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There's a split second in time, the moment right after waking up, where thoughts cease to exist. It's a moment where emotions have yet to awaken, it's not blissful, but it's not depressing. It's nothing. When the light that seeps through the window blinds the eye that's been soaked in darkness, that is nothing.
The second you blink, it's over.
It all rushes back like a tsunami, consuming every bit of peace or semblance of normalcy as reality comes to ruin it.
Dust particles dance in the air, illuminated by the mid-morning light that peeks through the white, half drawn curtains.
He's awake now.
There's no reason to stay in bed. The brightness is intense, leaving it so that he can't sleep despite arms of slumber attempting to wrap itself around the boy. Eren's hair was disgusting, greasy, lying against his face, it rested against his pores. He should tie it back. The longer it sits there the more likely that pimples will form in the spots that it laid. His bladder was full, intense pressure in his gut was pushing to be released, it bordered the line of uncomfortable. However, he remained still, staring aimlessly at the pale, grey ceiling.
He didn't have it in him to move.
The ceiling's popcorn eyes bore back into his, creating an illusion, what seemed to be a ripple. He connected the dots, tracing them to form a familiar face. Everything reminded him of that face, it was strange how the subconscious works.
Eren waited a minute, debating whether he should get out of bed and piss, or try to succumb to sleep again.
Eventually, his desire to relieve himself won. He arched his back, his hands streching above his head, muscles straining as he released the tension in his body. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and cracked his back. He groaned in pleasure as his muscles relaxed. He placed his hands on the bed before standing up. The floor boards creaked under the weight.
He moved his hand across the night stand mindlessly. He glided over the meds he was supposed to take, piles of the ones he should've taken days prior disregarded and gathered like an offering. He reached for a hair tie and put it in between his teeth. His long fingers sewed through his dark hair, pulling it back into a low ponytail. He pulled the navy blue tie out and wrapped it around his hair three times.
He headed towards the bedroom door, stopping right before exiting. On his dresser was an array of framed photos.
The first one was of Eren and his fiancé from when they were kids. Their faces were round with youth, smiles big and teeth missing, shown off by the pull of their lips with their fingers. He had stripes of mud, war stripes, across his cheeks. Armin had a speck of mud on the cheek due to Eren mashing their cheeks together. The shorter boy's nose was crinkled in a way that made his heart thump, even after all those years, he never failed to make him smile. That one was framed in wood, a light brown color with the texture of a tree.
The second one he picked up despite a voice screaming at him to leave it alone. It was a long timeskip forward, all the way to senior year. It was a photo of the blonde alone, his cap was tilted and blush dusted his face. Yellow strands of hair peaked out from under the cap, framing his face in the most dorky yet attractive way. The apple of his cheeks were round and perky with the smile, the faintest of freckles resting upon them. His deep blue eyes peaked out from under his long dark lashes. He looked dazzling, exquisite, alluring. The black of the frame matched the black of his cloak. He rubbed his thumb along the smooth exterior, it was cold, dusty too. He placed the photo back down, making sure it was exactly where it had been. Once he was satisfied that it was right back where it had been he moved onto the next.
The next was a candid black and white picture of them. Eren's arms were wrapped around Armin's shoulders, his chin resting upon the blonde's head. It was a photoshoot that they'd been reluctant to do. Eren found that doing candid photos were boring, they took too long, and he always looked ugly in the end, especially next to Armin. Though their friend Jean needed subjects to take photos of, and he insisted it be them. It would be the only time Eren would admit that Jean did well.
Eren smiled to himself and caressed Armin's photographed face. He didn't wipe off the dust that layered on his thumb afterwards.
He trekked to the bathroom begrudgingly. The hinges of the door squeaked and rung around the house. His footsteps were loud in such a quiet setting, even though he was barely making a sound. He did his business and left. He didn't care to look in the mirror, he knew how gross he looked. He didn't care to brush his teeth, though he knew how rotten they must've become.
Just the grosser parts of depression, he supposes.
He walked back down the empty hallways. He wasn't particularity hungry, he hadn't been recently. He passed by the stairwell, never once checking over the railing to check if Armin had removed his shoes from spot or made breakfast for him.
He moved slowly back into his room, pausing to lean up against the door frame. He looked into the bland room; Dense air moved like a wraith from beyond the barrier of the frame. He knew what was waiting for him once he'd take a step inside. He'd be greeted by the ghost, and it would cling to him. It weight much more than it appeared, the first time he'd seen it, he sorely mistook how heavy it could be and had collapsed before he could even reach the bed. Now he was better prepared, but that didn't mean he was any more willing.
He finally took a step back in his room. The air seemed to swallow him whole like a tidal wave. Though like an experienced surfer, he took it adeptly.
He passed through the thick spiderwebs of regret and fell onto his bed the second it came into contact with his leg. He cocooned himself in his blankets and hoped that the would embrace him before he had the chance to check the time.
Though slumber never came. Instead he rolled over and picked up his phone to check the time
It was 6:57, the time he had expected it to be. His own body was his internal alarm clock, waking him up around the same time every morning. No new texts from his friends. They stopped trying long ago. He opened his phone and watched as the screen changed when he pressed on a call from his fiancé.
"Hey Eren." Armin's soft voice floated through the speaker, a melody that made Eren swoon, "I'm on my way to work, sorry I couldn't be there when you woke up." He put the phone down next to him, letting Armin's beautiful voice swim through the room.
"It's fine." Eren mumbled, scared his voice might crack if it were to be any louder. He wanted to hear Armin speak, he didn't want to cry and ruin the mood. So he swallowed thickly and let his lover continue.
"I stopped by Starbucks to get a drink and you'll never believe what happened to me." Armin gave a loving laugh at the last bit.
Eren rolled onto his side and stared at his phone longingly, "The guy in front of you paid for your order?"
"The guy in front of me paid for my order! I got some good luck today, I can feel it. Hopefully he's thankful for the fact that I ordered like, the cheapest thing on the menu." Eren chuckled softly as he listened to Armin retelling his morning, "I'm low on gas right now, maybe I should pick up a lottery ticket when I swing by the gas station. Now I know what you're about to say-"
Eren's eyes flickered down as he frowned pathetically, barely furrowing as exhaustion took his mobility away.
"-'Don't test your luck!' But I can feel it, babe," Eren tried not to wince at the nickname, "I'll only go if I have enough money though. Gas prices are way too high, so pray for me haha."
Eren doesn't believe in God. He could never. He couldn't fathom how there could be a God that let good people suffer.
Maybe there is a God and he's just very cruel.
Still, he brought his palms together weakly and uttered out the serenity prayer, the only one he knew.
He decided not to announce he had prayed.
"What time is it right now?" Armin asked frustrated. Eren chuckled softly as he pictured Armin's furrowed brows and pink cheeks that he protruded whenever he got embarrassed.
"Not sure," Eren lied. He hoped Armin wouldn't go to to the gas station. Maybe his car could break down along the way and he wouldn't be able to go.
"Just checked and it's 7 right now. 7's supposed to be a lucky number right?" Eren closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. "I can hear your judgement through the phone." Armin laughed, one where his teeth were hidden by his lips as they split apart and his dimples came out by the crease of his lips. "I'm just joking. I probably won't get one, I wanna treat you to something later." Eren could hear Armin's smirk. He wondered what Armin meant by surprise. Maybe it was dinner, maybe it was sex.
"And what might that be?" Eren mumbled playfully, though his voice lacked a certain buzz to it.
"But! I'm not telling you!" Armin giggled from the other end of the line. "It's good though, I promise."
"I bet it is," Eren chimed in and lifted his head off the pillow, this time speaking at least loud enough for someone to hear. He let it flop back onto the bed harshly. A ringing sound reverberated around his skull. Though the noise would normally drown out every other noise, he couldn't hear it.
His eyes trailed up and down his phone, glazing over as it filled Armin's space. He wanted to stick his hand out and touch the phone like he would Armin. Though he knew he couldn't. Not today. Maybe tomorrow he'd have enough courage.
With a cracking voice and red rimmed eyes, he hoarsely uttered, "It always is." He wondered if those words were enough to make up for everything, to express every emotion that runs through him daily, every thought never spoken and every sentence he cut himself off from.
He closed his eyes and braced for the worst.
"Is that-" Armin cut himself off.
The next bits happened in quick succession.
The first was a gasp. It was sharp, like he'd woken up from a nightmare. The sound itself felt like a knife, it was piercing, and it cut through the air like it was nothing.
The next was the sound of tires screeching and panicked gasps and whispers, whispers Eren had long given up trying to decipher.
Then was his name. It was desperate, panicked, like a mother calling for her lost child in a crowded mall. The last call of his name, spoken like a cry for God in war. It wasn't even his full name, just Er. It was one big final fuck you from the universe.
A sickening crunch boomed, like someone crushing an egg between their palms. It rang out for only a split second, though it stuck to the walls around him and mocked the sound. It repeated it's tragic song again and again and again until it was burned into his core and became a part of his very being.
Glass shattered and metal dented, being crushed beyond repair –beyond recognition–. The car's body banged like a chorus of drums as it was tossed over like a rag doll, once, twice, three times, four, five, and then slower six, seven, eight, and nine.
Then came the worst part.
Nothingness.
There would be no sound for another 12 minutes and 29 seconds before the sound of sirens would approach from the left. Then it would be 7 minutes and four seconds before someone –presumably an officer or paramedic– would find the phone and end the call.
Eren knew that by heart. In fact, he counted every second, every morning, every time he went to bed, he checked.
He listened to every second. He wasn't entirely sure why he put himself through that torture in the first place. Maybe he was waiting for Armin to eventually speak and tell him about how he just had something insane happen to him and how he probably couldn't go into work because of it, and then he would push back his hair from his forehead, like he always does- did. He'd place his hands on his knees and bend down like a yoga mom as he observed the damage. Then he'd tell Eren he'd be right back before taking a picture of what happened and sending it to him.
But that would never happen. Instead, he'd be stuck in a loop, listening to the silence like it would eventually speak.
The first time he had heard it, he was with Mikasa. They had already been told by officers that Armin die- was killed. Eren played the voicemail, not entirely sure why he was. As Eren heard the moment Armin's head hit the window and his neck snapped, Eren got up and paced to the spot he kept a shotgun and walked out of the house, dead fucking set on killing the drunk motherfucker who brutally and senselessly murdered Armin Arlert. He wanted to make him pay for taking away the dearest thing to his heart and the biggest chunk of his soul. But Mikasa knocked some sense into him.
Well, in reality, she just clung to him as she sobbed. The rest was a blurry mess that Eren doesn't care to try to remember.
He closed his eyes and made sure to keep a straight face. He took in three shaky breaths. He tried to ignore the tensing muscles im his throat or the stinging behind his eyes as he gave his best attempt at not crying. Thankfully it didn't take as much effort as it used to anymore.
Instead he was left with a sickening numbness, a raging beast in the pit of his heart, covered by a thick layer of dust that swirled round it menacingly.
And for 19 minutes and 69 seconds, memories flashed at break neck speed. Like a train racing by in the pitch black of the night, the images were bright headlights seen from a mile away but gone before you could even blink.
It started with the first time they met.
They were in the same kindergarten class. Then, Armin had hair that touched his shoulders. Eren had wondered why a guy would leave his hair so long when short hair was freeing, but he thought nothing more of it; after-all, his own father had longer hair than most men. Eren's name plate sat next to the boy and he took his seat. The blonde turned and looked at him with the biggest and bluest eyes he would ever see. From that day, Eren was Armin's. Captivated by the way the ceiling light reflected off his baby blue irises, the black hole of his pupils that held the wonders of the world, and the beauty that those eyes held. Eren was his from the start.
Then there was the summer of first grade. Armin swatted flies and mosquitos away from his face as they tried to taste the melting bomb-pop that surrounded his lips and dripped down his hand. The two refused to use bug spray because it was sticky and smelled awful, though as mosquito after mosquito bit them, they sorely regretted that decision. A mosquito bit Armin's cheek and the spot inflamed in an itchy fire. Armin couldn't seem to get rid of the itch so Eren kissed his cheek, sticky, red lips and all. Armin smiled and raised his hand to the spot Eren kissed and smiled, his chubby cheeks were round like an apple and just as red too. In hindsight, the syrupy popsicle that stuck to his lips probably did nothing but irritate the spot, but the act itself was pure and captured the essence of childhood innocence.
There was also that time Armin fell off his scooter and scraped his upper lip in fourth grade, causing it to look like he had a semi-permanent nose bleed. Hitch told him he looked weird and he came crying to Eren. How Eren then did his hair on the playground and told him how pretty he was. His hair looked nothing less than elegant in those braids. Soon enough people only complimented his hair and paid no attention to the scrape on his face. Armin was left so happy he hugged Eren and held his hand for the rest of the day, the only evidence left of a saddened boy were the faintest streaks of dried tears.
In sixth grade, Eren failed his SOL. No one else in his grade failed, no one but Eren. He wanted to keep it to himself, but rumors spread, as they do, and Eren was riddled with shame. During recess he ran off to hide from prying eyes. He softly weeped as thoughts of not leaving sixth grade overwhelmed him. It wasn't long before Armin found him there, pressed against the brick building, sniffling into his palms. The blonde sat next to the boy and wrapped his arms around him. The two were always physically close, though there came a time where it became blatantly obvious that their love for contact wasn't normal behavior among boys their age and seldom did it. Eren leaned into the touch, turning his head and sobbing into Armin's shoulder. Armin ran his slender fingers through Eren's unkempt hair and whispered words of encouragement to him.
Eren would go on to retake the SOL and pass. At their elementary graduation ceremony that year, Eren hugged Armin and came upon the conclusion that it was stupid they had ever stopped being so affectionate when it felt more than right, Armin was his guiding light and savior, the person he treasured the most.
Middle school was much alike elementary. Well, despite a few very obvious facts: they now had classes with different teachers for each subject and wouldn't be together like they were in elementary again, their bodies were changing physically, and their hormones seemed to be far too active.
He found his heart tended to burn when he caught sight of honey blonde hair, or really anything that seemed golden in color and wispy in nature. The bright blue color of the sky seemed dull when compared to the atmosphere that lay behind Armin's eyes. Eren sought out touch more and more often, he held Armin's hand as they walked to school, excusing the action as something friends just do with each other. He would pay attention in class and try to ace his homework so when he did he could hug Armin in celebration. He was constantly insisting that Armin tutor him, bringing up his failed SOL as an excuse. He stayed up late at night, connecting the dots of the dust that floated around his room until it formed the most beautiful face known to mankind.
It was at this age that he also got a cellphone. He spent endless nights texting Armin when he should've been sleeping. Being exposed to so many new people, he made many new friends, most of which picked up on his infatuation early on, even if Eren wasn't sure of it himself. He texted his friends about Armin and how smart he was, how cute he was, how short he was, how long his hair was, how good he smelled, anything he could tie back to Armin, he would.
For the most part, they stayed the same. Armin joined the theater program in eighth grade and reserved a seat for Eren specifically. After the show, the two went to a diner and then to an after party where Armin fell asleep on his shoulder. There was a multitude of sleepovers when Eren would cuddle Armin as they watched horror movies and blame his racing heart on the scariness of the movie. Jean, who attended these parties, would scream at them to stop being gay and that the movie wasn't even scary; however, all he ever received from those comments were flipped birds and comments on his horse-like appearance.
Towards the end of eighth grade, Eren decided he needed to get over his crush, believing it would tear apart their friendship. He tried to crush on a few girls, namely the blonde ones like Historia and Annie. He tried dating Annie, though it lasted less than a month and they never got any further than even holding hands. During this time, Armin talked to him less and less and Eren didn't know why. But he quickly broke it off and Eren realized he couldn't replace Armin, he never could, and he came back crawling to the boy once again. They fell back into place as best friends who could never be spotted without the other. Except he didn't mind, he was happier than ever just being with him, even if he was viewed as a friend at most.
In high school, he was exposed to much, much more. He only grew more infatuated, and girls grew so with him. Eren didn't want them, and that demeanor only seemed to attract more. But he couldn't, not when his whole body reacted to Armin, even his name alone was enough to make him swoon. His palms would go sweaty, his mind would feel too fuzzy to think, his pupils would dilate and he'd hide his face, heat would pool in his stomach –a new thing that he'd never experienced before–, and his head would pull like a compass in the direction of Armin.
Then there was their first kiss. The two were driving in the night in the pouring rain. Technically, he shouldn't have been driving since his license didn't allow it, but Armin needed it. And Eren would do anything for Armin, even lose his drivers license. Armin had been acting differently, he was sheepish and seldom touched or looked at him. A part of Eren believed Armin must hate him for something, though a bigger part of him screamed at him 'he knows'.
Armin told Eren to park by the nearest lake. Almost the second after he complied, Armin was on him like a wild animal. His lips were pressed fiercely to his, they barely moved but it felt like a car crash, like the Big Bang, like they themselves created a universe and watched as it expanded and swallowed their surrounding in it's path.
Since then, they'd been unstoppable. Since then, they only got closer, they explored sides of each other no one else would see, they helped each other at their lowest and kissed them at their highest. The best and the worst was bound to come their way, but as long as one had the other, there was nothing that they couldn't overcome.
Or so they thought.
Or so Eren thought.
But it became increasingly obvious that he could not overcome this.
Not when the yellow light of the bathroom reminded him of Armin's silky hair.
Not when the blue of the sky reminded him of Armin's eyes.
Not when everything reminded him of all he had lost and all he would never, ever, get back.
All the times Armin pressed himself to Eren's side. How he would rest his head against his shoulder and then shift his body impossibly close until they felt more like one person than two. How he would nuzzle his face into Eren's neck when Eren ran his fingers through Armin's hair and how he made the sweetest noises when Eren scratched the right spot. How when he wanted a kiss, he'd lift his head up and stare at Eren with a pout until Eren kissed it off.
Or how beautiful Armin was when he was naked. Whether for sex or just to be naked, Armin was breathtaking. His collarbones were thin but strong, they stood out against his small frame, the dip at the sternum fierce, Eren used to love running his mouth along it. His skin bruised so easily, Eren would suck hickeys all over his body to the point where even a pound of makeup couldn't hide the deep purple marks. His chest was stunning too, it was slightly defined and lacked the chest hair that most men their age had. His nipples were ever so slightly larger than most, but that made them all the more sensitive. His thighs were well defined yet soft to the touch. Everything, every inch, every speck, every cell in his body was enchanting and only made Eren fall harder.
Or the small things that Armin did that no one else knew of. How evil Armin could be behind his adorable face. How Armin would sway when he cooked, like he was listening to music even when there was none. How he would spin the second he felt Eren's eyes on him and dance over, grabbing his hands in his and waltzing with him into the kitchen. How Armin was terrified of butterflies, but not for the reason that they're intimidating, but that he is. Armin, ever so cautious and caring, feared tearing butterfly wings. How he shook when he cried, how he clung to Eren like he was a lifeboat and had been sinking for longer than he could swim. How his cheeks looked when he blushed, all blotchy pink and red.
How Eren would give more than everything to kiss his cheek with sticky popsicle residue stuck to his lips and watch the fact the apple of his cheeks turned as red as the popsicle, making it impossible to tell which from which.
It became increasingly obvious with each passing day that he would forget these memories within the coming years. He'd no longer be able to turn to his best friend and ask, "Hey remember that time we-." Moments they spent together and buts of Armin would slowly slip from his grasp like sand and he'd be left with an incomplete puzzle, lacking too many pieces to figure out the full picture.
And like a bullet wound that wouldn't heal, Eren would stitch it together with the strings of fate that tied himself to Armin. Until tomorrow, when he would tear it open as he listened to the call once again.