“Please say yes,” Isabel muttered down to her phone. Eren, meanwhile, slept on unaware.)

Chapter Text

Eren woke to a quiet, empty dorm room and the smell of something sweet and warm in the air. He groaned and rolled over, his arm sliding off to dangle precariously over the edge of the top bunk, and spent a few minutes just lying there, wondering why his alarm wasn’t going off. After another minute the alarm did go off, blaring in his ears from the surface of his desk and making him groan again. He sat up slowly, dragging a hand down his face and then up into his hair to get it out of his eyes, and then slid from his bed, bringing his comforter with him.

The sight of the Styrofoam take-out container sitting next to his phone on his desk brought him up short. The note stacked on top, kept in place by a fork, cleared up the confusion however. He bent over the note after picking up his phone and turning off his alarm.

Happy birthday, you nerd, the note read. There was a little smiley face and then, scribbled at the bottom in the same handwriting, but slightly neater, it also read, P.S. Isabel says happy birthday too and that you’re to see her so she can buy you lunch after your class.

Something was burning in the corner of Eren’s eyes and he couldn’t figure out if it was the leftover vestiges of sleep or tears. Probably both, he decided after a minute, reaching up to rub at his eyes with the back of his hand. His phone bumped into his temple and for some reason the small bump made him laugh.

“Get it together, Jaeger,” he muttered, shaking his head, but the smile on his lips didn’t slip away. It stayed as he pulled out his desk chair and hauled the take-out container closer to him, picking up the fork and setting aside the note so that he could open the lid.

Inside the box was crammed with a stack of strawberry filled French toast. It was, miracle of all miracles, even still warm. This time the burning in Eren’s eyes was definitely tears, but he didn’t care, shaking his head as he dug into his birthday breakfast. It turned out there was a thermos of coffee on his desk as well, already doctored with sugar and milk in it just the way he liked, and by the time he was dressed and leaving for his class Eren felt great.

(Actually, Eren felt fantastic. And it wasn’t just that it was his birthday that had him feeling so good, or so he suspected. He’d been feeling great for, like, weeks.

It was unheard of, frankly, for a good mood of his to last so long. So unheard of that Jean’s awkward policy of don’t-mention-it-don’t-acknowledge-it-and-it’s-not-happening had finally crumpled, his roommate muttering a disbelieving, “how are you still fucking smiling,” the other day while Eren typed up an essay for class.

Isabel had practically doubled in size, arching like a pissed cat as she hissed Jean’s name out, but Eren had only laughed. He should have been mad, or defensive, but in the two weeks since spring break, Eren had spent his days in contentment and peace instead of sulking, or brooding, or lying about wishing the semester was over already, and the change in his outlook – the way the world looked brighter, the way he felt brighter – made it easy to just laugh at Jean’s remark.

“Y’know, Jean,” Eren had said, leaning back in his desk chair in lazy a stretch. “I don’t have the faintest fucking clue.”

Jean had made a strangled noise before rolling his eyes, but Isabel had been looking at him when he glanced at her and her face had been shining with something vaguely like pride. When she’d smiled at him he’d felt his cheeks ache with the force in which he smiled back at her.

It had been a good day, one in a long line of many that Eren was a little scared would vanish completely and, as of yet, hadn’t.)

Class was boring, but as Eren settled down and the TA started in on his lecture for the day, Eren turned toward his phone to amuse himself. He had a few happy birthday text messages, a slew of notifications on his wall once he opened Facebook, and a notification from Instagram that said Isabel had mentioned him and tagged him in a picture. He answered all the text messages first (Connie and Sasha both texted him, even though he would see them tonight, and then there was Armin, Mikasa, and Annie, as well as few of his classmates in two different group chats from assignments from his classes this semester) before turning toward the Instagram notification.

Isabel, it seemed, was going all out for his birthday. It was kind of touching and kind of overwhelming, because prevailing good mood bolstering him or not, Eren had never had anyone so excited for his birthday before.

Everyone go give a shout to my best friend, aka the birthday boy @thejaegerkid today, because he’s a-fucking-mazing!! Love you Eren!!

Above the caption was a collage of images of Eren and Isabel, some of them with Jean and the others, but most of them just Eren and Isabel, pressed cheek to cheek and grinning, a few of them with sunglasses and a few with scarves instead. All the photos were from the last six months or so since he’d met her and the sight of them was stunning, artfully arranged in a way that looked practically professional (Isabel’s photography class was already paying off, he could tell, and he was so fucking proud). Eren’s chest felt tight, his ribs constricting around his lungs as he blinked down at his phone, and then he quietly liked the photo. He wanted to leave a comment on it, but he couldn’t think of anything clever to say and he’d see her soon for lunch anyway.

Instead he tapped out of the app, switching over to his text messaging app instead so that he could send her a text directly.

12:14 PM
To: Queen Isabel
Jean’s note this morning said you wanted to buy me lunch? Warning tho, I just ate like an entire thing of French toast and I think I’m gonna explode and die

“Alright, well, that’s it for today,” Eren’s TA said as he finished up the text and sat waiting for Isabel’s response. Eren glanced up at the board, scanning what was written and wondering if he needed to ask someone to see if he could borrow their notes, but it all looked like stuff straight from the reading anyway, so he didn’t bother. He just packed up his stuff and stood with the flood of other students around him, following the flow of shuffling feet out into the hall outside the classroom, where they all dispersed like rolling marbles, disappearing as quickly as they could, probably to go find lunch themselves.

Eren stepped out into the March sunlight, turning his face up into the feeling of spring, barely any chill in the air nowadays, and stepped out of the flow of traffic so that he could close his eyes and just enjoy it. He stood there for a minute, listening to the chatter of people’s conversations around him as they moved about their day, and when he opened his eyes he found Isabel standing in front of him, arms crossed and lips curled into a little smile.

“Oh,” he said, blinking a little in surprise at the girl who was still bundled up in her hoodie like the hold of winter was still upon them. It wasn’t, it was, like, seventy or something, but Isabel was small and claimed she got cold more easily than they did, so Eren wasn’t too surprised about that. “Well I guess this is easier than answering my text message.”

Isabel laughed, her nose scrunching up briefly while her lips twitched into a giggling smile. “I was going to text you back when I got inside,” she explained, shaking her head before stepping forward and slinging her arms around his neck. She hauled him down into a tight hug and he laughed, hauling her up and off her feet into an even tighter hug. Her breath danced against the side of his neck and he thought about spinning her around, just because he could, but there were still other students milling around, so instead he put her down and bent over her, holding her a little too tight for a little too long and not caring.

“Happy Birthday,” Isabel told his shoulder. Her voice sounded thick in her throat, the way Eren’s felt in his when he swallowed and tried to speak. He ended up shaking his head, partially to dislodge the feeling as he let her go and partially to acknowledge that she’d spoken.

“Thanks,” he rasped after a moment, feeling heat flush his cheeks for getting so worked up. He was twenty-one, a goddamn adult, but he kept getting flustered and emotional like his birthday was a big deal or something. It wasn’t, it was just a day, it had always been just a day for so long now, but this time it felt… different.

(Eren felt different, in ways he struggled to put into words. Less rough, less like the upheaval of an angry ocean storm and more like something easy and mundane and peaceful, like a quiet sidewalk at night.

He felt like there was less darkness and fog in his head, more light spilling into the shadows of what had once bothered him so much. Or something. He didn’t know how to put it into words, hadn’t yet had to try and explain it to anyone, but he felt it all the same.

Something was different in him. Something important. But whatever it was, it was different in the best way possible, he was sure.

He’d figure out how to explain it, eventually. Even if it was only to himself.)

“So,” Isabel said, planting her hands on her hips and eying him from between her windswept fringe. “If you’re not hungry, what do you want to do before your party tonight? You don’t have any other classes today, right?”

Eren hummed as he thought about it, glancing between Isabel and one of the buildings on campus in the distance before he spoke. “Don’t you have class later today,” he asked, but Isabel only raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed.

“It’s a review for the quiz next week,” she announced airily, “a review which I do not need.”

Oh to be so young and naïve, Eren thought fondly. The thought made him laugh and he stepped forward, slinging an arm around her shoulders and dragging her along in his wake as he started forward, a reversal of the day they’d met.

“Whatever you say, Izzy-bell,” he snorted, shrugging a little just to make her roll her eyes. She did so, green eyes narrowing up at him before she rolled them in perfect disbelief at his behavior, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Then, after a pause, he asked, “what do you think about throwing a Frisbee around?”

Isabel’s face contorted, a pained look furrowing her eyebrows even while her lips twitched into another smile. She huffed a soundless sort of laugh and shook her head against his shoulder.

“You want to play Frisbee for your birthday,” she clarified skeptically. Eren shrugged.

“Sure,” he said, “why not? It’s beautiful out and I don’t have any better ideas. Do you?”

Isabel craned her head to look at him for a moment, something soft and fond dancing across her face, before she shook her head again. When she sighed it was explosive and dramatic, the force of it knocking her bangs away from her face for a moment before they fell back into her eyes. Eren was so intent on watching her reaction he almost walked into the edge of the railing for the stairs before Isabel dragged him to the side.

“If the birthday boy wants to play Frisbee,” she declared, “then we will play Frisbee. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Eren; I nearly broke Farlan’s nose with one of those things once.”

Something warm swelled in Eren’s chest, curling around his heart and then squeezing it with a sharp edged fondness. He couldn’t breathe for a moment and when he did it was to laugh, a trembling belly laughed that had his shoulders shaking and his steps down the stairs wobbling until he fell, leaning against the rail. The feeling only became more intense when Eren looked up and found Isabel pouting at him, lower lip stuck out the barest bit while she crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she repeated ominously. And then, switching gears with the speed and lack of direction that only Isabel could master as flawlessly as she did, she brightened, reaching out to poke a finger against his chest.

“You need to post a birthday selfie so that I can share it on, like, every form of social media I have.”

“Are you this bossy on everyone’s birthday,” Eren teased her. Isabel shot him a flat look, the kind a queen would give a peasant, before smiling crookedly and tucking herself back under his arm at the bottom of the steps.

“No,” she answered primly, “just my best friend’s.”

Eren found he had no verbal answer to that, so he just squeezed the girl’s shoulders tightly in a hug.

The afternoon passed in a haze of warm happiness, the kind that stuck to everything like cooling sweat or sticky syrup. Eren and Isabel had gone back to the dorms to scrounge up Eren’s old Frisbee and then gone out to the greens, where they’d collected a small circle of strangers and friends alike to toss the Frisbee around with. Isabel proved her claim to be true, her throws either going completely in the wrong direction or at someone’s face at the speed of not unlike Mach 5, no setting in between the two to moderate her throws at all. Connie and Sasha showed up shortly after they’d started and by the time the sun was setting, every single one of Eren’s friends on campus were there, sprawling in the grass and laughing at the sound of Jean’s loud swearing as he lunged after yet another one of Isabel’s wayward throws.

Eren was sprawled in the grass nearby Isabel’s spot, head tipped back into the fading rays of sunlight as he listened to his friends talk and laugh. He was soaking up that feeling just as much as the sunlight, drifting in the buoyancy left behind in the wake of his exhausted, trembling muscles. It was the same kind of feeling that he got after the gym, but better; there was something about exercise that didn’t involve a load of equipment crammed inside a carefully maintained building that was so much more fulfilling and enjoyable, something about the fresh air and sunshine and the people who ran around outside with you. When Eren breathed, he breathed in deep, and when he exhaled it felt like he went boneless against the scratchy grass. He felt good, he marveled. Really good.

“Oh my god,” Isabel said, her shadow falling over him in a move he suspected was deliberate. “This one! Eren, you have to post this one, I’m texting it to you now.”

“Isabel, for fuck’s sake,” Jean yelled. Eren opened his eyes and turned his head, finding Jean waving the Frisbee at them from a distance as Connie mimicked the other boy’s aggravated movements off to one side. Sasha had her hand wedged over her mouth to keep her laughter quiet, but Eren’s arms still felt too boneless to do such a thing, so his puff of laughter caught Jean’s ire immediately. “Stop taking fucking creeper photos and pay attention. You’re going to learn to throw this goddamn thing if it kills me.”

Isabel whirled back around to face Jean, huffing loudly enough to be heard across the grass, and Eren’s laughter rang out up to the clouds overhead. He listened to them argue for a moment before rolling through the grass, lying on his front while he tugged his phone out of his back pocket to check the picture Isabel had sent him.

It was, as all of Isabel’s pictures turned out these days, a gorgeous picture. Eren’s face was turned up and highlighted by the fading sunlight, so that even the shadows of his lashes against his cheeks could be seen. His lips were twisted into a smile, one Eren hadn’t even known he had been making, so that a little bit of his teeth could be seen, as well as a small dimple on one side of his face. The grass around him was vivid green, his t-shirt a white that stretched across his chest and around his shoulders tightly, which made sense since it was one of his older t-shirts. The color contrast was brilliant and eye-catching, highlighting the warmth in his skin, the way the dying sunlight turned it an even darker shade, some sort of effect on the photo until it looked like Eren’s messy hair was haloed in light, his cheeks painted with the faintest flush of pink all the way across his nose.

“Holy shit,” Eren said, sitting up. He looked up from his phone and watched Isabel fumble the Frisbee, catching it against her stomach with the length of her forearm. “How the fuck did you take something like this with your phone? Did Tony fucking Stark build that shit or what?”

Isabel shot him a cocky, self-satisfied glance over her shoulder, tossing her loose hair around as she winked at him. Jean was fuming some distance away, but Eren could only gaze up at her, awe-struck, his mouth hanging open in a laugh that wasn’t quite finished building yet.

(He felt like he’d laughed more today than he had in the rest of his time alive put together.

He was a little drunk on it, the warm feeling of his next laugh building even before the previous one died. More than a little drunk on it, if he was honest, he was absolutely shitfaced on the feeling of laughing so freely, without any kind of force or effort behind the sound. It just sprang from him, like a warm spring, like a well of water bubbling in the center of his chest, and he never wanted it to end.

He never wanted his birthday to end; he wanted to laugh like this for the rest of his life.)

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Isabel teased him, though Eren was certain his incredulity couldn’t be called dramatic at all, because this was a goddamn stunning photo that she had taken on her phone. This shit looked professional, so much so that Eren was utterly embarrassed to have been the subject of such a photo. “I’ve learned a few tricks in class, that’s all. Now are you going to post it or what?”

“Oh just fucking post it,” Jean yelled. He had his hands cupped around his mouth to better project his voice, so it rang through the setting sun and across the grass with ease. Not that Jean needed the help, Eren thought with a roll of his eyes; loud bastard could’ve been heard from ten yards even if he was trying to whisper. “Post it so Isabel’s brother can fucking like it so that you can flip your fucking shit so that we can get this mess over with, I swear to God-“

Eren shook his head and ducked down over his phone, watching through his lashes as Isabel turned back and hurled the Frisbee with horrifying accuracy straight at Jean’s face. Jean’s yell of fear was nearly instantons and he dropped like sack of flour to the ground to avoid having his nose broken by the flying disc. Connie’s laughter rose so far into the air Eren could have sworn it rebounded off the clouds before barreling back toward the grass around them and Eren found him shaking his head and laughing as well, fingers tapping against the screen of his phone so that he could save the photo before he opened up the Instagram app to post it.

“Okay, okay,” Eren called out after a minute, looking up and rolling his neck to ease the ache in it. Isabel twisted to look at him, the innocence in her batting eyelashes at odds with the devilishness in her grin, and his friends scattered across the grass twisted to look at him as well. “It’s posted, you can get off my back about it now, Izzy-bell.”

Isabel squealed and scrambled for her phone, pulling it out, but even before she could have possibly gotten the app open, Eren’s phone was buzzing with notifications. He pulled down the top menu of his phone, eyebrows arching high on his forehead as he watched them all tumble in on each other until, after a long moment of staring, his phone read 16 new Instagram notifications.

“Holy shit,” Eren muttered, reaching up to drag a hand through his hair. Some of it flopped forward, sticking to his forehead and temples with sweat, but he barely noticed. “How the fuck-“

He clicked on the notifications to bring him to the app, realizing with a jolt that everyone laying around on the grass with him, plus Armin, Mikasa, and Annie had all already liked it. He scrolled through the handles in his notifications, glancing through them almost compulsively for a specific one, and then felt his chest tighten and his face flush when he spotted it.

corporalcleansalot liked your photo. 1m

Eren tried not to feel ridiculously pleased with himself, especially since he hadn’t been the one to take the photo, but he couldn’t help but preen a little at the influx of attention. Comments were flooding in, now that it looked like just about everyone had liked it, and Eren had to wonder if Isabel had sent out a text pre-warning his birthday selfie being posted for it to get this much immediate attention.

“Oh don’t make that face,” Isabel laughed, flopping down on the grass beside him so that she could lean her weight against his shoulder. She didn’t even grimace at the sweat that stuck her forearm to his, dropping her head to rest on his shoulder while she tapped away at her phone. She only peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, but it was enough for Eren to feel pinned in place by the gaze. “You’re a handsome birthday boy and you totally deserve this attention. And no, before you ask, I didn’t send out a group text warning everyone of an incoming selfie.”

Eren raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief. Connie cupped his hands around his mouth to chime in, despite the fact he and Sasha were sprawled out in the shade barely ten feet away.

“She really didn’t,” Connie confirmed, his voice warbling with the effort he was putting behind it to be heard by everyone. Eren considered being embarrassed about his incredibly loud friends and then remembered he’d been rooming with Jean for almost two years now and known Isabel for roughly six months; embarrassment for such things had long since vanished. Sasha nodded along beside her boyfriend sagely. “Or at least, not to us, but I don’t think she had to, man. It’s your birthday! Of course everyone’s gonna be jazzed.”

Eren rolled his eyes, putting enough force behind his own words that everyone could hear him. “You guys are crazy,” he told them all, but his throat became tight and his heart lurched in his chest. His phone buzzed again and again, with even more notifications from Instagram, and he looked away, turning his head from Isabel’s dazzling smile and Jean’s loud snort until he was looking up into the darkening sky.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean said, lumbering closer with a limp that was more pronounced than Eren was sure was strictly necessary. The damn Frisbee hadn’t hit him in the knee that hard. “You’re fucking welcome, Jaeger, you modest piece of shit.”

Isabel huffed, narrowing her eyes as the other boy dropped to sprawl on Eren’s other side. “Jean,” she said, faux pleasantly and completely threateningly, her smile plastered wide and sharp like some kind of large meat cleaver. Eren shrunk back down against the dirt even though he wasn’t the one that expression was aimed at. “Be nice to Eren; it’s his birthday.”

“He’s twenty-one, not twelve,” Jean cried, flinging his arms in the air. Behind them Reiner and Bertholdt helped each other off the ground, waving silently over at Eren that they’d see him later. Connie and Sasha were doing the same, as were Thomas and a few of Eren’s other classmates that had found them goofing off and joined in. Eren waved at everyone back, staying right where he was in a heap upon the ground. Jean and Isabel continued to argue over him, literally, as the sky bled black and blue, the faintest twinkle of the few stars that could be seen in the city poking their heads out for the night as time crept past.

Isabel and Jean sniped back and forth for a while until, in what felt like too short of a time the way sunsets always did, there wasn’t even a hint of the orange-yellow light from the sun in the sky any longer. Eren blinked open his eyes, scrubbing at the sweat that had dried sticky at his temples, and found Isabel and Jean both bent over him, Jean smirking in an undeniably fond way while Isabel covered her mouth to hide a little laugh.

“Up and at ‘em,” Jean said with a roll of his eyes. “We all need showers before we show up at the house for the party and that’s in, like, an hour.”

Isabel looked seconds away from demanding they leave their lounging about now because an hour was hardly time enough to shower and get ready for the party, but she took a look at Eren and visibly restrained herself. Instead she said, “whenever you’re ready, Eren.”

Which was so heartwarming Eren felt breathless for a second, washed through with a wave of platonic love for her so strongly he sat up, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her in for a hug.

“Ew,” Isabel whined, but Eren knew she was teasing because he could feel the curve of her smile against his neck. He squeezed her shoulders and then leaned back, shoving off the ground and stumbling to his feet. He reached down a hand to help Isabel up, but Jean reached out and latched onto him first, his braying laughter ringing out into the relative peace of the expanse of green grass as Jean used Eren’s arm as a crutch to pull himself up to his feet. The abrupt weight pulling on him that he wasn’t expecting almost overbalanced him and he sputtered, but Jean hauled him back upright before he could fall and then extended an arm down to Isabel as well.

Isabel smiled at them, like a queen surveying a particular pleasing court gathering, and then reached up to take both of their hands. Between them they heaved her to her feet as if she weighed nothing, her frame clearing the ground completely for a few seconds until she landed with a kick of her feet and a laugh that was so weightless Eren thought it might knock against the moon rising on the horizon on its way out of the atmosphere.

“Alright, I’m going to go back to my dorm to shower and change clothes,” Isabel informed them. “I’ll be over at your dorm in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes,” Jean scoffed. “That’ll be a new record for you, won’t it?”

Eren elbowed Jean, shaking his head at his roommate’s apparent death wish. “We’ll see you then,” he interjected, before the two could start one of their little one-up matches over how long showers should take (again). Isabel huffed, but relented, waving them off as she turned and started off across the grounds, taking a shortcut past some of the campus buildings back to her dorms. Eren turned to Jean instead of watching her go, more than sure she could take care of herself on her way back to the dorm.

“So,” he said, “does it being my birthday mean I get dibs on the shower?”

Jean snorted. “In your dreams, Jaeger,” he said. Despite this claim, Jean still let him have the shower first, slouching down in front of his laptop to Skype message Armin while Eren dragged his towel and clothes into the bathroom with him.

“Sorry we’re late,” Isabel apologized later, when Marco opened the door to find the three of them wedged on his doorstep, Eren holding back a laugh that was tickling his throat while the other two glared daggers at each other. “Someone was too busy Skyping their boyfriend to take a shower on time like he was supposed to.”

Jean’s cheeks went pink for the third time that night, Isabel’s referral to Armin has Jean’s boyfriend setting him off like nothing else. “He’s not-“ Jean started to argue (again), but Eren stepped forward, squeezing himself into the space Marco vacated as Eren slid through the door. The freckle faced boy only gave him an odd look when Eren resolutely shut the door behind him, Jean and Isabel’s twin sounds of sputtering protest loud even through the glass and wood.

“Uh,” Marco said, when Eren leaned back against the door to keep them out. He couldn’t help it, because they’d been having this argument for twenty minutes. Eren wanted some peace and whatever alcoholic drink being the birthday boy got him. “Happy Birthday, Eren?”

The headache duo Eren called his best friend and roommate started pounding on the door at Eren’s back, which sent trembling shivers down his spine. Eren smiled at Marco, feeling laughter start to knock against the back of his teeth as Isabel’s voice got shrill, and he shook his head and reached out to clasp Marcos’ shoulder with his hand, careful to keep his weight pressed back against the door as he did so.

“Thanks, dude,” he said. “Now, do me a favor?”

“Uh,” Marco said again, “sure?”

“Say something nice about me at my funeral,” Eren requested. “Because I think they’re going to kill me when I lean away from this door, birthday or not.”

Marco laughed, a little nervously, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Actually, Eren, they’ve already left the porch.”

Eren blinked and realized with a start that the pounding at his back had, unmistakably, vanished. He pushed himself off the wood, twisting around to peer out through the glass to see where they’d gone.

“I think they went around the side of the house, to get in through the back door,” Marco offered. “You can hide in the kitchen if you want?”

“I definitely want,” Eren said, shoving forward toward the sounds of voices and music being played in the living room. The crowd was smaller than any of the usual parties, mostly classmates Eren and his friends mutually knew, but the glimpse he caught of the room as he moved into the kitchen was still pretty packed.

“What do you want to drink,” Marco asked, stepped past Eren toward the counter, where bottles and plastic cups were already scattered. Eren was a little bemused, because they were only, like, thirty minutes late tops, but he guessed it was barely a month before finals, so everyone was already in full swing to quell the coming stress. Eren could understand that feeling, so he just leaned back against the counter and shrugged.

“Amaretto sour?”

“Never had one,” Eren said, “but I’ll try it.”

Marco set about making the drink and Eren settled in to wait, listening to the raised voices that drifted in from the living room as Jean and Isabel apparently made their appearance. Eren wasn’t particularly worried about his friends being mad, because even from a distance he could hear the found huff in Isabel’s tone of voice, the reluctant amusement in Jean’s loud declaration that he was going to kill Eren Jaeger if it was the last thing he did. Eren smothered his laughter with the back of his hand, reaching for the red solo cup Marco handed him and grinning when he saw that it had a little crown doodled on the side.

“Special birthday boy cup? You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” Eren teased. Marco only shrugged, smiling in that easy way he had, simple and without depth. But that was, Eren figured, just how Marco was; simple and without any real hidden depths. “Guess it’s time to face my adoring crowd, huh?”

“I guess,” Marco offered. There was a pause, wherein Marco didn’t move, and after a moment the other boy shook his head before he spoke again.

“Do you already have plans for the summer,” Marco asked.

Eren blinked at him for a moment, bemused by the sudden question. “Um,” he said, trying to figure out why Marco would be asking. They were cool, but they weren’t really close friends or anything; Marco had never asked about his break plans before. “I, uh, actually do.”

Marco nodded. “Going home?”

This time Eren shifted, looking away from Marco for a moment in a move he was sure the other boy didn’t miss before looking back. He resisted the urge to shrug and instead shook his head. Some of the tension Eren hadn’t noticed in Marco’s shoulders receded a bit.

“Got plans elsewhere,” Eren said instead, not adding specifics. Marco only nodded and in the silence that stretched Eren took a sip of his drink and offered the other boy a (possibly overdone) enthusiastic thumbs-up, licking his lips to chase the taste of the surprisingly delicious concoction. The action seemed to dissipate the sudden static in the air between them, leaving Marco to follow him easily as he left the kitchen, hovering behind his shoulder as Eren stopped just inside the doorway of the living room. Eyes started to turn his way pretty much the minute he appeared, hands raising in waves and mouths twisting into smiles as greets were shouted, one over top each other, until the sound of all of them buried the music alive. In the center of it all, arms crossed with identical scowls on their faces, which quivered a little as they fought the urge to smile, stood Isabel and Jean, the twin terrors to Eren’s sanity.

Eren took a deliberate sip from his solo cup and swallowed as he looked at them. He wondered if his eyes were sparkling with the kind of mirth Isabel’s were, if his cheeks stretched into a grin so wide it looked like it hurt, the way Jean’s were doing as he looked at them.

“Hey everyone,” Eren said, turning his head to take in the crowd as a whole. He raised his cup to salute them and heard a few of them laugh, watched them shake their heads fondly at his antics as the pause behind his words stretched. “How’s it going?”

Laughter sprang like sunlight from behind the clouds, everyone before him trembling with it, eyes crinkling with varying levels of amusement and happiness. Isabel rolled her eyes with a scoff that was drowned out by everyone else while Jean tossed his arms in the air. From one side Reiner towered over almost everyone else and he shook his head at Eren’s nonchalant behavior before cupping his hands around his mouth.

“On three,” he said, loudly enough to be heard throughout the whole house, not that it was necessary. “One… two… three!”

“Happy Birthday, Eren,” everyone shouted, their voices meshing together as one, as if they’d practiced this before he arrived. He felt the air punch out of his lungs, leaving him dizzy and breathless, eyes stinging with fond tears. He sniffed, a little bit theatrically, and then raised his cup once more to the crowd.

“Thank you,” he called out to the room, putting as much force and emotion, as much sheer, bone-deep gratefulness he could pull up inside him into the words as he physically could. “Everyone, just- thank you.”

Everyone shared another laugh, shaking their heads fondly, before Isabel flounced over to his side, giving Eren a pointed look as she reached for his cup. Eren could only laugh, too overwhelmed by emotion for a minute to say anything, holding it aloft above her head and giving her a sly grin when she narrowed her eyes at him.

“This is the birthday boy cup,” he told her, clearing his throat around the lump in his throat. He twisted his wrist to display the lopsided crown drawn on the side in Sharpie, watching Isabel’s pretty features twist into a pretzel of amusement and confusion as he did so. “But, I guess you can have just one sip…”

Isabel arched an eyebrow at him at his haughty tone and then reached up, bouncing on her tiptoes as she took the cup easily from his hand and brought it to her lips. Jean wandered over, his shadow draping over Isabel until it stole the highlights from her hair, and together they watched Isabel take an overly large gulp before she made a face, shuddering as she shoved the cup back in his waiting hand so roughly that the liquid inside sloshed around.

“Ugh,” she gagged, shaking like a wet dog. “That was gross, Eren, oh my god. Why is Marco trying to poison you on your birthday?!”

“Oh c’mon,” Eren laughed, “it tastes great! What happened to I’m Isabel Magnolia and I can drink absolutely anything, hm?”

Isabel wrinkled her nose at him before daintily turning away, moving toward the kitchen behind him. “I’ll drink anything but that,” she declared. She disappeared without another word, her pigtails bouncing against her cheeks as she ducked through the door, and after a moment where Jean clapped Eren on the shoulder and rolled his eyes, Eren’s roommate followed her.

From there it was like a strange merry-go-round of well wishing, Eren circling the room again and again, getting dragged into conversations and little bits of dancing alike. He didn’t get the chance to actually drink his drink much, which was a pity, and by the time he stole away to the back porch for a quick breath of fresh air and a moment of quiet, his head was swimming from all the attention even as he stood, still utterly sober on the deck.

Outside the night was quiet and clear, the spring stars twinkling overhead and the faint wind whispering through the trees around the house. Eren pressed his arms against the porch railing, tucking himself in the corner where he probably wouldn’t be seen from inside through the windows, and took a deep breath before he let it out in a slow sigh.

I should probably call Mikasa or something, he thought. He reached back into his back pocket for his phone, pulling it out with his free hand, and then paused, thumb hovering over the screen for a moment.

“Um,” Eren said aloud, blinking down at his phone. He tapped the notification and then swiped his thumb to unlock the phone, adjusting his grip on his cup and listening to the faint sound of the liquid inside slosh around. He swallowed when the phone lit up with the Instagram screen, taking him directly to the list of his DMs.

He read the top handle listed once, twice, and then three times, just to be sure he was reading it right. And then, after swallowing so roughly his stomach rolled, he breathed out through his nose in surprise.

corporalcleansalot the handle at the top of his direct messages on Instagram read. Next to the name was Isabel’s older brother’s icon image, a picture of a sticky note with a scowling smiley face drawn on it, shining bright and yellow in the darkness of the quiet night.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathed. He tapped on the message and tried to tell himself his thumb was trembling from the awkward angle of holding the phone and not nerves, because it was only Isabel’s brother, but he didn’t buy his own bullshit for a second.

Happy Birthday, the first little chat box said. Eren almost had to sit down, because holy shit there were multiple fucking chat boxes, but in the end he just leant more of his weight forward against the railing and took a deep, steadying breath.

The second chat box followed with, I know I could have had Isabel pass that message along, but I thought, since you’ll be joining us for summer, I might as well tell you myself.

There was a third chat box, which added, Also, I guess, it’s probably time I said hello.

Eren blinked down at his phone for so long the screen went dark with inactivity before he took a bracing sip of his drink and unlocked his phone again. After a moment’s contemplation Eren put his cup down on the flat top of the railing, so that he could use both hands to text.

OMG HI he typed and then immediately deleted it, feeling his cheeks heat irrationally. It was just Isabel’s brother, he reminded himself, but the thought of Isabel’s brother and the history they’d developed even without meeting each other made his chest clench and his head spin. He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them and trying again.

Three minutes later, he sent the message.

Hey! Thanks for the birthday wishes!!

That was it, that was all it said. Three minutes of intense deliberation and all he had was hey and thanks for the birthday wishes.

Eren Jaeger, absolute fucking idiot, everyone.

He couldn’t help his nervousness, though, he just couldn’t. Every time he tried to get his heart under control, he thought of Levi’s first comment on Isabel’s Instagram, of the worry on Isabel’s face when her brother didn’t arrive to pick her up. He heard Levi’s voice come in through their Skype calls at Christmas, saw the way Isabel’s face crinkled into laughter at her brother’s words. Eren remembered the way his hand had stung after he’d punched Levi’s boss and how, in some form of utter miracle, Levi hadn’t hated him after that. In fact, punching that stuck up blonde had seemed to only make Levi find Eren’s presence in Isabel’s life actually bearable.

Bearable, Eren thought to himself, in the eye of the hurricane that as his weirdly thundering heart. Yeah, sure, bearable is the word for what a guy thinks of you when he likes every single selfie you post within minutes of uploading it.

Eren could feel his cheeks heat up, his throat tightening as he swallowed. This was so ridiculous, he hadn’t even seen a picture of the guy, but Eren still felt drawn to him nonetheless.

As he was contemplating going inside and asking for a bucket of ice to stick his head into, Eren’s phone buzzed in his hand. He jumped, feeling his heart lurch into his throat as he did, and he unlocked his phone in one jerky movement, bringing the screen up until it almost brushed his nose to read the response.

No problem, the chat box next to the little scowling smiley face sticky note said. It didn’t say anything else, not for a long moment, and then Eren realized with a twist of his stomach that he hadn’t responded to the other part of Levi’s original message.

Also thank you for inviting me over for the summer, Eren typed out in such a hurry he almost knocked his solo cup off the railing. I’m looking forward to it tbh.

 A minute or two passed, Eren tapping at his screen every so often to keep it lit, and then a reply popped up from Levi. The message reminded Eren of Levi’s voice, barely audible over the phone pressed when it was against Isabel’s ear just after winter break, the memory of which made him shuffle a little self-consciously and flush with the memory of the turmoil he’d felt then.

Anyone who gives Erwin a black eye gets crashing rights on the couch as long as they want. Doubly so since it was in defense of Isabel.

Eren swallowed and tried to figure out how to respond to that, because he still wasn’t sure how punching Isabel’s brother’s boss had won him such a regard, but before he could another message appeared.

Having a good birthday so far?

Eren bit his lip and ducked his head down over his phone. He got lost in answering Levi’s messages, in picking over his responses and trying to parse apart the other man’s questions so intently he didn’t notice when the awkward itch between his shoulders at talking to a stranger faded into a comfortable easy slouch. Levi was startling funny, Eren realized after a moment, and strangely endearing with his insistence on typing out phrases like to be honest instead of abbreviating them. Eren found himself grinning down at his phone before he realized what was happening, his cheeks aching faintly in such a way that he knew he must have been smiling for a longer period of time than he realized.

You took Isabel out to play Frisbee? Levi’s most recent message read. Eren could imagine the tone of incredibility in his voice, but not well; he wanted to hear what it’d sound like, in person, and then bit his lip at the thought. Do you have a death wish? She almost broke Farlan’s nose once with one of those damned things.

Eren felt something itch up the back of his neck as he went to reply, registering the sound of the back door closing behind him only seconds later. He froze, feeling strangely guilty for a second, and then locked his phone before twisting around to see who had found him. Isabel stood leaning against the back door in a mimic of his earlier actions, arms crossed over her chest and her expression faintly puzzled, the edges of her smile softening with concern as she pushed off the door and wandered over.

“You okay,” she asked quietly. Eren nodded, feeling his fingers twist his phone around and around above the railing and unable to stop the nervous movement. Isabel’s eyes dropped down to watch his hands and when she looked back up at him she looked unconvinced. Eren laughed.

“I’m fine, really,” Eren promised. He glanced away, staring out into the yard and swallowing before he continued. He picked the topic of conversation that wasn’t I’m texting your brother and he’s charming as fuck, settling instead for the bundle of conflicted emotions that had caused him to seek the quiet of the porch in the first place. “I mean, it’s a little, overwhelming, y’know? Everyone inside’s so happy to see me and I don’t think-“

Eren cut himself off, feeling something pathetic try to crawl up his throat. He swallowed it back, buried it under his recent weeks of warmth and personal contentment, and tried again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this,” Eren admitted after a moment. Isabel watched him, strangely patient even though she swayed next to him, clearly tipsy. “For so long it felt like I was just- alone, or-“ Or abandoned on a clifftop somewhere, he thought. Out-loud he said, “like a lighthouse or something.”

Eren didn’t need to look at Isabel to know she was arching both eyebrows at him, clearly confused. “A lighthouse,” she repeated skeptically, which Eren knew was probably fair; after all he’d never actually seen a lighthouse in person, but still the image struck him. The structure all along on a cliffside, rough jagged rocks all around, its light sliding through the darkness with so much resting on that light staying on. If a lighthouse’s bulb blew, then the ships needing guidance to the shore through the dark were fucked. Eren nodded to himself more than to Isabel, pressing his fingers against the dark side of his screen and thinking of the influx of notifications over the last few hours, the difference in himself and how he’d felt from the start of the school year and now.

“Like I was all alone,” Eren clarified, “and like if I fucked up it would be fucking catastrophic, not only for me, but for everything around me. I was alone and I felt rough around the edges and now I feel – different.”

Silence hung between them, heavy like a full moon, until Isabel breathed out a breath that smelled only faintly like rum. “Different,” she coaxed gently. Eren shook his head and smiled, just the corners of his mouth turning up.

“Like instead of a lighthouse, I’m a street lamp,” he said. He didn’t know why these images were coming to him, except maybe he’d been staring at the streetlight he could see in the distance through the trees and how, for some reason, it brought to mind the web of internet connections over the past twenty-four hours that had made him feel like a he was actually a part of the world around him, for the first time in years. He tried to put it into words once more, clearing his throat and curling his fingers around his phone.

“It’s like I’m connected to people, really connected to people.” Eren thought about the way streetlights were spaced, were all wired into a grid, so that they all got power, so that they could all share the work of shedding light upon the streets and sidewalks they stood guardian upon. He swallowed. “As a lighthouse, if my bulb went out, everyone died, but now it feels like if my bulb goes out, it won’t be the end of the world, because there will be other streetlights around to shed light so that my shadows don’t spread too far. And I-“

Eren cut off abruptly, making the mistake of looking at Isabel’s face, her bemusement and confusion spelled perfectly across her expression in a way that made icy embarrassment flood through his body. He shook his head.

“Never mind,” he told her, reaching for his cup to down the first real swelling of his usual miserable countenance in the last few weeks. “It’s stupid, I know, I’m sorry-“

“Eren,” Isabel said. Her voice was firm, no hint of alcohol or flighty cheer in it. Just a strength, like steel, a sureness in herself that the girl had radiated that first day when she grabbed his arm and dragged him behind her like a doll. “Eren Jaeger, don’t you dare apologize for that. It was- it was beautiful.”

Eren shook his head, brushing off her compliment with a short, hollow laugh. “You’re drunk,” he told her, and instantly regretted his words as fire flashed in Isabel’s green eyes, her slim, short body pressing forward until Eren found himself cowering back into the corner of the porch with something very close to genuine fear.

“I am not drunk,” Isabel snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest, having uncrossed them to terrorize him into moving, and then stood perfectly straight, as if determined to prove Eren wrong with every molecule of her being. “And what you were saying makes sense. It more than makes sense, you idiot, it was fucking poetic as shit.”

“Uh,” Eren said, swallowing. He reached up, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head, and then shifted on the toes of his sneakers. This time when embarrassment crowded through his chest and limbs, it felt warm instead of chillingly cold. “Thank you?”

Isabel narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before rolling them, blowing out an exasperated breath between pink lips at Eren’s inability to do, well, what exactly Eren wasn’t sure. Take a compliment, maybe? Eren almost shrugged at her, but at the last minute slouched back against the railing behind him, lowering himself a little until there wasn’t such a height difference between them. Isabel watched him with hawk-like intensity for a moment before, abruptly, everything in her expression softened.

“I feel the same, you know,” she said quietly. It was Eren’s turn to arch his eyebrows at her until she clarified, watching with a twinge in his chest as she smiled at him, lopsided and distinctly sad. “More connected and less alone. Like I don’t have to bear so much by myself anymore. It’s- it’s a really nice feeling, isn’t it?”

For the second time that night, Eren felt the breath leave his chest like he’d been punched. He wheezed a little, blinking at the freshmen in front of him before he nodded, swallowing so that he could speak.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “it’s a really nice feeling.”

Isabel watched him for another moment, her head tipping to the side, before she smiled, her earlier seriousness vanishing into thin air. “I’m so excited for you to spend the summer with us,” she said, seemingly out of nowhere. “I think you’re going to love it, the beach is, like, a fifteen minute walk from the house.”

Eren wasn’t sure he was too crazy about the idea of spending the whole summer on the beach (way, way too much sand for his taste and he wasn’t exactly sure how well he’d take to salt water, considering he’d never seen the ocean before), but he found himself smiling wider and nodding, his mind instantly snapping back to the direct message from Levi he hadn’t answered yet.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick in his throat. “Me too.”

Isabel gave him one last look, briefly biting her lower lip between her teeth, before she shook her head. “Are you coming inside,” she asked quietly, already turning to head back in. Eren was shaking his head back at her before he could think about his answer, turning his phone over in his hand against in an undeniably nervous gesture.

“I’m going to stay out here for another few minutes,” he told her, “but I’ll come inside soon, I promise.”

Eren was sure usually Isabel would protest, insist the birthday boy should be at his party or something to that effect, but it seemed his inane and distinctly emotional metaphor from earlier had bought him the chance for a little more peace. “Okay,” she said, smiling at him again. “Come dance with me when you do?”

“Sure thing, Izzy-bell,” he laughed. He watched her go back inside, staring at the door for another few seconds after it closed behind her before he turned back to his phone.

As stupid as his impromptu speech had sounded, Eren found that he’d spoken the truth; he felt connected to the people around him, a part of something bigger than him, something that could help him shoulder the weight of his issues and fears, and it was a goddamn relief. He’d never felt so light in his life, especially not since his mother’s death nearly a decade before.

The thought was as sobering as it was uplifting, leaving a strange lopsided smile upon Eren’s lips and a tight, breathless feeling in his chest. He turned back toward his Instagram DM section with a shake of his head, fingers tapping out his response to Levi’s message with an ease both similar and dissimilar to the way Eren had fallen into friendship so easily with Isabel.

Nah, Eren ended up messaging Levi back; I don’t have a death wish. But it turns out I’m way better at ducking than Farlan is lmao.

He paused, swallowing to himself, and then added before Levi could respond, hey, can I have your phone number? Texting would probably be easier.

Around him the hum of spring insects sounded, the leafs rustling against one another as the wind crawled by. The music from inside sounded far away, the voices inside even more so. Eren bent over his phone and let the upheaval of nerves from his talk with Isabel fall off his shoulders.

He was different, he thought, from who he’d been at the start of the semester. Hell, he was different now than he had been at Christmas. If he tried to trace back the start of the change, he could almost pinpoint it in the moment he’d stood up to Mikasa during spring break, but he thought it stretched even further back than that.

Change wasn’t so bad, Eren thought, lips twitching as he read Levi’s reply, just a short string of ten numbers that had to have been his phone number. Eren swallowed roughly before memorizing the numbers so that he could add them into his contact list, opening up his text messaging app as he did so.

11:47 PM
To: Levi
Stuff looks pretty different in this window ;)

11:48 PM
From: Levi
Eren? What does that even mean?

11:48 PM
To: Levi
It’s very similar to taking off sunglasses at night tbh

11:49 PM
From: Levi
I can see why Isabel finds you so funny.

11:49 PM
To: Levi
;)

11:50 PM
To: Levi
My humor is admittedly the major part of my charm

11:50 PM
From: Levi
I don’t know about that; you’ve definitely got other factors going for you as well.

11:50 PM
To: Levi
:O

11:51 PM
From: Levi
;)

Change definitely wasn’t bad at all when it felt like this; like Eren was finally coming home instead of missing it instead.

Chapter Text

Isabel answered the phone without looking at the caller ID, too busy trying to figure out why in the ever loving name of fuck was there a written part to her fucking photography exam.

This was, in retrospect, her own stupid mistake.

“Hey,” Farlan said, getting in the word before Isabel could. He cleared his throat directly after, a scratchy sound through the receiver, and then added, “please don’t hang up.”

What the hell, Isabel thought. Her mind, crowded from studying and stressing as finals got closer and closer, kicked into overdrive, her heart joining in the race as well. It latched onto one idea, the only possible reason why Farlan would be calling her after weeks of radio silence, and the whole world seemed to slow down.

“Is Levi okay?!” Her voice was too loud for the quiet stretch of grass she’d been studying on, but she didn’t care, even as the heads of those around her started to rise to give her flat, annoyed looks. She tucked the phone against her shoulder so she could use her hands to start shoving her stuff in her bag, heart beating so loudly in her ears she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hear Farlan’s response.

“What? No, he’s fine, what are you talking about?”

She didn’t register what he’d said for a moment, hands trying to claw at her bag, but when she did relief slammed into her like a car crash and left her weak in the knees, even though she wasn’t standing. She stopped trying to gather all the pens she’d scattered over the area in the last few hours and focused on breathing.

“He’s okay, I swear,” Farlan continued. He sounded confused, Isabel realized, and she knew the exact face he was probably making; eyebrows furrowed while he blinked more often than he usually did. He was probably leaning against a wall or something, maybe on the railing of the front porch. Isabel could picture him all too well, since she’d seen him do it a thousand times before.

“Why would you think he’s not okay,” he asked, after Isabel failed to say anything. She wondered if he’d had to pull the phone back and check that she hadn’t hung up on him, tried not to picture him doing it, and failed. “He’s been texting you constantly, hasn’t he?”

It took a minute, but Isabel cleared her throat and found her voice. “He’s texting Eren,” she answered. She tried to pretend they couldn’t both hear her voice crack in the aftermath of her panicked reacted. “I haven’t talked to him directly in a few days. I thought-“

Her throat closed around her words. It was a silly, stupid fear, that she’d lose Levi one day, that something would happen and she’d find out over the phone, but it was one she couldn’t shake. She’d had this reaction when he hadn’t showed up for winter break too and she tried to remember Eren and how he kept her calm, tried to focus on the fact that Farlan had said Levi was okay and the fact that she knew he’d been texting Eren when they’d had breakfast earlier. Farlan might have been mad at her, but he wouldn’t lie to her about her brother, not ever.

“Shit, I just scared the hell out of you, didn’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry, this wasn’t what I meant to- wait, he’s been texting Eren?”

“Um,” Isabel said. She cleared her throat again and curled slightly into a ball, tugging her knees up to her chest and wrapping her other arm around them. Her photography textbook fell shut against the grass, but she didn’t care. “Yes?”

Farlan was silent a long moment, enough that Isabel almost wanted to check that he hadn’t hung up on her. It made her chest tight and she found she was holding her breath, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m an asshole,” he said eventually. It came out of the blue, no preamble, and all at once Isabel felt her breath return easier.

“You are,” she confirmed softly. She wanted to pull her punches, but weeks of silence after the I’m-not-coming-home-for-spring-break fiasco of a conversation stung and for a moment she wanted him to hurt too. She heard him wince and found it wasn’t satisfying.

She missed him.

“I fucked up,” he continued candidly. “I overreacted and started acting like a fucking dick and I shouldn’t have done that to you. I-“ He cut off, sighing softly. Isabel hooked her chin over her knees and waited. “I’m a fucking asshole,” he repeated quietly. “I just wanted to see you again, but that doesn’t make the fact I hung up on you and then fucking ignored you okay.”

I just wanted to see you again. Isabel’s eyes burned and her heart lodged its way in her throat, keeping her from breathing right. She pulled the phone away from her mouth, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear the way she made a soft noise in her throat. After a deep breath she brought it back.

“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly. She didn’t know if she could acknowledge his apology without crying and she wasn’t ready to say I forgive you quite yet. “Even though you’re a complete fucking asshole, I’ve missed you.”

Farlan’s laughter was warm and soft, full even though this was a touchy conversation they were having. “I miss you too,” he said. He paused for a second, humming just loud enough in thought Isabel could hear it, and then added, “so is Eren really the one Levi’s been texting?”

Something in Isabel loosened, tension sliding from her shoulders. She unwound from her ball a little by little, stretching her legs back out and shifting so she could lean back against the grass. The sun was starting to set, but there was enough light in the late April day that she was still warmed by it.

“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself by snorting a little bit at the end of the word. “They’ve been texting nonstop for a few weeks.”

Farlan whistled quietly and Isabel pictured his eyebrows arching high on his forehead. “I thought he was texting you,” he laughed. “How the hell did that start?”

“Levi wished Eren happy birthday, I think? And then it escalated, like, a lot. I never see Eren without his phone in front of his face anymore, I think he talks to Levi more than I do.”

“Man, Hanji is going to flip when I tell them,” Farlan said. Isabel felt herself smile at the tone of his voice, dry and almost-sarcastic, but warm, like honey.

“Don’t you dare, Far,” she told him, trying not to smile. “You know how ruthless Hanji is about teasing Levi and Eren’s supposed to spend the summer with us! If you make it weird for them, I’ll make you sorry, I swear.”

There was the sound of shifting on the other side, a rustle like Farlan crossed his arms or pushed of the wall or something, and Isabel pressed the phone against her ear tightly. “Is that a promise or a threat, Iz,” Farlan teased. Isabel lost her breath for a moment in the best-worst kind of way.

I miss you, she thought. When he’d said it, he’d sounded sad and distant, gentle like a drifting breeze. Something in her chest ached and she swallowed against the feeling.

“Both,” she told him. The word came out a little low, a little intense, and she felt her cheeks heat, self-conscious about it. But Farlan laughed easily, mocking a huff at her through the phone, and the self-conscious feeling eased somewhat.

“Fine, I won’t tell them,” Farlan promised. “But they’re going to find out eventually, so you better be prepared to help me run damage control when that happens. We’ll have our hands full for sure.”

We, Isabel thought. It was a dumb thing to latch onto, but she’d long ago accepted that Farlan made her dumb. Or made her heart dumb, at least. But the we in that sentence felt good, like a rebuilt bridge, or at least the designs of one.

(She couldn’t forgive him for shutting her out so easily, but she also couldn’t not forgive him, just a little bit. Farlan wasn’t one to apologize easily, nor admit he was wrong, but he’d done both and called himself an asshole. So maybe she wouldn’t make it easy for him, maybe she’d give him hell in person over the summer, just to make sure he wouldn’t do this to her again, but she wasn’t going to make it impossible for him either.

Maybe she should have, but he was Farlan. They were Iz and Far. And if she could go out of her way to try and understand Levi’s idiotic attempts at pulling drastically out of her life so he didn’t smother her, she could give Farlan the same benefit of the doubt here.

I miss you was three words. Maybe not the three words she’d been daydreaming about on and off for the past two years, but they were still a set of very important three words.)

“Deal,” Isabel agreed. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, giving in too soon, she added, “I can’t wait to come home.”

Farlan was quiet a long, long time, unusually long for him on the phone, but Isabel closed her eyes and waited. She didn’t mention it when his voice was soft and rough when he finally answered, “yeah, I can’t wait for you to come home either.” He cleared his throat and then added, “though, you’re probably just dying to get home because of finals.”

Isabel snorted and rubbed at the edge of her eye, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her. “Not just because of finals,” she insisted quietly, “but yeah, I want them over with, like, yesterday.”

“I feel it,” Farlan laughed. “What have you got stacked up on death row this semester?”

Isabel crinkled her nose at the accurate description of final week, but told him. She found herself adding more and more as she talked, backtracking to explain the project she’d just finished in photography that she’d made Eren and Sasha both model for, as well as jumping around to tell stories about the study groups she’d joined for her other classes. Time passed more quickly than she thought and before she knew it, the sky above her was a deep, dark blue, the city lights keeping the stars from glittering above, and her throat was dry from talking so much.

“Damn, Iz,” Farlan said, when she paused for a breath, swallowing roughly and wishing the water bottle in her bag wasn’t empty. “You’ve sure been busy. What about outside of school shit, though? Been up to anything?”

“Uh,” Isabel muttered, “I don’t think I really exist outside of schoolwork anymore.”

Farlan laughed, loud and warm and fond, the sound so loud she could still hear it when she pulled the phone from her ear a little. It made her chest tight and she covered her face with her hand to hide her smile from the stars hidden above. When he started to calm down she pulled the hand away and shrugged into the grass, cheeks aching from smiling but unable to stop at that point.

“Honestly, though,” Isabel continued, “I’ve been studying for, like, two weeks. Haven’t really done much since spring break, though Sunday we threw a Frisbee around for a while before everyone split back off to go study again.”

“That sounds nice,” Farlan said, “the Frisbee thing. Hopefully your aim’s gotten better? Or are your new friends just better at ducking than I am?”

“A little bit of both,” Isabel snickered. “I clocked Jean’s shin pretty decently, but so far there have been no major injuries that have been my fault. Levi texting Eren so much almost got him hit, but he has faster reflexes than, like, a cheetah, I swear to god.”

“Are you serious? God, I want to tease Levi about that so badly,” Farlan muttered. She pictured him shaking his head, his rueful grin, the mischievous glint in his eyes. Her heart lurched in her chest, a little, but the sting of longing that usually came with that lurch was subdued. Not gone, but not strong either, and though Isabel didn’t know exactly why, she didn’t care either. She counted it as a blessing and threw herself back into the conversation.

“Trust me, I’ve been keeping myself and Jean on a tight leash about that, even though it’s so tempting. Eren almost walked into the doorframe at the last apartment complex we went to go see and-“

“Apartment complex,” Farlan interrupted. “You two were looking at apartment complexes?”

“Um,” Isabel said. She swallowed roughly, not having meant to mention that yet, since she hadn’t talked about it with Levi much or, uh, at all. She didn’t know if Eren had mentioned it to him either, but it wasn’t like it was supposed to be a secret or anything, just an idea in the works. She cleared her throat and then it was like the floodgates had burst.

“It was the three of us, actually. Jean and Eren and I,” Isabel clarified, like there was going to be confusion about that. “We figured, well, my roommate and I aren’t really buddy-buddy and I spend so much time with them anyway, and while rent would suck, a real kitchen would mean we wouldn’t have to eat out so much. And it’d be nice to have, like, a place where people who visit us could crash that was ours, people like, uh, you and Levi? So I mean it makes sense and it’s nothing concrete, but we’re thinking it’s a pretty good idea right now…”

Farlan was quiet for a minute, only the faintest hum as he thought letting her know he was still there. Then, very quietly, almost so quietly she asked him to repeat it, he said, “I’d like that. To visit you, I mean.”

Isabel found her own voice softening and lowering, until she wondered if it was so soft he almost asked her to repeat herself too when she answered, “me too, I’d like it a lot.”

Farlan huffed into the phone quietly, a fond sound that stole Isabel’s breath away, and she huffed back, barely audibly, just to make him laugh. He did, loud and bright, and in the background of his call Isabel could hear the faint sound of a door opening and Levi’s voice asking, “what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“Isabel,” Farlan said. And then, “well, not at her, but she’s on the phone,” Farlan said. He pulled away from the phone, just a bit, but Isabel could still hear him loud and clear.

“Ah,” Levi’s faint voice said. It had an edge to it that made Isabel sit up and smile, dragging a hand through her hair to get all the bits of grass that might be stuck there out. She needed to pack up, start heading to the cafeteria or Eren’s dorm for food, but at the same time she didn’t want to give this moment up. Levi’s interruption gave her a breather though, taking Farlan’s focus away so that she could tuck the phone against her shoulder and start hauling everything together into her bag.

“You better be groveling like a motherfucker,” Levi told Farlan. Farlan sputtered a little bit in protest, which made Isabel laugh, shoulders shaking so much she almost dropped the phone.

“I did,” Farlan promised Levi. “Didn’t I, Iz? There was groveling, right?”

Isabel hummed, picking up her textbook and jamming it in, not caring that her notes were crumpling as she did so. “Not enough,” she said, teasing and serious all at once. “There could always be more groveling, I think.”

“Oh come on,” Farlan laughed.

“She said you needed to grovel more, didn’t she? Knew I raised her right.”

“Fuck off, Levi, don’t you have someone you need to be texting?”

“Farlan! You promised,” Isabel hissed. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh as she heard Levi sputtering and squawking what’s that supposed to fucking mean?! in the background. She took a deep breath and felt her whole world kind of shift and center, everything seeming to slow and spin around this moment, the way Farlan’s huff of laughter in response to Levi’s squawk echoed in her ear, coupled with the clear night sky and the words I miss you that had been said.

It wasn’t perfect, she thought, but it was on the right track.

“Hey, Far-Far,” Isabel called, trying to get his attention once more. Her bag was almost packed again, the last few pencils she knew were around here somewhere lost to her in the dark. She’d need the flashlight on her phone to find them, probably, and she knew if she didn’t hang up soon, she’d probably be out here on the phone all night.

“Uh, yeah, Iz-Iz?”

Isabel laughed, ducking her head down until her chin almost touched her chest. She smiled at the ground and shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “I gotta hang up, Far; I need to eat and shower and probably get back to studying, unfortunately. I’ll text you though, probably when I get to the dorms? Or, uh, I can text you tomorrow, or-“

“Can I call you,” Farlan asked. The sound of him shifting was audible, even over the sudden pounding of her heart. “Like, tomorrow, whenever you’re free? I like catching up with you like this. I mean, I like the texting thing too, but I like hearing your voice.”

Isabel felt herself flush, cheeks filling with heat before it spilled out to her ears and down her throat as well. Her stomach flipped and her throat closed around the words she wanted to say, so much so that she had to clear it twice before she could talk.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’d- I’d like that. I like hearing your voice too, Far.”

Farlan made a sound, low in the back of his throat, and then said, “cool! We’re set then, uh. Go find something to eat and text me later, okay?”

“Okay,” Isabel agreed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wound her arm around them, unwilling to hang up even though it had been her idea.

“Oh,” Farlan interjected, before she could make herself pull the phone away and click that red button. “Iz?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am sorry,” Farlan said. The tightness to his tone made her swallow, eyes scrunching closed as she tried not to miss him with every fiber of her being. It didn’t work. “And I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you, okay? I’m not going to put you through that shit again, I swear.”

(“He’s doing his best,” Isabel had told Eren. She’d been echoing his own words, in that kitchen in the house neither of them lived in. They were words that had felt like ash in her mouth, a lie she’d been aware of in them both, because Farlan’s actions had hurt her, just the way Eren’s friends had hurt him.

Now, though, those words almost felt different. Because she’d said them then, knowing Farlan could do better, and now here he was, putting everything he had into trying to reach out to her and mend what he had done.

So maybe it was stupid, to let it bring tears to her eyes, to forgive him that second even though she had no intention of telling him he was forgiven just yet.

But this was Farlan, trying his best, his actual best, for her. And that made all the difference, in the end.)

“I know, Far,” Isabel whispered. It was supposed to come out louder, steadier, but it didn’t. “I trust you.”

Farlan sucked in a quiet breath on the other end of the line, held it for a moment, and then sighed. “You’re too good for me, you know that,” he muttered. She shook her head and didn’t know how to answer that, but selfishly found herself smiling just a little. Isabel breathed out a laugh and leaned forward to tuck her chin over her knees.

“Don’t you forget it,” she teased. Her voice trembled, but Farlan’s bark of laughter nearly drowned it out anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“I won’t, don’t worry. But anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Text you later, okay? Go find yourself some damn dinner before your brother throttles me for indirectly keeping you from eating or some shit.”

“Pfft, okay,” Isabel answered, “bye Far, text you later, you dork. Don’t let Levi intimidate you too much, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, Iz,” Farlan said dryly. “Bye.” He paused for a beat and then added, softly, “love you.”

He disconnected the line before Isabel could remember how to speak, could do more than figure out how to breathe around the lump in her throat. She closed her eyes and held still, arm dropping to her side, and sat like that for a long, long time.

Above her, somewhere the light couldn’t touch, she was sure the stars glittered. Out on campus, somewhere she couldn’t see, students ate and studied and laughed together, moving through their lives and riding the ups and downs as they came. People all throughout the city did the same, waking up each morning and crashing back into bed each night, their lives ebbing and flowing, but connected.

(Suddenly Eren’s speech on the back porch of Marco’s house made crystal clear sense to her. Lighthouses were beautiful, but lonely things, and while streetlights were commonplace and unimportant, they were had a constant connection to one another, so that they never felt alone.

She liked that idea, of never feeling alone. Stupidly optimistic, maybe, but she liked it nonetheless.)

Isabel smiled and stood up, brushing dirt and grass from her legs and back as she did so. She swiped her thumb across her phone, glancing over the notifications from social media and the texts from Eren asking her about dinner before opening up a new text message, cradling her phone in both hands to type it out. Once that was done she tapped on her flashlight app and bent down, collecting the last of her pencils before dropping them in the pocket of her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

When she went to open her text messages again to answer Eren, she paused, clicking on another name and grinning to herself as she did.

To: Far-Far
8:37 PM
so I’m thinking I’m gonna have tacos, what abt you?

From: Far-Far
8:38 PM
Tacos sound good actually. Maybe I can talk Levi into them too…

To: Far-Far
8:38 PM
mention casually that Eren and I are going out for tacos, I bet that’ll make him want them

From: Far-Far
8:39 PM
God Iz I missed you

Chapter Text

“Okay,” Eren said, bending over to drop the last box on the pavement and groaning when his arms were finally free of its weight. “That’s the last one, Izzy-bell.”

“The last one of yours,” she corrected. She was taking her position as Box Watcher So No One Takes Our Stuff a little too seriously, if anyone asked Eren; perched on the side of the sidewalk, legs splayed out above the asphalt of the parking lot as they waited for their ride to come. They were in front of her dorm, not Eren’s, which meant carting Eren’s boxes down here had taken way, way longer than he had originally thought.

Thank fuck I’ve only got three, he thought, not for the first time since he’d started packing. Out loud he said, “Isabel, I am not carting your ten boxes down here myself.”

Isabel shot him a look, all fluttering eyelashes and pouty lips, but Eren just stared at her blankly before dropping the duffle bag slung over his shoulder on top of one of his boxes and then collapsing on the curb next to her. Immediately the girl erupted into a fit of snickers, shoulders shaking as she leaned over against his shoulder and shook her head fondly.

“Of course I’m not gonna make you carry them,” she promised airily. They both pretended Eren’s face wasn’t scrunched into a deeply disbelieving look, because Isabel was terrible and would have absolutely done that, at least if Jean had still been around. Since he’d left the day before, in a tearing goodbye where he’d made Eren swear he’d come to the family camping trip (Isabel had looked at him blankly, echoed “camping, as in… outdoors?” and then gently promised she’d consider coming, to which Eren had laughed at, hard enough he’d had to lean back against the hood of Jean’s car for a while), Eren and Isabel were on their own in the box-carting department.

Or at least they were, until their ride arrived.

“So,” Eren said, as the wind blew by and Isabel’s hair tickled at the side of his neck. “Hanji’s coming to pick us up, right? In something that can carry all your boxes and the both of us?”

Eren could feel the way Isabel rolled her eyes, even without turning his head to look at her. “Yes,” she said, exasperated but with enough warm laughter lurking in the word that Eren didn’t feel shitty about asking the question again. “Hanji texted me this morning, sent me a picture of the truck they rented; it’ll fit all our boxes and us, no problem. And the weather’s not supposed to be bad between here and home, so it shouldn’t be a problem to have everything in the back.”

“Thank fuck,” Eren murmured. “Jean drove through, like, three hours of thunderstorm on his way home, apparently. He was complaining about it all night on Skype, according to Armin.”

Isabel snorted, the sound quickly followed by her hand coming up to muffle the sound of her giggles, and Eren grinned out at the pavement, watching other students trying to cram boxes in their cars, or the cars of the people who’d come to get them, everyone laughing and groaning and hugging hello and goodbye. Everyone had someone, he noticed, whether it was just to help them carry boxes or someone there to actually pick them up, something Eren had noticed back at the start of the year as well.

He couldn’t help but remember that this time last year he’d been boarding a bus, his single box of stuff already mailed back to his dad’s house. How he’d been so tired and alone, head thumping into the seat in front of him as he sat on the bus, already numb to what he knew would be a fucking awful summer. He’d been right, about the summer, and that feeling had carried over when he’d come back to campus, the bus ride up with a suitcase and a duffle bag, his box of stuff set to arrive in the mail in a few days later, everything feeling grey and hollow and pointless. The difference between then and now staggered him, for a moment, leaving him breathless as Isabel pulled out her phone and booted up Instagram to kill time.

“Hey,” Isabel said, elbowing him gently to pull him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t alone and that was fucking mind blowing, the way it always was when he remembered the start of the year. He blinked and turned his head to her, twisting his shoulder so that the phone before them was blocked from the sunlight as much as possible. He knew her screen’s brightness was all the way up, because Isabel was unconcerned about such things as battery life when she knew Eren had a portable charger in his bag, and it took him a moment to realize she wasn’t trying to get him to look at a picture, but take one with her.

Eren laughed and shook his head, pushing a hand up into his hair to comb it out of his face for the picture. The sunlight was making it hard to see the screen, but he knew with Isabel’s skill they’d end up haloed in it, and so he ducked his head against hers, slung an arm around her waist to keep them close, and grinned.

Isabel hummed after the picture was taken, twisting and elbowing Eren back a little so she could maneuver into the space between his legs and use his body mass to block the sun from her screen. Eren snorted but inched back from the curb dutifully, wondering if this was what it was supposed to be like, to have a little sister as she ducked under his arm and started to tap away at the screen. Mikasa had never been like this with him, but from Levi’s stories Isabel had always been like this with him. The thought made his chest tight, part affection (for Isabel) and part nerves (for, you know, normal reasons).

“What are the chances I get to punch your brother’s boss again this summer,” Eren asked. The question seemed out of the blue, but he figured Isabel would be able to follow his train of thought easily enough. After all they’d both been a little broken hearted when Levi had announced Erwin had needed him and Farlan for a project this weekend, so Hanji would have to get them instead.

Isabel, as expected, didn’t even pause, leaning her head against his shoulder and making a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “Hanji could probably arrange something, to make it look like an accident,” she offered. Eren glanced down at her and found her tongue sticking out between her teeth, in the pause between her words, as she tried to come up with a fitting caption for their last selfie of the school year. “We can ask them when they arrive; I think they were almost as delighted as Levi, last time, so they’ll probably be more than willing to help. They were also texting me earlier about how pissed they were that Erwin was pulling this project bullshit again, so…”

“Good to know I’ve got allies to bail me out of jail for assault,” Eren laughed. The thought of meeting Hanji again, with their intense eyes and terrible, terrible driving was unsettling, but Levi had promised him the day before that he’d sworn Hanji on their best behavior, so he was a little more at ease with the arrangement than before.

(He tried not to think about it, that moment when he’d been sitting on the floor of his dorm, Isabel undoing all his packing work in an attempt to dig through his CD’s for what she called road trip tunes, Eren, they’re essential, don’t you know anything?

His phone had been balanced on his knee, his back propped up against the leg of Jean’s old desk. Jean hadn’t left yet, since it was still morning and he’d been procrastinating the goodbyes like the emotionally stunted loser he was, and while it had been a peaceful moment, Eren’s chest had still been tight, breathless in the worst way.

He wasn’t ready to lose this – the familiarity of who he was at school now, Jean and Isabel bickering over his head as he ducked over his phone and grinned. It felt like he’d just fallen into the routine of it and now it was leaving him, everything around him charged with change.

He was scared, to a point, that if he took a step forward from this point, he’d lose what he’d gained this year. That if he left this room, the feeling of being in sync with Isabel and Jean wouldn’t be able to hold up to a new environment.

He was scared, as well, that Levi wouldn’t- like him.

Like him felt like a childish way to put it, but Eren was at a loss to find a better way to explain it. Texting someone was one thing, something that you could put down and walk away from if you found the other person too annoying, but having them over to your house, to stay for the summer-

Eren couldn’t imagine, in that moment in his dorm room, that the easy, natural, vibrant thing he had with Levi at the moment would withstand meeting him, and that thought terrified him more than anything else.

I am going to ruin everything, he had thought, ducking his head over his lap and biting his lower lip. But then the screen had lit up, Levi’s text messages displayed in a little bubble, and Eren had pulled the phone up to his face to read them.

From: Levi
11:23 AM
I made that crazy fucker swear on their fucking coffee pot that they’d be on their best behavior tomorrow when they pick you and Iz up. If they’re not, let me know, okay?

From: Levi
11:23 AM
I’m sorry again that I won’t be there. I had really been looking forward to getting to pick you guys up and finally meet you :/

And just like that, like some ridiculous fairytale magic, Eren had been able to suck in air and breathe again. The tightness in his chest stayed, but it felt different now; a warmer constriction around his heart and lungs instead of an icy one.

He had tried not to look into that feeling, too much, pushing it gently aside as he tapped his thumbs against the screen to answer. Levi, as usual, had made a welcoming enough distraction that he had even succeeded, for a time.)

“Okay, so,” Isabel said, using her This Is An Important Announcement, Listen Up voice. Eren blinked and pulled himself out of his thoughts, ducking his head so that he could see the phone screen she angled up at him, his eyes tracing over the familiar layout of Instagram as he took in the picture of them and caption. “What do you think? Too corny? Too much light?”

“If there’s one good thing to say about college, it’s that it gave me this dude as my bff,” Eren read out loud. He had to clear his throat after that line, squeezing his arm around Isabel’s back affectionately as he did so, only to choke a little bit before he continued on. “@thejaegerkid so excited to bring you home to @corporalcleansalot- winky nose face?! Isabel, seriously, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I have been the patron saint of not teasing you for the last month,” Isabel argued smugly, grinning up at him, face angled down so she could bat her lashes at him over the rim of her heart shaped sunglasses. “I have earned the use of this winky nose face, Eren.”

Eren rolled his eyes, feeling his face heat but unable to defend that statement because it was true. Isabel’s restraint (and tight reign over Jean this last month) had been obvious, even to Eren. He cleared his throat, ignored the pleased, smug way she huffed in victory, and kept reading. “Now all that’s left to do is wait for our ride, so we can start out summer in the sun!! #wegottagetawayfromhere #wegottogetaway #thebeachcallsmyname #thebffsummeradventure.”

Silence held for a moment, as Eren felt his face go through the complicated ping-pong match between amused and befuddled. “Izzy,” he said finally, “you have got to let that song go. It’s been weeks.”

“Eren Jaeger,” Isabel hissed, mortally offended that he’d called her out on her use of song lyrics in the hashtags. Eren gave her a look, unimpressed, as she puffed up like a pissed off kitten. “That song is a classic, don’t you dare! And it’s not like I’m the only one who’s been playing it on repeat, you absolute faker.”

“It’s a catchy song,” Eren defended himself. He knew he was grinning like a lunatic, his cheeks heating up from being utterly called out on the fact that, yeah, he’d spent the last three times Jean had given him the aux cord in the car playing nothing but that one single, but still. “And I like his voice! But at least I haven’t started hashtagging the lyrics, Isabel Magnolia!”

Isabel elbowed him, gently and jokingly, laughing despite the offended face she was trying to put on. Her sunglasses started to slip from her nose, bangs dropping in her eyes when she shook her head, and Eren reached out to catch the glasses when they fell, immediately popping them on his own face instead.

“I like it,” he said, before she could yell at the sunglasses theft that was happening. “It gets my seal of approval for posting for sure.”

Isabel’s face lit up, but after a second she bit her lip and shook her head. “Hold on,” she said, wriggling back around until they were almost in the same position as before, heads side by side. “I need one of you in the glasses now, to put beside it,” she explained as she positioned the phone, trying to catch the same lighting as before. Eren made an understanding noise as he tried not to laugh, lips pulling into a grin without any real thought or effort to do so as she held up the phone and snapped the picture. Once it was taken she dropped back in the shade of his body, rearranging the layout for a second before she picked her head up and squinting at him.

“Isabel,” Eren said, quite reasonably. He knew that look, especially after the horrid modeling project he’d been roped into. “Two pictures is way more than enough for Instragram, just flip one of them upside down or something if you want it to look artsy.”

Isabel’s face wrinkled up in thought before she shook her head. “Nope, I can’t decide which picture would be upside down. Here, gimmie a second-“

While Isabel rummaged around in her bag at their feet, Eren rolled his eyes before resuming his earlier job of scanning the parking lot. Isabel had said Hanji had sent her a picture of the truck, but since Eren hadn’t seen the picture, he had no idea what to look for. A rental pickup truck, probably, but there were more than few of those around already, people hefting boxes and furniture in and out of them. It was barely noon, though, so Eren wasn’t exactly worried yet; last time Hanji had showed up it had been extremely late, so he was pretty much settled in to let his ass go numb against the concrete for the next couple hours.

“Aha,” Isabel crowed, wriggling back into place and shoving another pair of sunglasses onto her face. Eren turned to look at her, eyebrows raised as he found that she had another pair of heartshaped sunglasses.

“Where the fuck did you even get these,” he asked, laughing as she hoisted herself back up to sit so their heads were pressed together. “I have literally never seen you wear them before, Izzy-bell, what the fuck. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I bought them, like, two days ago when I went to hang out with Sasha before she left,” Isabel defended. “Now smile for the picture already, and then we can take, like, one without the glasses, and I can make a collage!”

Eren rolled his eyes but grinned, and then after that picture was taken he flipped the sunglasses back on top of his head, knowing the nose pieces were going to pull at his hair, since it was a little long from not being cut all year, but not caring for a moment as Isabel did the same, her glasses catching her bangs and pulling them up in a cute poof. Eren snorted at the sight, pulling her tight against his side as she lifted up the camera for the last time, and then when the photo taking was finally done, he let her slide back into his lap once more.

After a minute of her rearranging the photos and retyping the caption, Eren asked, “do you really think your brother will like me?”

Isabel paused what she was doing before she inched back until she was balanced precariously on the curb, just enough space between them that she could turn and look him in the eye. It was a different question, this time, then it had been before, even though the words were the same. Back before Christmas break, Eren hadn’t known Levi, hadn’t known him as anything other than Isabel’s shit-head brother who wouldn’t text or call her, and Levi hadn’t known Eren as anything more either. Now, with everything that had happened, all the messages Eren had exchanged - in class, in between classes, at meals where Isabel and Jean rolled their eyes at him fondly, sometimes in the dead of night where neither of them could sleep, like secrets in the dark –

“Eren,” Isabel said, her voice sweet and gentle, but solid like steel. Her eyes were green, the color that spring always tried to carry with it into summer, bright and sharp like nothing else, and there was a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, standing out now that the sun was drifting across her face. Eren sucked in a breath and tried not to let it get to him, how embarrassingly obvious his reaction was. “Levi already likes you.”

Eren couldn’t help but grimace, shaking his head and biting back a yelp when the sunglasses slid off the top of his head and bounced onto his nose. He reached up a hand to shove them higher onto his face, in the hopes that it hid the expression likely swimming in his eyes from view. “Yeah, but that’s like- texting. What if he thinks I’m annoying face to face?”

Isabel arched both of her eyebrows at him, in a pointed motion that was supposed to mean you adorable little fool or something, but Eren wasn’t put at peace by that look alone. After a minute she rolled her eyes and sighed, a crooked little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you Levi had asked me the same fucking thing last night?”

Eren stilled. The parking lot, with all the college students trying to get home for the summer, vanished. The world itself narrowed down to Isabel, who was staring at him fondly as his chest tried to riot at her words. Suddenly he had to swallow twice before he could speak.

“Really,” he asked and his voice was small and quiet in the most embarrassing way. He wanted to apologize, to promise the way it almost cracked didn’t mean anything, but Isabel just smiled at him and didn’t laugh, which Eren decided was a miracle all by itself.

“Really, really,” she promised. She even held up her pinky finger, swooping her hand down to link it with Eren’s and shake their hands between them. Eren’s arm moved like a limp noodle, but his heart beat so loudly he wondered if she could feel it in the thunder all the way to his fingertips. “But you’re so not allowed to tell him I told you that, okay? He’ll kill me and then I’ll never ever get to see the beach again, which would be so tragic.”

Eren sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly, laughing a little as he did so. “Super tragic,” he agreed quietly. And then, after a heartbeat, “thanks, Isabel.”

Isabel gave him a fond look, reaching up to pat his cheek teasing with the hand that wasn’t still cradling her phone. “Anytime, Eren-bear,” she announced, grinning like the devil, just before she turned around and flopped back against his chest. Eren made an overdramatic oof sound and then snorted, reaching for his phone from the sidewalk beside him as she went back to making sure her Instagram creation was perfect.

The message log from Levi was quiet, as it had been for the past couple hours. Levi hadn’t told him what project his fuckhead boss had saddled him with, but he had promised to text him that afternoon, to check in that Hanji had gotten them both alright. Eren scrolled through the messages for a moment, grinning a little bit when he found the one where he’d finally gotten Levi to respond with an emoji, only for the messages log to snap back to the text from this morning. Eren felt his forehead furrow, because that usually only happened when he got a text message from the person, his eyebrows arching on his forehead when the little loading message sign showed up on his phone.

“Okay,” Isabel declared in front of him, probably beaming with pride, but Eren couldn’t pick his head up to look as the message finally loaded. “The collage is posted; you can go like it now!”

“Uh,” Eren said. There was a picture, in his message log with Levi. There was a picture of him and Isabel on the sidewalk on his message log with Levi. “What the fuck am I looking at?”

“Whatever it is, Eren Jaeger, you better not be taking that tone if it’s my collage-“

Isabel’s words cut off sharply as the girl wriggled around and caught a glimpse of Eren’s screen, the picture he’d been set enlarged after he’d tapped on it. Her mouth fell open, something Eren felt like he was watching in slow motion, and it was with a jerk of his head that he looked up into the parking lot as someone’s shadow fell over their legs.

“Surprise,” someone said, into the silence following Isabel’s words, their voice low and smooth and blatantly amused.  

Isabel, having a better reaction time than Eren, sucked in a gasp and then absolutely and positively shrieked. “Levi! Oh my god, Levi!”

And Levi was-

Eren felt his brain short circuit for a second as storm cloud grey eyes met with his. His mouth felt dry, his hands clammy, and as his ribs squeezed around his chest he could barely breathe let alone fucking speak. Levi was short, shorter than Eren had expected, with neatly cut dark hair that danced in the wind as it blew by. He was standing there, the dark of his jeans nearly the same color as the asphalt he stood on, crossing his arms smugly across his chest as the t-shirt he was wearing pulled over the width of his shoulders, the black color a stark contrast against his pale skin. A grin pulled wide at his lips, showing off the faintest tease of his white teeth, mischief making his eyes bright, brighter than the sun, brighter, Eren thought, than any star he’d seen. He was-

Levi was-

Beautiful, Eren thought, watching the wind play with his dark hair as it blew by. And then, as Isabel launched herself from Eren’s lap and flung her way into Levi’s arms, he thought of Isabel’s smile when she’d said Levi had asked if Eren would like him, and there was a squeezing in his throat, like a mixture of hope and fear as Levi swept Isabel into his arms and laughed.

“Oh sure, hug him,” someone said, coming up from behind Levi and laughing as well. Eren recognized him after a second from some of Isabel’s old Instagram photos and the one she still had as her desktop background, feeling awkward as Farlan glanced his way and grinned. “Not like anyone else came all this way to see you or anything, Iz.”

“Farlan,” Isabel screamed and Eren watched as Levi visibly recoiled at the volume of her voice, dropping her like something venomous before she could elbow her way out of his arms and toward Farlan. Farlan, all sandy hair and light colored eyes, lit up like a Christmas tree at the sound of Isabel’s shout, teasing grin dropping into something that was soft around the edges as he opened his arms up for the red headed girl.

Farlan took Isabel’s weight slamming into him like a champ, not even rocking back on his heels like Levi did as she curled her arms around his neck and clung on for dear life. It was a sweet picture they made, one that Eren kind of wanted to take a picture of so he could tease Isabel later, but he was still too flummoxed by their arrival and could only watch, mouth open, as Farlan lifted Isabel up and swung her around in a wide circle. Isabel threw her head back, giggling wildly, her legs kicking happily as they spun, and spun, before slowing down until her sneakers skidded along the asphalt once more. A moment after that Eren had to look away, feeling like an intruder as Isabel and Farlan pulled back far enough that their noses almost brushed, his head ducked comically down to her level, their expressions both soft in such a way Eren wondered if this was what Levi had been talking about when he’d called the pair of them ridiculously unbearable in every way.

“Well,” Levi said. Eren jerked, lifting his head to find the other man standing in front of him, hands in his front pockets and grin crooked on his lips. He watched, transfixed, as his – friend? texting buddy? best friend’s brother? his something – shifted from foot to foot, the sun crawling over his sharp cheekbones and making the different shadows of grey in his eyes glitter like swirls of snow dancing over ice. “I did warn you they’re fucking ridiculous to watch, didn’t I? Having second thoughts about coming down with us already?”

Eren licked his lips and cleared his throat, swallowing a little before he shook his head. He made to get to his feet, reaching up to drop his phone on top of the box behind him before he planted his hands on the ground to help himself up. But then there was Levi, stepping forward and extending a hand, and the world slowed and narrowed again, this man before him framed by the blue clear sky, teeth showing as he bit the edge of his lip around a lopsided smile.

“Need a hand,” Levi asked quietly, and Eren swallowed again, once and then twice, before reaching out and pressing their hands together, palm to palm.

Levi lifted him up, easier than Eren could have ever expected, and there was a moment as he was levered to his feet that he thought oh god, Isabel’s going to kill me. But then that passed and Eren was staring down at Levi, at least four inches between them, Eren’s frame blocking out the sun and casting the man in shadow they were standing so close.

“Hey,” Eren blurted, forgetting for a minute how to fucking speak. He had known, somewhere deep down, that he would do something like this; texting Levi had sometimes been too much, had felt like a whole fucking marching band had wedged itself in his chest, so it made sense that meeting him, face to face, would be like trying to hold a star in his fucking palms, but he’d hoped, a little, that he could get through this meeting without being a complete embarrassment. His hopes, as such, were quickly being dashed upon the concrete at his feet.

Levi, at least, didn’t seem to mind. He only snorted, tipping his head back to look up at Eren, rocking back on his heels but not moving to step away as he said, “hey yourself, Eren.”

Don’t make a fool of yourself, Eren thought desperately. But also, ringing around the back of his head like a wailing siren was the thought, he said my fucking name.

(Somewhere, somehow, Eren thought Jean might be crying with laughter into his hands without a fucking clue why he was laughing. Jean had mocked him, sometimes, back when he was still surly and bitter the year before, about how disinterested Eren could be in other human beings.

“One day,” Jean had said, pointing at him with a fork in the dining hall as somewhere behind them both Marco laughed with someone who wasn’t Jean, “one fucking day, Eren, you’re gonna see someone who makes you lose your mind, just a little bit. And I hope I’m there to laugh at the complete ass you make of yourself, you hear me?”

Eren had rolled his eyes, at the time. Now, though, standing with the sunlight beating down on his back, heat creeping across his cheeks and into his ears, Eren thought of that moment with a sinking heart.

Jean was going to laugh himself sick when Eren told him about this. That was, at least, if Isabel didn’t kill him for possibly crushing on her brother first.)

“You’re not fucking pissed, right?”

Eren blinked, reaching back and shoving his hands in his back pockets, just in case. “What?”

Levi gestured between them with a flick of his wrist, his head ducking to one side like they were sharing a secret. Behind him, Isabel and Farlan were still just kind of gazing or whispering or something, tucked away in their own little corner of the world, and Eren felt like he understood the feeling, ducking his head down to Levi and trying not to look like a fool.

“You’re not pissed that we showed up?” Levi glanced up through his lashes, something mischievous chasing a flicker of amusement across his eyes as he looked up at Eren. “I mean, there was a legitimate project, that wasn’t a fucking lie, but we could’ve warned you that we were still showing up once we figured it out that we could, so…”

“Uh, no,” Eren said adamantly and quickly, so much so that he nearly ran his words into the tail end of Levi’s. “Like, the opposite of that, actually. I’m so glad you’re here instead of Hanji, I was seriously not looking forward to showing up at your place in a coffin.”

Levi’s face flickered again, that mischief with amusement thick on its heels, and when he tucked his head against his shoulder it took a minute for Eren to realize he was laughing, the faintest shade of pink dusting across his sharp cheeks. Heart lurching in his chest Eren grinned, knowing the expression was wide and reckless on his cheeks and unable to stop it as he huffed out a laugh as well.

After a second Levi straightened up, chin picking up until, with Eren ducking a little, they were more on a level playing field. Eren felt Levi’s eyes trace his features, in a move that felt physical to his overactive imagination, before Levi laughed again.

“I like the glasses,” he said, before Eren could ask. His eyes were glittering as he added, “they make you look much less mangy than advertised.”

Eren groaned, though it trembled with laughter he couldn’t hide at all, pulling his hands almost reflexively out of his pockets to cover his face. Isabel’s heart glasses were still there, something he’d adjusted to so quickly he’d actually forgotten about, and Eren couldn’t believe that his first meeting with Levi had gone like this, Eren wearing ridiculous heart-shaped sunglasses like a lunatic.

“Thanks,” Eren muttered dryly, cheeks hot under his palms. He pulled his hands away and cleared his throat, feeling an impulse pull at him. He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it once the idea had taken shape in his head. Isabel, he figured, was a bad, bad influence on him. “But,” he said, as impishly as he could muster, plucking the glasses off his face and leaning forward to drop them on Levi’s nose, “I think they’ll look better on you, Levi.”

Levi sputtered before laughing, the sound loud and ringing, his nose scrunching up under the bridge of the sunglasses, and Eren felt so breathless and tongued tied for a moment he could only watch, grinning along with Levi as he looked up at him. “Thanks,” Levi muttered, just as dryly as Eren had, “but no. Get these things off of me before Isabel makes me take a picture in them, Jesus Christ.”

Picture, Eren thought. He swallowed. “Well,” he said, feeling like a firework seconds from going off but unable to shut up, “if I promise you don’t have to wear the glasses, will you take a picture with me?”

The parking lot around them seemed to still, silence cloaking their shoulders as Levi blinked at Eren’s offer. Heat that had nothing to do with the coming summer months or the sun beating down from above crawled over Eren’s skin and he knew his cheeks were probably rosy with it, if not his ears and his neck too. He clenched his hands at his sides and tried to find a way to take it back, to laugh it off as a joke, to apologize and offer to call someone to get him instead because he was ruining this already, Jesus fucking Christ, but the words wouldn’t come. And then, after another dozen heartbeats where Eren kept waiting to be struck by lightning or keel over from a heart attack, Levi licked his lips and snorted.

“Sure,” Levi said, voice strangely tight, cheeks stained a pink that was growing darker and darker as the seconds ticked by. Eren watched, transfixed, as Levi stepped forward until they were toe to toe, folding the sunglasses and tucking one leg of them into the collar of his t-shirt as he moved closer to Eren.

Eren swallowed. “Yeah,” he asked, like an idiot. Levi, in response, darted him a look Eren almost wanted to call fond, the corner of his mouth quirking up in the slightest of smirks as he reached a hand up and dragged it through his hair.

“Yeah,” Levi echoed, voice teasing and warm. “I mean, I sure as shit didn’t tell Erwin to go fuck himself and drive seven hours here just to say no. You’re gonna have to come up with the clever fucking hashtags, though, I’m not doing that shit.”

“I can do the hashtags,” Eren said, reaching around and bending down to scramble for his phone when he realized he’d left it sitting on the box behind him on the sidewalk. It took a minute after he spoke to realize what Levi had said and when he snapped back around it was to Levi’s smirk, his eyes glimmering with something bright like satisfaction. Eren could admit his voice was a little shrill when he shouted, “you told your boss to what?”

“Former boss,” Levi said, and he kicked forward, nudging the toe of his sneaker into Eren’s gently. Eren felt his jaw drop. “I told him to go fuck himself and accepted a promotion to a different part of the company. Better pay, better hours, the whole goddamn nine – plus I get to carry my vacation time over, which means I can take as many days off this summer as I want.”

Eren blinked before he sputtered, a surge of joy rushing through him so quickly he almost dropped his phone. “Holy shit, Levi,” he said, reaching forward without thinking about it to grab at his shoulders excitedly. Under his palms Levi was warm, shoulders surprisingly muscular as Eren curled his fingers against the soft cotton of his shirt and rocked forward. “That’s incredible, holy fucking shit!”

Levi’s smirk twitched, bleeding into a grin before softening into a smile, one that was blinding and brilliant and almost more heart-stopping than the news that Levi didn’t have to work for Erwin anymore. At least half of their text messages on any given day were about how fucking awful Erwin was as a boss, so the fact that Levi had told him to go fuck himself was goddamn fantastic.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathed, knowing the awe in his voice was probably embarrassing, but unable to stop himself. “I wish I could have seen his face for that.”

“It was pretty fucking fantastic,” Levi laughed and it was only then, when he leaned into Eren’s hands on his shoulders, that Eren realized he was still touching him. “Though I imagine it was a face a lot like he probably made when you punched him, so we’re even.”

Eren swallowed and pulled his hands back slowly, letting them drop to his sides while he wrapped his head around the fond, soft way Levi was looking at him, was talking to him. He probably wasn’t supposed to feel a warm feeling spread throughout his chest into his limbs right now, but he did. Eren opened his mouth to offer to punch Erwin anytime he needed, but what actually came out was, “you’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

Levi sputtered, an action that wrinkled his nose, shook his bangs, and stained his cheeks pink-pink-pink in the most adorable of ways. He huffed before he answered, stepping forward and turning so his shoulder knocked into Eren’s, and then Levi’s head was leaning against his shoulder, his ice-chip, storm-cloud, steel-grey eyes peaking up at him through thick, dark lashes when Eren dropped his chin down to his chest to watch him move.

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi said, eyes glancing up at Eren and then away. A heartbeat passed, then another, before the man added, “the fucking job promotion was your idea anyway, so it’s not like I pulled that great scheme out my ass or anything.”

Eren remembered that conversation, vaguely, though it took a few minutes of blinking down at Levi before he could pinpoint it. He hadn’t meant it, at the time, not in a real concrete way like he thought it was something Levi could really do, but he’d been pissed and frustrated at Erwin for having Levi stay after to work late again while the asshole went home, so he’d typed out the text and sent it without thinking about it too deeply.

Can’t you just transfer to a different part of the company or something? Because this is bullshit and you shouldn’t have to put up with it, Levi, I swear to g o d if he tries to pull this shit on you over the summer I’m gonna knock his fucking block off.

It had, in retrospect, been a careless statement that he’d only half meant; he didn’t have the faintest fucking clue how big company office jobs went, if you could transfer departments or move around the building like that just to get away from an asshole supervisor, and in the end he’d only really been serious about how mad he was going to be in Levi’s defense over the summer.

He hadn’t meant to inspire Levi to tell Erwin to go fuck himself and actually move jobs. But, apparently, he had, and that realization crept through him like a cloud across the sky, blotting out everything else for a moment as Levi smiled up at him, nudging his elbow into Eren’s ribs gently and laughing when Eren finally just whispered, “holy shit, you’re kidding me.”

“Nope,” Levi said, lowering his voice to a whisper and popping the p sound as he did so. “After you texted me that, I mentioned it to Hanji, who mentioned it to their boss, who came into my office last night, slammed his hand on my desk, and said for fuck’s sake, Ackerman, just come work upstairs for me already.” Levi’s voice as he imitated the man Eren supposed was his new boss was an octave lower than usual, trembling around the edges with laughter Levi must have been holding back, edged with an accent Eren wondered if Levi hadn’t half made up on the spot.

There was no way the man, whoever he was, actually sounded like that. But right then, Levi grinning up at him, Eren didn’t care.

“Dude,” Eren said. Levi wrinkled his nose at the word, which Eren had been picturing him doing for weeks, ever since he’d first called Levi dude in a text message and gotten the responding response of no, no dude. The expression on the other man’s face was even more endearing than Eren had been imagining, which almost threw him off track for a second before he wrestled his thoughts back under control. “Dude, holy shit, I’m so- holy shit, Levi, that’s great.”

Levi hummed quietly in the back of his throat, a look of contentment falling over his face the same soft way sunlight was at the moment, chin very nearly propped on Eren’s shoulder as he tipped his face up toward him. “Yeah,” he said, soft and low and fond in a way Eren couldn’t believe, “it is.” A beat passed and then Levi added, “I was serious about that selfie, Eren.”

Eren wondered if it still counted as his heart lurching out of his chest when he was pretty sure his heart could be halfway across the parking lot, the way it had been acting since he’d laid eyes on Levi. “I, uh- me too,” he said quietly and he thought his voice was just as soft and low and fond as Levi’s was. He cleared his throat and brought his phone up, unlocking it with a tap of the home button and a swipe of his thumb against the screen. The picture of Eren and Isabel, curled up on the curb in the sunlight, was still enlarged on the screen, something that made Levi huff out a quiet laugh at his side.

“I think that’s the best picture I’ve ever taken,” Levi mused quietly. He pressed closer, like he was trying to get a better look, and Eren angled the phone to make it easier on him, shifting his arm and leaning his head down until they were bent together. His screen caught the glare of the light, more than a little, but it was still obvious, Eren and Isabel with their heads bent together, Eren’s arm thrown casually around her, her head leaned back against him with one of her arms propped on his knee in a way he hadn’t even noticed.

“Don’t tell Isabel I said this,” Eren confessed, “but this is probably the best picture taken of us, like, ever.”

Levi laughed, a sharp surprised sound as Eren hit the home button again and then swiped to tap the Instagram icon on the screen, and Eren couldn’t help but grin unrepentantly as he did so. “Your secret is safe with me,” Levi whispered, and Eren made a soft noise in response.

He opened up the camera feature then, holding the phone down and trying to angle it a little bit, since the sun was drifting too high overhead for them to get a good angle straight on. Levi pressed up on tiptoes as Eren wordlessly adjusted the camera view, Eren’s head bumping down until their temples were pressed together, Eren’s other arm coming around to help hold Levi steady against him, and there was a moment just before Eren clicked the button to take the photo where he glanced to the side and caught himself staring at the slope of Levi’s nose, at the pinkness still swimming in his cheeks, at the shadows of his lashes on his cheeks and the way his smile curved, just so, a joy so apparently it crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed his teeth from behind pink lips with the force of it.

“Eren,” Levi murmured lowly, laughter kicking against the syllables in Eren’s name in a way that made him dizzy. “I’d say take a picture, that it’d last longer, but that’s literally what you’re failing to do, so-“

Eren cut Levi off, ducking down a little further and slipping his arm around him so that Levi’s words stuttered to a tumbling halt. He managed to look at the phone’s screen at last, catching Levi’s eyes in the camera’s view, unable to look away from their matching pink cheeks, the way they were pressed nearly cheek to cheek. He almost snapped the photo on pure reflex the second he managed to grin, but he waited, running on gut instinct, and a second later the expressions on both their faces softened, Levi’s smile soft but bright, his own crooked in a way he didn’t recognize. He took the picture then and even though he should have pulled away, he didn’t, leaving his arm around Levi while he straightened up a bit and started tapping at the screen with his thumb.

“There,” he said, after a minute of typing and then re-typing the words when his thumb had hit the wrong letter. “What do you think?”

Levi ducked his head over the phone’s screen, reaching up to cup his hand around Eren’s and move the phone to suit his fancy. “He’s a little short for a Stormtrooper, but I think the Force is strong with @corporalcleansalot #whathappenedtoputmebackhuh #mangybyassociationnow #selfiesforsummer – you need to add one more to that.”

“I thought you said you didn’t do clever hashtags,” Eren teased. He tapped back on the caption box dutifully though, but before he could type whatever message Levi wanted to add, the other man plucked the phone from his hand and cradled it in front of his chest instead. Eren was left standing there, one arm around his back, with nothing else to do other than look and up slowly realize Isabel and Farlan were across the parking lot, giving them both twin amused looks from beside a rental truck.

“There,” Levi said, echoing Eren’s earlier words and dragging him away from the tidal wave of embarrassment that was currently cresting over him and threatening to drown him alive. He ducked his head quickly, reading what Levi had edited and then laughing, the sound of which was sharp and sudden, uncontrollable with surprise.

He’s a little short for a Stormtrooper, but I think the Force is strong with @corporalcleansalot #whathappenedtoputmebackhuh #wellyougrewonmeso #mangybyassociation #afateIcanlivewith #theErenandLeviadventures #selfiesforsummer

Eren cleared his throat, taking his phone back before tapping the button to post the photo. It took him a minute to find his words, unable to ignore how Isabel and Farlan were elbowing each other and snickering, Isabel’s phone making an appearance as she probably rushed to like his photo. “I like it,” Eren said at last, glancing down at his finished post before locking his phone and dropping his arm back down to his side.

Levi looked up at him, making no move to step out from under Eren’s arm, and snorted. “I like it too,” he murmured, pleased but soft. “Remind me to like that thing, once we’ve loaded up the truck.”

Eren’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he ignored it for the moment, reaching back to shove it in his pocket. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he agreed, grinning. “Should we-“ He gestured to the truck, where Isabel was shoving her phone under Farlan’s face, the other man bearing the onslaught with a shake of his head and a soft, fond laugh.

“Sure,” Levi said. But instead of stepping forward, he just brought his hands up to his mouth and leaned back against Eren, cupping his palms around his jaw to help carry his voice as he yelled, “if you two are done, can we get this shit loaded up and hit the road? Eren called dibs on shotgun.”

“If we’re done,” Isabel shrieked, whirling on them with a grin so wide and devilish Eren was suddenly worried about just how much his phone was buzzing in his back pocket. “You two were the ones going on and on, posing for photos and-“

“Chill Iz,” Farlan laughed, cutting into the girl’s rant and coaxing her to cross the parking lot by slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her forward. She fit under his arm with ease, like she was a puzzle piece, made to tuck her head against Farlan’s shoulder, and for a minute Eren hoped that Farlan had worked himself out, because if he hadn’t Eren was going to hurt him. “They weren’t doing anything you haven’t done before, don’t even start. And I thought we had an agreement, huh?”

“Agreement,” Levi echoed, sounding skeptical. He was still leaning against Eren’s shoulder, Eren thought hazily. Isabel, too seemed to realize that, glancing at the point where Levi’s body was pressed alongside Eren’s pointedly, before looking up and-

Winking at him.

Isabel was winking at him.

“What,” Farlan said, sounding much too dramatic as he put his free hand to his chest in mock offense. Eren didn’t know him well, but Isabel had talked about him before, a little, and it was easy to see the way the corner of his mouth twitched in mirth when Eren knew what to look for. “Why that tone of voice, Levi? Shouldn’t it be a good thing, Isabel and I in agreement? Aren’t you happy for us?”

Eren dipped his head, watching Levi arch his eyebrows in a way that was so much like Isabel while still being so different, so much so that Eren was captivated.

“I’d be happier if your agreements didn’t usually come back to bite me in the ass,” Levi said, his voice warm but dry, fond but tempered with sarcasm the way Eren had thought his texts had always been rich with. “Now, since there’s no fucking way you two only have three boxes and a duffle bag between the two of you, let’s get moving. I, for one, would like to get home before two in the fucking morning.”

Farlan lead Isabel past Eren and Levi’s spot, directing Isabel past the small pile of boxes and toward the lobby of her dorm building with ease. As they went Eren heard Farlan ask, “what’s the damage, Iz?”

“I have ten boxes,” Isabel replied, sounding thoroughly unapologetic. Farlan could be heard groaning, just before the door swung shut, and Eren felt the urge to laugh rise in him, filling his chest and crawling up his throat. He glanced down, looking at Levi only to realize Levi was looking up at him, and when their eyes met both of them snorted, the sound dissolving easily into a laughter that took Levi out from under Eren’s arm as he staggered sideways, one hand coming up to knuckle the corner of his eyes as he shook his head.

“Come on,” Levi said, stepping forward and reaching down to sling Eren’s duffle bag over his shoulder before he reached for one of the boxes. “We can probably get this stuff secured and figure out where we want to have lunch before they can get back with the first set of boxes.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a puzzle piece slotted into place in Eren’s chest when Levi cast a look over his shoulder at Eren and arched an eyebrow at him, obviously waiting for a response. It should have felt nerve wracking or awkward or some tangled up combination of the two, but it didn’t. For a moment, Eren could put all that aside and just breathed.

(There would be time to try and analyze just what it meant, when Levi looked up his lashes at him and went pink in the cheeks. There would be time to corner Isabel and ask a hundred and ten questions on is it okay if I maybe want to try kissing your brother, because god, Eren didn’t want to ruin their friendship over this, but that wink had to mean something. There would even be time to corner Farlan, maybe, and ask him if he was serious about not upsetting Isabel again, because that shit wasn’t going to fly and Eren was pretty sure Levi would help him with that one, but the point was-

There would be time, later, to take a step back and look at the picture they had just made, now that this puzzle piece had slotted into place. A whole fucking summer of time, in fact.

For right now, with Levi looking at him and his phone still buzzing thanks to his Instagram notifications, Eren just wanted to be a part of that picture.

He wanted to get lost in the tree, with no sense of what the forest looked like. He wanted to be a part of something bigger than him.

It was a feeling that came easy, with the way his body was still kind of tingling from having Levi tucked up against him. And it was a feeling that came even easier, with the way Levi was looking at him.

Eren Jaeger had gone through enough alone, and if the last year in college had taught him anything, it was that he didn’t have to live that way anymore.)

“We can hit the diner with the kick ass milkshakes I was telling you about last week,” Eren offered as he stepped forward and scooped up one of his boxes, catching Levi’s eye as he straightened back up. “You were saying you wanted to try one then, right?”

 “I was,” Levi agreed. He made his way across the asphalt and Eren followed him, lifting the box up as Levi lowered the back of the truck to make it easier for him to slide it in. “And that sounds good to me. That way tomorrow I can take you to that pizza place I was telling you about, on the boardwalk, with the old arcade games and shit.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Eren said, voice straining a little as he shoved the box into the back corner of the truck’s bed, by the back driver’s side window. Levi, meanwhile, walked around to open the passenger seat’s door, tucking the duffle bag under the seat there and then coming back around to stand next to Eren. Eren waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, before biting his lip and looking at Levi.

Levi, he found, was looking back at him.

(A lighthouse on the cliffs – a college student without a plan – a boy with a house and a father but nothing that felt like home.

There were a lot of ways Eren could have phrased what he’d been, before this school year, the same way he thought Isabel probably could as well, but there were just as many ways Eren could phrase what he was now, at the end of it.

A streetlight in the city – a college student finding his way – a boy with a list of apartment complexes and two roommates-to-be that felt like hope.

Out of all of them, though, his favorite was just this:

Happy.)

“We’re going to kick their asses at that two player arcade game you were telling me about, right,” Eren asked Levi quietly. Levi rolled his eyes and snorted, crossing his arms over his chest in the same way peacocks preened, a proud, disdainful gesture that shouldn’t have been so attractive, but was.

“We’re going to beat them so thoroughly they cry,” Levi swore, smirking widely. Across the parking lot Isabel and Farlan appeared, Isabel carrying two smaller boxes while Farlan teetered behind with two larger ones, and Eren watched them try and fit through the door, chest tight with the static feeling of unadulterated excitement that traced his nerves from head to toe.

It was, he decided, going to be a very, very good summer.