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Chapter Text

There were three things Armin Alert loved in his life: his family, his cat Miso, and winning.

Now, you might be thinking, one of these things is not like the other. And you would be right; Miso was recently introduced into his life, so it might be too early to say. But Armin loved him anyway.

As for his family, his grandpa was one of the greatest men Armin ever had the pleasure of knowing. He took him in after his parents passed and since then, it had been just the two of them. Sunday night Westerns, game nights with the neighbors, and trivia on the way to school, had all combined to make Armin feel more loved than he ever could have dreamed of after such a loss. It may have been small, but he truly did love his family. 

And then there was winning. Some may call it superficial, but in a way, winning was a family to Armin. Every time he competed and took home a trophy, he saw himself as being inducted into a secret club of sorts, a certain hall of fame; the one place he knew he would always fit in. Game recognizes game and all that. 

Winning made him feel special . And he loved that feeling more than anything.

You could also argue that he loved his best friends, Mikasa and Eren, depending on how much they were getting on his nerves at the moment. And at this current moment, as they listed the millionth reason why he should date you, he was not feeling the love.

They were currently lounging on the couch of Armin and Eren’s shared apartment, which Mikasa practically lived in at this point. It was somewhat of a safe space for Armin, until the two of them came over and started harassing him about his love life. He could deal with third wheeling them, but when they insisted he get a girlfriend, he couldn’t handle it. He already had everything he wanted in life; why would he need you?

You moved to Shiganshina only a couple of months ago and yet you were already a part of his daily life. This wasn’t out of choice no, but rather because Mikasa and Eren adored you and invited you to every gathering where it used to be just the three of them. This wouldn’t normally annoy him too much, but there was a weird tension between the two of you; you just didn’t mesh. 

He wanted to like you, he really did . You were an intelligent girl and not too hard on the eyes either, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. You were like a parasite, sucking away his only friends and that wasn’t even the worst part! You had even taken something he arguably valued more: his title. 

Armin was at the top of the class, the certifiable genius that everyone talked about. He had held his position since he was in diapers and he didn’t plan on giving it up soon. But now, here you were, threatening his livelihood with your genius brain.

He hated it. 

And he was pretty sure you did too. Why else weren’t you as easily charmed as everyone else? Why else didn’t you follow his figure with your adoring eyes as he walked into class. Everyone else did?

“C’mon Armin you’re perfect for each other. And think of all the double dates we can go on!” Chanted Mikasa as she laid back onto Eren’s lap. 

“You’re sounding repetitive Mikasa,” said Armin. He stuck his chin up, a childish move, albeit one that felt good. This caused Eren to roll his eyes and push him playfully.

“She's right man. Stop acting like you’re better than that. At the end of the day, she’s a girl and she’s hot. Just go for it.” 

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue with Eren about calling you hot, but stopped, unable to deny she would call you hot too. You had the whole sexy nerd thing going on and damn if it didn’t attract most of your class and even some seniors too.

“Sure she’s… attractive, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her. She’s…” He tried to think of the way you irritated him, “Annoying.” He settled on.

“Annoying? Armin you're annoying, she’s perfectly nice.”

“Don’t tell me this is about her tying you?” Mikasa groaned, giving a look to Eren. 

“Oh it so is,” he shook his head, laughing as Armin’s cheeks turned red. 

“What no-“ Armin tried to defend himself but his look gave it away. Just last week, he had been pulled into Mr. Smith’s office for their weekly meeting. Armin knew it was a good way to get in with the head of school, so he started a tradition of Tuesday Morning Coffees in his office. He’d buy Mr. Smith an Americano and himself a Dark Roast.

Normally they talked about Armin’s stellar academic record or new scholarships he could apply to. However, as he sat at the chestnut desk across from the intimidating man, he felt a wave of unease. 

Mr. Smith has revealed to him that there was a new student who was “rivaling Armin’s record”. He said it like it was a good thing, and it took everything in Armin to not spasm in panic. Instead, he settled for a slight twitch of his eye as he explained that she was currently at the same GPA as Armin, a perfect 4.0, at the same amount of credits (an obscene amount that had to be requested by a counselor), and also a student athlete. Basically girl Armin. 

With a firm pat on the back, Armin left Mr. Smith’s office with an uncharacteristic demeanor, his back hunched in shame. You wouldn’t have recognized him from afar, with his bright blue eyes looking suddenly dimmer and losing their usual shine.

But Armin Arlert was never sad, at least on the surface. So instead, his depression turned into irritation at you and you alone. And perhaps now his best friends. 

***

Armin liked to keep his schedule simple, although his definition was very different from what one would normally consider, “simple”. 

In highschool he found that, with all his activities, he was overwhelmed and did everything mediocrely. He was spread so thin that he couldn’t be great at things. He was merely good and that was not sufficient. 

He was always great. 

So when he got to college, he decided he would manage his time better by devoting it to a select few items: Model United Nations, tennis, volunteering at a local school to teach kids coding, and finally his rigorous course load.

He loved the things he did, although he carefully picked them for how much they would help him in his future. Model UN helped him practice diplomacy and organized debate, tennis made him fit and kept him in shape, and his classes would prepare him for any graduate or doctorate programs he may pursue in the future. Volunteering didn’t necessarily benefit him in the usual capacity, but he did it because he truly enjoyed it. He was at the end of the day, a good person, albeit a little stuck up.

Today was somewhat of an easy day. He started with Theory of Computation in the morning, had a light lunch at noon, and then tutored in the library for a few hours. Now, he was on his way to tennis practice, his pristine white bag in hand. The tennis courts were on the south side of campus, so he usually walked. Fortunately, his favorite facilities guy, Hannes, happened to be driving the golf cart around so he managed to hitch a ride. Waving the older man goodbye, he set out for the courts, rack already in hand. 

University of Shiganshina was one of the top schools in the nation, known for its stellar academics and D1 athletics. Armin was here on a tennis scholarship, although his academics would have qualified him for a full ride on their own. Mikasa and Eren were also here for sports, doing Field Hockey and Baseball respectively. They were absolute beasts on the field, to an extent that scared Armin. Some days he felt very fortunate to be playing the civil game of Tennis. 

The sun was starting to set, illuminating the court with the beautiful paint of dawn. The lights were just starting to come on and as usual, his team started to pair up and rally. Usually, the women’s team practiced with them, so a few girls waved hi to Armin as he walked to the right side of the court. He started to hit the ball against the wall to warm up, practicing his serve in the corner. He got into his usual rhythm, hitting the ball back and forth at a fast pace. He was about to hit the ball, when a more than familiar voice called out to him.

“Armin?” He turned his head to the source in horror, finding you standing there in a pair of black shorts and a tight ponytail. 

What. Were. You. Doing. Here.

He was so lost in his internal panic that he completely forgot the ball that was going straight for his head.

“Look out!” The voice yelled but it was too late, the ball hitting him smack dab in the right side of the head. Armin yelped, clutching his face as you gasped. 

Ouch.

You ran over to him, crouching to where he sat on the floor clutching his eye.

“Sorry, that was probably my fault.” You said, as he felt for the bruise that was already starting to form.

“You don’t say?” He deadpanned, refusing to look at your face. It was uncharacteristically crass, which surprised even himself.

“I’ll go grab you some ice.” You announced, starting to stand back up. 

Good , he thought. He needed to be alone before he let his easy going persona slip any further. He had a few moments to compose himself, before the rest of the team came over. They surrounded him like a moth did a flame, uttering their concern.

You made it back in record time. He watched you slip in between the crowd and hand him the bag of ice alongside a wide smile.

“Sorry again Armin.”
“No problem.” He returned the smile, although it physically pained him . It was so forced. 

“Any way I can make it up to you?” 

“Don’t worry about it. It was just an accident after all. I was a little surprised to see you here though; I didn’t know you played tennis?”

“Oh I actually don’t, or I didn’t until this year. I did badminton at my old school, but since they don’t offer that here, Mr. Smith recommended I join the team. Turns out I’m not that bad.” You giggled, gesturing to the racket in your hand.

He felt the eye twitch coming back as he realized you had made it onto the D1 team with barely any experience. Taking a deep breath, he responded.

“Well good for you. I look forward to seeing you at practice.” He gave you another painful smile, before taking off to the trainer to make sure he wasn’t concussed. 

This was the first time in his life he’d been provoked to hit a woman

Chapter Text

They say that certain moments in your life are definitive. For some, it’s your first day of school or work. Others, it’s the day you meet the love of your life. For you, however, it was a sunny day in fourth grade. 

There you were, center stage at the annual regional spelling bee. It was between you and this boy who you absolutely detested. The final word was hydrogen and the boy mistakenly swapped out the o for another e. 

What a novice , you remember thinking.

You proudly stepped up to the mic with your chin held high and let the spotlights cover you like rays of sunshine. You basked in the feeling of the attention, of the bated breaths waiting for you to answer. There was no other feeling like it.

And of course you got it correct. You had always been a good student, but you’d never been the best before. And from that day, you realized you wanted to feel like this all the time

 Maybe you were imagining it, but you swore the world saw you differently, like you held greater weight in its eyes. You loved feeling respected, feeling envied .

If jealousy were a scent, you’d bottle it. 

There was nothing you wanted more than to be the best. And the best you were, until you realized he existed.

Standing at a little over 5’11, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, was your arch nemesis:

Armin Arlert

You wanted to like him, you really did . He was an intelligent guy and not too hard on the eyes either, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. He was so damn pretentious.

You were 90% sure your little feud was one-sided, but that didn’t make it any better. It wasn’t like he had done anything to you; he just was so annoying. And once you realized you disliked him, it was impossible to stop. 

You knew you were being dramatic. You suppose things could have been a lot worse. Besides, with Armin came Mikasa and Eren. It was only a few weeks into the semester and you already had two amazing friends in them. 

The couple meant a lot to you. They were so kind, especially since you knew no one coming here. You were secretly terrified of having to sit alone at every football game and meal. You had heard horror stories of students transferring and having no friends. You couldn’t imagine what your year would have been like if Mikasa never approached you that day in the dining hall.

And while he was definitely a bit annoying, Armin wasn’t too bad. You would happily pretend to like him if it meant you could keep hanging out with your friends. Besides, he was pretty nice to look at and since you were both majoring in computer science, you did have to see him a lot. 

For instance, as you walked into your Algorithms class, there he was, sitting right in the front row like always. He was wearing a baby blue jumper and some loose khakis, listening intently to the teacher. You considered sitting next to him as a show of amity, but decided against it, ultimately choosing a cozy spot in the back.

There was one other boy up there, lazily splayed onto two chairs. He was wearing dark green cargo pants and a distressed t shirt from some band you had never heard of. You’d noticed him before back here, always half awake. You didn’t know his name, only that he showed up to class everyday smelling like weed. He had a cute face and a buzzcut, always giving you a friendly wave which you returned before grabbing your neatly color coded notes. 

The class began and you grabbed a pen, jotting down the important things your professor said. You felt the all too familiar eye twitch forming as you heard another voice start to pipe in. 

You’ve noticed in the past couple of weeks that Armin loved to hear himself talk. Why else would he feel the need to raise his hand every five seconds and ask some hyper-specific question that the professor wasn’t even sure how to answer? You tried not to roll your eyes since it didn’t seem to be bothering anyone else. In fact, they all seemed to eat it up. 

“Bro shut the hell up,” muttered the kid a few seats away. You raised an eyebrow and turned towards him, letting out a quiet “amen.”

He let out a huff of amusement and to your surprise, moved to sit directly next to you. 

“Yo I don’t think I know your name.” He whispered quietly, outstretching his hand. “I’m Connie.” You took it, flashing him a smile and introducing yourself.

As you did, Armin raised his hand again and asked a purely theoretical question way above the professor’s paygrade. 

“Do you think he practices those questions in the mirror before class everyday?” You asked, staring down at the blonde head in scrutiny.

“I like to think that he’s actually a robot and those are just programmed into him.” Responded Connie, taking a sip of his energy drink. This caused you to laugh, earning a few stares from the students in the row below. You muttered a quick ‘sorry,’ trying to pay attention to the professor. 

Armin noticed your outburst too, rolling his eyes as he looked back at you. You glared at him, tuning in just to hear the professor ask a question.

“Can someone tell me the name of one of the two types of searching algorithms?” Armin shot up his hand again, but you beat him to it. You usually never talked in class, but your arm seemed to have a spiteful mind of its own. 

“Yes Miss?”

“I’ll give you both, sequential and binary.”

“That’s correct.” The professor smiled and you sat back proudly, not missing the glare Armin shot you. This continued for the rest of class, the two of you in a silent competition of who could raise their hand the fastest. You even kept track at the top of your notes, tallying your wins. 

Was it petty? Childish? All of the above?

Absolutely. But was it fun? Absolutely.

By the time the lecture was over, you had won, 22-20. Connie noticed the tallies and gave you a proud nudge as you stood up to leave. “Well look who did the impossible.” He grinned as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

You grinned back. “I had no idea other people were annoyed by him.”

“Are you serious? Sure everyone thinks he’s the next Steven Hawking, but at the end of the day he’s just annoying.”

“I know right? And the worst thing is, we have mutual friends so we’re always hanging out.” You groaned, pushing the doors open.

“You poor, poor thing.” He pretended to pout. “Say, would you wanna grab lunch? I’m starving after that class.” 

You nodded, happy at the possibility of another friend. 

The two of you walked to the Scout Dining Hall and grabbed some burgers, talking while you ate. The food was mediocre at best, but it was nice to get to know Connie. He was surprised to hear that you were a transfer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you transfer?” He asked, tossing a couple of fries in his mouth.

You shrugged, “the campus seemed great when I toured, but then I went there and it just sucked. My roommate was crazy, the teachers were misogynistic, and their comp sci department had no funding. The final straw was them withdrawing most of my scholarship money because they were having budget problems.”

“Really? That’s horrible,” Connie frowned. He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too.” you smiled.

Once the two of you finished eating, you went your separate ways. You had yet another CS class, but unfortunately Connie wasn’t in this one. You realized just how much you missed his comments when you were sitting in the back by yourself. Armin kept up his yapping, but you didn’t feel like talking at all. 

When class ended, you packed up your stuff and started the walk back to your apartment. It was about a twenty minute walk from campus, but one that was usually enjoyable on account of how pretty the area was. The campus was in the beginning stages of Autumn and the leaves were dyed hues of yellow and orange. There was a cool fall breeze in the air and you hugged your sides, trying to stay warm.

The wind was rather harsh and the fallen leaves began to scatter around you in a sort of mini tornado. A nearby tree was shaking violently and a white flier poorly taped on, detached and flew towards you. You ran to pick it up and reattach it, but you found your interest piqued by its contents. Smiling to yourself, you stuffed the paper in your bag and continued your walk back home.

It was incredibly hard to find a place to live, especially as a transfer, so your apartment was a lot farther from campus than you would have liked. 

The lack of housing available also forced you to share your tiny apartment with not one but two roommates and a couple at that. You didn’t originally know that Ymir and Historia were dating until you walked in on them making out on the couch one day after class. Ever since then, you made them promise to leave a sock on the door so you wouldn’t walk in on them doing far worse.

However, besides that minor detail they were pretty good roommates. Historia was a dream, usually waking up early to make you all breakfast. Her side of the bathroom was always sparkly clean and she would even clean your room when it was her turn to vacuum. Every time she passed you, her floral perfume caressed your senses and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if she was an angel.

Then there was Ymir, whose first words to you were, “who the fuck let this bitch in?” 

However, once you got to know her she was actually pretty alright. The brunette pretended not to care about you, but would still listen to all of your stories and give you good, honest advice. She knew you loved the bottom chocolate part of ice cream cones so she would buy packs of drumsticks and then say she “didn’t like the ends.” And when you came crying into the apartment because your professor was rude to you, she comforted you and offered to beat him up. And when you said it was alright, she flooded his rate my professor page with the most heinous things.

They made a good pair and were your first friends at Shiganshina, before you got to meet Mikasa and Eren. You didn’t usually hang out with them outside of the apartment, but they were always there for you anyways. 

You walked the four flights of stairs it took to get to your apartment and unlocked the door, checking for any socks. Seeing none, you walked in and saw Historia and Ymir making butter chicken. It smelled heavenly and they offered you some, but you politely refused, having already eaten. You opened your bedroom door and tossed your things on the floor, before plopping onto your bed.

As you stared up at the ceiling, you felt the exhaustion creeping up your bones. It had been a busy couple of weeks and it was finally hitting you. You would consider your transfer a success, but you were tired.

Turning out your lamp, you closed your eyes and let the peaceful wave of sleep roll you on its tide.

Chapter Text

Armin came into class the next day with his usually perfect hair disheveled and his eyes dull. He had tried to fix it in the mirror, but gave up when he realized you can’t fix whatever the hell this was. 

It turns out the cheapest place on the market was the cheapest for a reason. The rental websites he had rigorously scoured failed to mention one key fact about his building: it was directly next to a frat house. And it just so happens that this was one of the big philanthropy weeks for the frat so they had events ALL WEEK LONG. 

He had tried everything to dull the noise, but it was no use. And when he consulted Eren, the boy just shrugged and told him to let them have their fun (all of his friends were in frats). 

But Armin couldn’t just do that! He had homework, so much homework . So he used the fact that he couldn’t sleep to get more studying done. He was able to solidify most of the content he didn’t understand last night. And now, well now, he looked like shit.

He took his usual seat in the front row and tried to comb down his hair with his fingers. Upon first sight, the professor raised a brow as if to ask, “are you alright?”

Armin nodded, flashing a half smile, before leaning his head on his palm. The fluorescent classroom lights burned and he found himself blinking constantly just to stay awake. 

You came in a few minutes later and he immediately sat up, straightening his posture and instinctively running a hand through his hair. It didn’t seem to work since you immediately furrowed your eyebrows upon the sight of him.

Armin wasn’t sure why, but he felt incredibly embarrassed. It wasn’t like he cared about what you thought, no of course not. It was just the fact that he didn’t like having his arch nemesis see him like this. It made him feel pathetic and Armin Arlert was not pathetic. 

The boy who he knew as one of Eren’s mutual friends, Connie, trailed behind you. He didn’t know him too well, only that he smoked an ungodly amount of weed. He couldn’t help but feel Connie looked like he was your puppy and you were tugging him on a leash. Never mind, he wasn’t pathetic at all. That was.

He was surprised to see you not taking your usual seat in the back, but instead placing your tote bag right behind him in the second row. He had assumed yesterday was a fluke, a moment of courage that caused you to finally speak up in class. He wondered where this newfound sense of courage was coming from. But fine, if you were playing that game, he could too.

What could possibly go wrong?

***

“AUGHHHH! I HATE HER!” Yelled Armin to Eren the second he slammed the door open to their apartment. As usual, Mikasa was also there, snuggling into his side on the couch. She seemed to have been half asleep, but was awoken when Armin stormed in.

“Woah woah woah, what's going on?” Eren asked, pausing the TV which seemed to be playing some anime show.

“Who do you think?” He huffed dramatically.  “She’s insufferable. Today, I was just minding my own business when she decided to finally participate and answer all of the questions the professor asked.”

“Okay?” said Mikasa in a sleepy voice, finally sitting up. Her bangs stuck to her forehead and she lazily brushed them aside.

“No, you don’t get it. She would raise her hand even before he finished the question just to spite me. It was totally ruining class and instead of being able to focus on taking notes like I normally do, I was playing tag.” Armin huffed, falling onto the couch close to the couple.

“Have you considered that she’s just finally comfortable enough to talk in class and is just trying to show the professor what she knows?” She sighed, crossing her arms.

“Well, I mean no, but c’mon she totally knows what she’s doing. Halfway through class, she even moved to sit in the front right next to me since she and I quote, ‘couldn’t see the board.’ I mean how dumb is that?” He asked rhetorically, grabbing a handful of chips from the couple’s shared bowl.

“Um, well I know for a fact that she has shitty vision. It’s kind of like a running joke between the three of us.” said Eren, eyeing the bowl whose contents were slowly diminishing as Armin stress ate.

“Yeah and that little wheeze she gets from her asthma. Hilarious.” Remarked Mikasa, lips growing into a smile.

Armin felt his whole stomach drop and before he knew it, he was standing up. “Oh so you have inside jokes now?” 

He looked at the two in an accusatory way. Traitors , he thought. “Fine, just take her side. It’s not like that’s everything you’ve been doing since she got here!” He ignored the small crack in his voice, warning of an even bigger tantrum. Before he could fully break down, he stormed off to his room and slammed the door shut. 

“Armin wait!” They called after him, but it was too late. He was already probably burrowed in those huge futons he loved to pile on his bed.

They shared a sigh, looking at each other.

“Were we too harsh?” Asked Eren, looking at his girlfriend.

She shook her head, “don't think so. I think he’s just having a hard time adjusting. I mean, in a matter of a few weeks his life has completely changed.”

Eren seemed to consider this for a moment, raising a hand to his chin and looking to the side.

“Yeah you’re right. I honestly think he just needs to get laid.” 

Mikasa burst out laughing, “what?”

He started to laugh too, causing them to fall against each other on the couch. He wrapped his arms around her again, speaking against the back of her head. “C’mon, don’t you agree that he’s a little too tightly wound?. In my opinion he just needs to get with her and be over with it.”

“It would be nice to see him in a relationship,” agreed Mikasa as she began to think. “It would also mean he’d stop third wheeling us so much.” she giggled. 

“Yeah that would be nice.” He grinned.

“So what does the great Eren Yeager suggest we do?” She asked, snuggling into him.

“Well, we play matchmaker again.”

***

Armin came out of his room a few hours later, looking perfectly kept. He had spent about half of that time piled under his blankets crying, but you wouldn't be able to tell now. 

It hurt him to think that Mikasa and Eren were finally replacing him. He knew he had it too good for a while now especially with how much he third wheeled, but he thought things would end differently somehow. He should have expected this; he also expected things. 

He snuck out the door without them noticing and headed straight for tennis practice. Tennis used to be therapeutic for him, a place where he could be alone in his thoughts and feelings. Now he almost dreaded going. Afterall, it was more forced time with you. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to show that he was upset. He had spent the last hour washing his face and putting enough ice on his under eyes to erase any trace of tears. He still felt shitty, but like always, he would appear perfect.

As usual, the boys team and some of the girls greeted him like he was a celebrity. He gave them all a cheerful wave before going to his corner and warming up.

He spotted you on the other side of the court warming up as well, your hair in its usual tight ponytail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of what tennis used to be. Your presence shouldn’t change anything for him, right?

Their coach, an alumni who graduated a few years ago named Rico, called them over. She coached both the boys and girls team, so it wasn’t unusual for them to run drills together. Her glasses reflected the setting sun off of them and her short hair was tied back in a low braid with a visor on top.

“Good afternoon everyone.” She moved her head to scan everyone’s faces before continuing. “I know our boys and girls teams compete separately, but I want there to be a certain level of camaraderie for all of Shiganshina tennis. I think you guys can learn a lot from each other which is why we’re gonna be playing singles matches. These are just fun little practice matches for you guys to get used to each other's styles, so don’t take it too seriously. But I want it to be boys versus girls. Go pair up.” She released everyone to go find their partners and walked back over to the side with her clipboard. 

Several girls approached Armin, despite him being the men’s top player. After several rounds of rock paper scissors, the winner ended up being a girl with short blonde hair named Hitch. She approached him excitedly and ran to get them a court. 

“Arlert, would you mind coming over here?” Asked Rico, who stood with a more than familiar ponytail. 

He tightened his grip on the racket, taking a deep breath before he approached and gave Rico a bright smile.

“Arlert could you do me a favor? I don’t know if the two of you have met, but she’s just transferred and comes from badminton. She’s a clear natural, but you’re one of our veterans and certainly a top player, so I think the two of you could help teach each other some new things. Would you mind pairing up just to help her get adjusted?” Rico gestured to you, who awkwardly waved.

“Oh we’ve met, it’s good to see you again.” smiled Armin, internally cringing at his words.  

You waved back, flashing a fake smile.

“Thanks Armin, I appreciate it.” Said Rico giving him a firm pat on the back. The two of you walked to the court Hitch had reserved, where Armin had to disappointedly tell her that she would need to find a new partner. She seemed hesitant to leave, but saw Rico staring and wished you good luck in your match. You thanked her, taking your side of the court. 

The two of you didn’t speak any further as Armin began to serve. 

You had spent the summer before your transfer waking up at 6 am every day just to practice. Even though you were just a rookie, Rico has said you had great potential and were already one of the best on the team. You wanted to be humble, but simply put: you were good.

Then there was Armin who had been playing since he was four. He was a natural, but his work ethic put others to shame. While you were waking up early to practice, he would stay up till 2 am just going back and forth on the court. 

The cocky part of Armin had expected to get you out on the serve alone, but he wasn’t surprised when you hit it back twice as hard. You began to rally, but you both knew this wasn’t going to be a friendly match. No, you were both going for the win.

All of the pent up rage from earlier was coming out, causing Armin to hit the ball with full force. It had been several minutes and the two of you were still goin back and forth, each hit harder than the last.

It seemed the other matches around you had taken Rico’s words to heart and were just rallying or playfully practicing their serves. However, they began to crowd over you two when they heard the hard hits resounding through the courts. 

Your arms burned, but you refused to let him have the point. You could see the thin sheen of sweat forming on the man's forehead, but he didn’t seem like he was giving up any time soon either. 

The whole time it was like there were two people fighting inside Armin’s head. One was thoroughly impressed by how well you were keeping up and even a little turned on by the fierce competition.

Then there was the voice that kept replaying the moment from earlier when you yelled “RAM!” and “ANALOG!” into his ear. That part was currently winning as he slammed the ball towards you.

The crowd around you had started to cheer for each side, the majority of the girl’s screaming your opponent’s name. Meanwhile, the boys were hollering for him. Rico had even come over, her normally serious, straight lips turning upwards at the sight.

You were both too out of breath to even attempt trash talking to each other, so you both settled for the natural glare that your faces felt upon looking at each other. But you were getting a bit too out of breath. 

And that’s when you remembered you had forgotten to take your inhaler before practice. Something that came essential with your exercise induced asthma.

You felt the all too familiar wheeze come and as you hit the ball back, you started to cough, throwing your racket down as you set your hands on your knees bent over. The crowd surrounding you started to stop their cheering and call out your name, but Armin took the opportunity to slam the ball back and win the point. 

“Finally!” He exclaimed to himself, expecting the crowd to erupt in cheers. He proudly set his hands on his hips taking a much needed deep breath as he watched the ball whizz past you. However, you barely paid it any attention as you watched it carelessly and then walked to your bag. 

Armin furrowed his brows, confused on what was happening. He walked over to you, finding you pulling a red inhaler out of your bag as everyone else started to surround you.

“Good game, you gave it your best effort.” He said sticking out his hand for you to shake it. You looked down at it, rolling your eyes as you placed the inhaler in your mouth.

“Sure, whatever you say Armin,” you said in the most condescending tone he’d ever heard, turning around to your worried teammates. They surrounded you and began asking if you were alright. You launched into your explanation about your asthma, waving off their concerns. Meanwhile, Armin stood off to the side with his arms crossed. 

So you let out a little cough? You were fine right?

Armin fought the urge to roll his eyes. He found one of his teammates and tapped him on the shoulder,

“Ryan, you were watching weren’t you? I won that match right?”

Ryan answered without a beat, “does it matter? Bro she was having an asthma attack.” He turned away from Armin to sit next to you.

“I’m fine guys I promise, I’ve had to do this since I was a kid. I just forgot to take my inhaler before practice which is my mistake. Thank you all for caring though.” You addressed the crowd, flashing another one of your sweet smiles.

Armin found it sickening. That little voice in the back of his mind simply saw all of this as a way for you to yet again seek attention and steal everyone away from him. It even considered that you knew you were going to lose and faked the whole incident.

He almost slapped himself when he thought of that. That was ridiculous; of course you were genuinely sick. Who were you turning him into?

He decided to leave practice early and take a walk around campus to clear his head. You clearly had enough nurses by your side, you would be fine, right? God he hoped you would be. If not he would hate himself even more than he already did.

He discreetly packed up his things and started to walk through the quad. It was that time of year when the sun started to set much earlier and his white polo left his arms exposed to the chilly air. He wrapped his arms around themselves and kept a slow pace.

The last thing he wanted right now was to see Eren and most likely Mikasa. The rational side of him knew that he wasn’t being replaced, but it felt so strange to suddenly not be their only other friend. 

Realistically, you were probably a very sweet, achieving girl. But like those old western movies his grandpa loved, this town wasn’t big enough for the both of you. And one way or another, for his own sanity, he needed you gone.

Chapter Text

“A Halloween Party?” You said with a little bit too much excitement for an over the phone conversation. 

“Yep, it'll be at a friend of Eren’s house. You know Connie Springer?” Mikasa asked from the other side of the line.

“Yeah he’s actually in the lecture I’m going into,” you said, a smile settling on your face. You had been getting to know the boy in your class for the past couple of weeks and you really liked what you found. He was sweet.

“Okay great, well it’s there and it's a costume party obviously so dress up! I’ll send you more details but we really want you to come.”

“I’ll be there.” You said definitively, hanging up the phone to go into class. 

When Mikasa had called you ten minutes ago, you hadn’t expected her to suddenly invite you to  a party. You hadn’t partied a ton at your old school, so you were excited to have already been invited to something like this.

You found your seat in the second row, which had been your new spot for the past couple of weeks, finding Connie already there.

“Well look who’s finally on time to class for once.” You remarked, pulling out your pencil bag.

“What can I say, you've been a good influence.” 

You lightly giggled at that, placing your head on your palm. “So I heard that you're having a halloween party this weekend.”

“Yeah and I heard my boy Eren invited you. It’ll be chill, you should come.”

“Oh I'll be there.” you smiled, turning your attention to your teacher.

Meanwhile, you saw Armin visibly freeze in his seat. Mikasa had told you that the three of them had been going to Connie’s party since freshman year. If he hated you before, you were shocked there wasn’t smoke coming out of his ears now. You stuck up your chim, happy to irritate him further.

The two of you had been exchanging glares since the infamous tennis match. You saw him as a callous asshole and he saw you as, well you didn’t give a damn what he thought about you.

After class was over, you left the lecture hall with Connie, asking about the dress code of the event as you walked down the hallway. You’d been to halloween parties before, but they were normally small and your close group of friends only.

To your surprise he laughed once he heard your question, the sound pinging in your ears as heat creeped up your cheeks. You didn’t wanna look like an idiot wearing something that stood out completely, but you realized just how much of a nerd it made you sound.

However, he seemed to notice your embarrassment, apologizing. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be harsh, I think it's cute. You’re just the first person to ever ask me what to wear to a halloween party.”

You chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah my bad…”

“No don’t apologize, like I said it’s cute.” You couldn’t help but feel slightly patronized at his tone, but let him continue. “Wear whatever costume you want. Most girls opt to wear little dresses and cat ears, but it's up to you. Although I wouldn't object to seeing it.” He winked, leaving to go to his next class. 

You sighed. You’d need to go to the store then. 

In the past you’d always dressed up as some reference to a show or book you liked, costumes that were cute and relatively niche. You loved seeing other girls' costumes, but you personally favored something that only someone who knew you well could guess at. Last year, you went as Jude Duarte, sticking your hair into little horns.

You knew that probably wasn’t what Connie was looking for and you kept that in mind as you browsed the aisles. You were gonna give up and grab the next thing you saw as everything started to blend together, until you found the perfect costume. Snatching the white dress and tossing it into your cart, you left the store excited to show off your costume. 

The party started at 11, but Mikasa told you to meet her at Connie’s at 10 to essentially pregame and just hang out. The door was open, so you were able to walk right in. 

Connie’s apartment was a palace in comparison to the tiny one you shared with your two roommates. You’d always perceived Connie to just be a normal student like you, but from what you could tell he came from serious money. 

The layout was open and from what you could tell there were two bedrooms and two baths. He lived alone in the penthouse, a luxury which you only dreamed of. The design of the apartment was modern and alongside the large glass windows there was a large balcony with a table and some chairs.

You met Mikasa in the kitchen, who was busy preparing some food and drinks. You walked up to her, but her attention was distracted on setting up a cute little charcuterie platter on the island.

“Hey,” you called out, causing her to finally snap her head up.

“Y/n!” She ran over to you and gave you a tight hug, her strong arms nearly strangling you. “You look amazing,” she said, looking up and down at your costume.

“Thank you, you look stunning.” You said, gesturing to her outfit. She had on a tight black dress and her usual dark makeup was accentuated by the pale foundations he had on.

It was only when Eren sidled up next to her in a yellow soccer jersey, hugging her from behind that you realized what they were.

“Ohh, are you the couple from Hotel Transylvania?” you asked, making the connection. Mikasa smiled revealing white fangs, “Yep.”

“Awwwww,” you cooed, not noticing Connie joining you.

He slung an arm around your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly.

“Connie, I didn’t see you there, hey!” You looked at his costume, bursting out in laughter at the sight of the bald cap covering his buzzed head.

“Are you pitbull?” Connie nodded excitingly,

“How’d you guess?” He joked, pulling up his sunglasses to rest on his head. Sure enough, he was also wearing a white suit.

“And you are… dressing for a toga party?” Connie asked eyeing the short white dress draped over your shoulder,

“Um…” 

“You’re Artemis, goddess of the hunt.” said an all too familiar voice joining the conversation. Armin gestured to the bow in your hands and you nodded.

“I had a huge percy jackson phase in Middle School,” he said bashfully when everyone looked at him in question.

“Me too,” you said, not surprised the two of you shared that connection. Almost every smart kid at your school was obsessed with the books, yourself included.

“Ohhh are those movies with that lady gaga scene?” Asked Connie, arm still on your shoulder. You all laughed at that.

“Sort of, but those are very inaccurate.”

“Yeah, any Percy Jackson fan detests those movies,”  says Armin, causing you to finally look at his own costume.

“So you decided to go as Harry Potter ‘Min? “ asked Eren, looking at the boy's red and gold striped tie and sweater vest.

“Actually I think he’s Remus Lupin,” you commented pointing to the scar on his cheek lazily drawn with marker.

“Who’s that?” Connie asks, while Armin stifles a laugh. “Um, never mind,” you smiled, not feeling like explaining it. You and Armin share a look, which you quickly break, disgusted with yourself for even talking to the boy.

You leave the kitchen, followed by Connie. You all decide to put on a horror movie while you wait for the other guests to show up. By the time it’s 11;30, about fifty people are comfortable in the apartment. You recognize a few of them, mostly from them also being friends with Mikasa and Eren. A few unknown faces grace the area and you force yourself to introduce yourself, despite your shyness.

You're in the middle of a conversation with a girl named Mina and a blonde boy named Thomas, when Connie, who has shed the bald cap and sunglasses, approaches you.

“Hey guys, do you mind if I borrow y/n for a sec?” he said, gesturing to you. They nod and you stand up from the couch to join him.

“Hey Connie, what’s up?” you asked, as he led you through the apartment. As you get closer to him you smell the alcohol on his breath and realize he’s pretty drunk. Even his cheeks are flushed with a slight tinge of red. You yourself were entirely sober, too nervous about socializing to even consider embarrassing yourself with one too many drinks.

“Nothing, I just haven’t seen you at all tonight.” He guides you to the balcony and opens the door, letting a cool breeze hit you, dissipating the heat in your cheeks.

You go to lean your arms on the stone, taking a deep breath. The moon shines brightly above you, illuminating the balcony and showing a few plants, turning slightly brown due to neglect.

“You know you look really hot tonight,” says Connie from behind you, coming up to lean next to you on the railing.

“Thanks,” you say, not sure how to respond. You weren’t used to someone being so forward with you. In high school, you didn’t think guys paid any attention to you. That changed when you got to college and were regularly asked out, but you never forgot what it felt like to be so invisible. You felt your cheeks heat up and you stare at the railing, pretending to find the chipped black paint interesting. 

Your attention was jerked up by the feeling of his hand on your waist and you swallowed hard. The next thing you knew he was only inches apart and his breath, reeking of alcohol, stung your face. His other hand snaked up to the back of your neck and he pulled you toward him to place his lips on yours. You felt your whole body freeze as if someone had dumped one of the coolers down your back. 

You didn’t understand the sudden nervousness and unease you felt around him. I mean this was Connie, the guy who’d been your closest friend in class, the one who made you laugh so hard you almost got in trouble.

But maybe that was just it; he was your friend. You never asked to be seen this way by him, as a hot girl and not just a friend. Because, as the new girl, that’s really all you wanted. And now, things would be awkward between the two of you because he had gotten the wrong idea. 

You jerked backwards, gently placing a hand on his chest to push him off. 

His eyes widened in alarm and he nearly tripped stepping backwards as he sought to put as much space between you and him that the balcony would allow. “I-is something wrong?” He asked.

You brought a hand up to your face, running it down your mouth and shaking your head. “I’m so sorry I don’t-” you paused trying to come up with something less harsh than simply telling him you didn’t want him to kiss you. And yet, maybe honesty was the best policy. 

“I can’t do this.” you finally say, stealing a glance at the reflective glass behind him. “I’m sorry Connie, you’ve been so kind to me, but I think I just see you as a friend…”

You watched him flush in embarrassment and yet his eyes softened. You could see the mortification in his eyes, but he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, I guess I got the wrong idea…” He muttered, already starting to walk away. 

“Connie wait-” you outstretched a hand, but he was already gone through the doors. You considered chasing after him, but figured he needed some time alone. He had gotten rejected at his own party after all. You knew you didn’t do anything wrong, but it didn’t help the guilt that settled in your stomach. And not for the first time that night, you wished you felt differently. 

Now, you were stuck at the house of a guy you had just rejected feeling stupid and out of place. Your arms draped back onto the railing helplessly and you sighed folding inward so that your head rested on your forearms. You couldn’t help the tears that started to pool in your eyes. 

You trusted Connie not to make this something it wasn’t and yet, you didn't know the guy that well. You were friends just in class and you had little to say about his character outside of those four walls. For all you knew, he would go telling all his friends how you had led him on or that you broke his heart at his own party.

You had only been here for two months and already your reputation was at stake. The last thing you wanted was for him to tell your friends and ruin what you had with them. Fear filled your heart at the unfortunate situation and you felt hot tears come down and ruin your makeup. After all that work in making new friends and wanting a fresh start, it was all undone just like that. 

You wanted nothing more than to go home and have Historia and Ymir comfort you, but no matter what, to get to your car, you had to walk back through the party. With your tear stained face, it was probably best for you to stay out here until you regained your composure. You sighed, letting the tears fall and stain the concrete like little raindrops. 

“y/n?” Your hunched back stiffened at the voice and your eyes startled open. Was that who you thought it was ? Your eyes shifted to all too familiar black oxfords and you hurriedly wiped at your eyes, sitting up perfectly straight. 

“Yes?” You said, hating the way your voice involuntarily shook. Armin’s eyes widened as he took in your appearance. His look made your eyes swell with tears out of embarrassment and he seemed to notice, settling into a polite expression. He let out an awkward cough, “Mikasa and Eren were looking for you.” 

“Oh, okay.” You choked out, smoothing down your white dress. “Can you tell them to give me a few minutes?” He swallowed air and with nothing for his hands to do, adjusts his vest. He’s clearly uncomfortable and you can tell he would give anything to just run back inside.

“Yeah yeah, totally.” He rocks back on his heels and you wouldn’t be surprised if he started whistling. “I-I’ll go let them know.” He starts for the door and you're thankful for his disappearance when he suddenly stops, pivoting to face you again. 

“Are you okay?” He says suddenly, putting his hands in his pockets. You want to scoff and tell him to fuck off, but the sincereness in his voice catches you off guard. You can tell it’s painful for him to stay and ask and it almost warms your heart. 

“I will be,” you reply after a few seconds of silence linger in the air. And it’s true, you’ll eventually figure this out. You always do.

“What happened?” He asked, stepping closer to you on the balcony. There’s actual curiosity in his voice and it seems like he’s been dying to ask the question. You wonder if he’ll revel in your mortification, but you speak anyway. 

“Connie tried to kiss me and I pushed him away. I told him I didn’t feel that way and he ran off. “

Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion, “then why are you crying? You did nothing wrong.”

You lean back on the railing as you explain yourself. “I know, I just-I’m new you know? My reputation matters more than anything right now and I don't know, I guess I’m scared he’ll tell people I led him on or something-” You ramble but he interrupts you.

“Well that’s dumb.”

You shoot him a glare, but let him speak. “From what I can tell about the two of you in class, you're just friends. He didn’t even invite you himself, Eren did.” He pauses, looking to the side and biting his cheek as if the memory still stings him before continuing. “I mean, that’s the first time he’s tried to kiss you, right?

You nod. “So there you are. Besides, Connie wouldn’t do that. He may be kind of thick in the skull, but he’s a good guy. And if he does, I’ll tell them that's not true.”

You’re shocked by the sincereness of his voice and your eyes flick to his. “You would do that?”

He shrugs, “I mean why not? It’s the truth.” He sighs and walks a little closer now. “Look, I know we didn’t get off on the right start, but I won't let him make up lies about you. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy, it’s just not moral.”

You can’t stop your lips from quirking into a small smile as you tease, “is that what I am now? Your worst enemy?” 

His eyes flash with panic, “no I-

“I’m just kidding. I know we don’t exactly get along and I’m okay with that because you're not a bad guy. I appreciate your help Armin.” You say, walking up to him and pressing a soft peck on his cheek. With your tears now dry and your sanity feeling restored, you feel safe enough to walk back into the party. Armin’s left on the balcony as you go find Mikasa and Eren.

As much as you went into today detesting him, perhaps Armin Arlert isn’t that bad.

Chapter Text

Maybe it was the usual post party exhaustion hitting him, or maybe he felt just a little bad for you. Armin could’t exactly tell as he laid on the couch in their apartment the day after Halloween.

Armin had stayed on the balcony after you had let him, soaking up the cool air and moonlight. He really wasn't the party type and it was oddly peaceful like this. Once he finally came back inside, you had apparently left and Eren was at the point in his drinking that he was hugging everyone. Once he saw Mikasa, he tried to ask her out not realizing they were already together. Boy was he thrilled to find out they’d been together for two years.

Armin rarely got inebriated, instead taking joy in how stupid his friends could act.

Connie was nowhere to be found and in a way he was grateful. He was almost sure he wouldn’t say anything, but he would fulfill his promise to you and make sure nothing happened. Still, the later he had to confront idiot and chronic goofball Constance Springer, the better.

There were small subtleties throughout the night pointing to you being a little too similar to him. Like the costume you had worn and instantly recognizing the obscure character he had dressed up as. Not to mention, the obsession with your reputation and when it was at stake.

At the end of the day, he realized he had forgotten you were just a girl. Not some insane leech trying to steal his life, but rather a transfer who just wanted to fit in. It made you slightly more tolerable in his eyes, but he still wouldn’t admit to thinking you were bearable, especially not to Mikasa and Eren.

At the end of the night, his best friends had desperately tried to send him off with one of the girls at the party. There was a cold-faced blond girl named Annie who they claimed was “just his type,” practically flung into his arms. That was when he finally left, profusely apologizing to her and simultaneously glaring at the two. He knew they were just trying to help and maybe a girl would do some good for him, but he had always hated this.

Back in middle school Mikasa and Eren saw it as their duty to play cupid for Armin. They knew that deep down he was a hopeless romantic and as his best friend, they knew any girl would be lucky to have him. It wasn’t unusual for them to pick a cute girl every year and devout all of their resources to putting them together. These included staging moments where they were the only two in the room or even faking love letters to get Armin’s attention.

These quests never worked out since Armin always saw through it and usually snuffed them out. They would all have a laugh about it and then go back to their lives until the next year when they would try the exact same thing..

They eventually stopped doing this when they got to high school mostly because of two reasons. One, the girls would usually realize it and get so embarrassed that they would completely avoid Armin altogether. Two, one day after yet another failed attempt to get Armin a date to the school dance, Armin begged them to stop.

He never told them, but it made him feel pathetic. It made him feel like no one would ever like him on their own. A few months later when these same girls who he’d been led to believe liked him asked him to set them up with Eren, it confirmed what he thought to be true: that he was unloveable.

Even though once he got to college he started to grow into his looks and become quite the charmer, he still found it hard to believe someone genuinely liked him.

Even though Mikasa and Eren reassured him that they only helped the process along, Armin strongly believed that these girls never liked him in the first place. He merely saw it as a way for the girls to either get Eren's attention instead or some help with their homework. Even now as the matchmaking had greatly lessened, it still bothered him. Thank god they had stopped trying to set him up with you.

He couldn't help but ponder the possibilities as he sunk further into the couch. You were a pretty girl, anyone with eyes could see that, especially last night, but dating you? Out of the question. Hell no.

Was there anything wrong with you? Of course not. You were honestly his type to a tee, but you were, well, you. The unbearable y/n who made him want to suffocate you with a pillow. He had pitied you last night, that’s all. And his undeniable chivalry was called into question at the sight of a damsel in distress, yes that was it. He sat on the couch trying to convince himself until his daily reminder for another one of his activities went off.

He sat up and got changed into a maroon coloured sweatshirt and loose fitting corduroy pants, before heading out. Today was another of his Model UN meetings. The club was one he’d joined out of pure interest. It had nothing to do with his concentration and yet, he had always been interested in global affairs, past and present. It gave him a good opportunity to practice debate and public speaking and if he won Secretary General as he planned to run his Senior year, it would look great for grad school.

Depending on the day, he either walked or drove to campus. He was very environmentally conscious, down to the red prius he drove. Not only was the car the cheapest one he could afford, but also electric. Given the gray cast skies, he decided to drive in case he got caught in a storm.

Two rights, a left and then another right and he was parked in the International Studies building that housed the classroom they conducted meetings in. It was a simple, small room that housed just enough chairs for the entire club to comfortably fit.

He walked through the threshold and placed his bag onto his desk, instantly greeted by everyone. They loved him in Model UN. Every time he walked in the room, he was greeted and sometimes even hugged. There was always a sudden rush of serotonin on MUN Mondays.

Once everyone shuffled in, the current Secretary General, a senior international studies major named Moblit, banged his gavel to start the meeting. Moblit began to set the agenda from planning the upcoming high school conference to their next competition in Stohess. Since Armin was on the travel team, he would get to take the all expenses paid trip next weekend. He was excited and more than confident he would place after winning Best Delegate in the last two local conferences.

Moblit pulled up the agenda as well as some details about the conference, but paused smiling brightly. “But before we get into today’s meeting, I would like to take a moment to introduce our newest member.”

Armin perked up, looking around for anyone he didn’t recognize. “She was her old school’s head delegate and won Best Delegate at the national conference last March where she represented Hizuru in the General Assembly. She plans to join the travel team and is already signed up to represent Marley in the Historic Council. Everyone please give a warm welcome, to y/n!”

Armon feel this heart drop and he grabbed the sides of the desk he sat at to stabilize himself. You-you were like a parasite! Invading everything he did with your stupid, high achieving presence. He felt himself fuming and his palms turned sweaty. He forced himself to raise his head and see you confidently strut to the front of the room and wave hi to everyone. The room erupted in cheers and Armin slumped further into his seat not believing his eyes.

Your eyes scanned the room and he saw them widen when the two of you locked eyes. You immediately brushed over him, continuing your assessment of the room. Anger filled him and any pitying from earlier today was gone. If you were going to pretend he wasn’t there, then he could play the exact same game too.

The blonde raised a hand as the room continued to welcome you, a few people even going up to hug you. Your conservation was interrupted as he spoke, everyone’s attention going back to home. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he began, “but I fear my shift at the school where I teach kids to code starts in less than a hour and I would hate to miss any details about the conference.” A few people nodded, impressed by his extracurricular activity.

Moblit blinked a few times, straightening out. “Oh right, I almost forgot you had that today. My dearest apologies Armin, we can talk to y/n after.” He motioned to a chair near the front and you took it. He didn’t miss the roll of your eyes as you sat down.

Moblit pressed a key on his computer and the slide switched to the details of the conference. “The conference will take place in Stohess at Rose University. Next Friday at 5:00 am you will all meet here and board the bus to take you there. It’s about a five hour drive so bring headphones and sleep if you can. Then at 12 you’ll go to the first afternoon session from 12-4. Afterwards we’ll get dinner as a team, you’ll attend the delegate dance, and then sleep in the hotel we booked. Except for y/n, who I’ll speak to after, everyone should know their roommates by now, but let me know if you don’t.” He looked around the room and then continued, pressing another key and changing the slide to a list.

“Here are all of your country assignments.” Armin scanned the document for Advanced Historical Council: The Great Titan War. He nearly fell over in his chair when he saw his: Eldia. Of course you were Marley and he was Eldia, how fitting. And since the conflict directly involved the two of you, you were only observers and couldn’t vote. There were a few smaller roles and representatives like King Fritz, each of the nine titans, and so on, but if he wanted to do anything he would have to convince them to help.

He couldn’t help but sigh, looking over at you. He looked down to see your fists tightly clenched by your side. At least he wasn't overreacting.

Moblit finished the meeting by quickly going over the high school conference and Armin just about bolted out of there. He really didn’t have volunteering until another hour, but he needed to keep up the act.

In the time between, he decided to go on a quick run, trying to get out his anger before he accidentally crushed a little kid’s computer.

How could this happen? Not only did you take over tennis and his friend group, but this! Model UN was his thing! Sure anyone could be athletic or smart, but they could rarely be both. Only he ever thought he could be both!

And it wasn’t like you just did it for fun. Nobody won for fun. The national conference last year was intense. You weren't in the same council, but even Armin himself only got Honorable Mention. Not only were you good at Model UN, you were amazing and it made him fume.

Maybe you didn’t need Connie to ruin your reputation, maybe Armin could do it himself. It wouldn’t be that hard; he was sure he could make up something up in less than a second. Maybe you were a serial cheater, or had ruined your friend group at your old school and that's why you moved. Maybe you had kissed Eren and ruined his two year relationship with Mikasa or had led Connie on because you liked the attention.

He mentally slapped himself at the thought. That was a whole other level of evil. Even angry him wouldn't do that. Sure you were annoying, but he didn’t want to ruin your life. Still, maybe that wasn't even possible. Maybe he would get the boot if he pulled something like that.

He finally halted to a slow walk, heading to his car and changing his sweaty sweatshirt into a loose long sleeve with the school’s logo on it. He let his breathing calm and drank plenty of water on his way to the elementary school.

Maria Elementary was about a thirty minute drive from the campus. It was one of the poorest schools in the district and from the outside, looked something like a prison. Armin had gotten his start here Freshman year when an old friend of his from high school asked for his help one day. Ever since then, he came every Monday and Wednesday to help out.

Computer science was an ever growing field and one that was becoming increasingly more lucrative. Armin had loved to code ever since he was a kid and he got lucky it became such a good career choice. He knew how hard some of these kids had it and if they were able to study the concentration and make a good life for themselves then he would make a difference in this harsh world.

He parked his prius and walked into the building, checking into the front desk and heading to the computer lab. He had been here so many times he could take the path with his eyes closed: a left, a right, another left and then one last right.

Because of the lack of funding, the lab was awfully small and only had five real stations for the kids to take turns at. Fortunately for the internet, there were plenty of programs download on it to make it worth it.

The time in which he came was the weird, limbo-like space between when school ended and the doors closed for the night. Many kids’ parents couldn't pick them up right away so instead of making them sit in an empty school, they could learn valuable coding language while coding fun things like games and even robots. There were ten kids in total, all very close with Armin and seeing him as their big brother.

They instantly welcomed him and he took his place as teacher in the front of the room. Today they would be using a website to make their own games. He got them set up and created all of their accounts, sitting at the front of the class while they got started.

He opened his laptop and began to mindlessly scroll through the emails he’d received. He groaned when he saw a new one from Moblit sending them their country assignments in case someone couldn’t make it to the meeting.

He stared at Eldia and Marley, letting out a pathetic laugh that was more of a huff. Falco, a blonde boy sitting at the station in the front seemed to notice his frustration and momentarily let Gabi have his computer while he walked up to Armin.

“Are you alright mister?” He asked and Armin closed his laptop, pretending nothing was wrong.

“Oh it’s nothing,” he replied and stood up. He walked over to the cords on the side of the room and pretended to untangle them and make himself look busy. Of course Falco followed him. “Are you sure? It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Armin sighed and faced the boy, annoyed with his persistence. “Yes, it’s just a little rivalry I’m having to deal with.”
“And?” Armin quirked an eyebrow realizing he wouldn't be left alone and he might as well tell the whole story.

“Well there’s this girl,” he began.
“Is she pretty?” Falco interrupted. Armin paused and thought it over. You were objectively pretty and had that nice hair and cute smile… but that wasn’t the point! “Well, yes but-”

“Can you show me a picture?” Armin blinked and bit his lip in frustration pulling out his phone. He didn’t follow you himself, but he knew Mikasa and Eren did. He pulled out the latest picture you had posted, a simple one in front of the college with the caption: new beginnings. It was full of comments from people from your old school wishing you goodbye.

“Wow…” Falco breathed, eyes lighting up at the picture. “And what’s your problem again?” He cocked his blonde head. This wasn’t fair, it’s because kids’ brains aren't fully developed, Armin concluded.

“Well,” he said, trying not to let the frustration seep into his voice, “you know how you and Gabi are always fighting over the same things? Like your computer,” he pointed to the monitor where Gabi sat, lip bit in focus as she furiously smashed buttons to test her game.

Falco nodded, wordlessly letting Armin continue. “That’s how me and this girl are. Except all the things that she thinks are hers, were mine first!” He exclaimed with a little too much anger.

“Aren’t you like… thirty?” Falco blinked and Armin blanched, feeling suddenly embarrassed by the seemingly childish rant. “Well-I just turned twenty but…nevermind.” he shook his head, unable to think about how much aura he had just lost. “The point is, is that I’m really good at these computer games. I was the best until she got here and now… she’s ruined everything.”

“But Gabi hasn’t…” Falco thought aloud. “She hasn’t ruined anything. Sure I think it’s annoying when she upstages me, but it makes me want to be better. And well,” the boy’s ears started to turn red as he bashfully whispered, “I like her.”

The boy seemed so embarrassed by this prospect that he ran back to his computer, shoving Gabi out of the chair which led into a mini argument between the two. Armin watched, feeling a strange sort of emotion he couldn’t quite get his finger on. He hated the fact that Falco had provided him with more wisdom than his own matured brain could spout, but maybe it was that simple. Maybe she could make him better.

But that was nonsense, he immediately told himself. He didn’t need to be better. He was Armin Arlert, the smartest person in every room. And unlike Falco, he wasn’t blinded by his feelings for his rival. He hardly felt anything at all for her, except occasional pity. That was what that weird tugging in his heart was… obviously.

Chapter Text

At exactly 4:45 am, you pulled your beat up camry into the parking lot of the International Studies building where Moblit had instructed everyone to meet for the buses. Sure he told the group to come at 5, but to you, at fifteen minutes early, you were practically late.

There was only one other car in the lot, a shitty looking prius that sat ominously on the other side of the lot. You paid it no mind as you sat and drank the coffee you had made back at your apartment and looked out at the view. The sun was still more than an hour away from rising, but the dark sky was still beautiful. There was something so peaceful about being awake when the rest of the world was still asleep.
After fifteen minutes had passed, the other cars and two large busses started to crowd the lot. You opened the door with some struggle, balancing your cup of coffee with your duffle bag. At the same time, you heard another door shutting and saw that of course, Armin was the other car in the lot.

You hadn’t interacted with him since the night of Connie’s halloween party, besides seeing each other in class and at the Model UN meeting, and you weren’t really sure how to act. You were embarrassed after your arch nemesis (okay that was dramatic, but he did annoy you) had comforted you after Connie made a move. It crossed a weird line between you two that you didn’t at all like.

I mean he was Armin, this untouchable, rival figure who was just that: a figure. He didn’t exist in your plane in the same way that you never saw him in any other light than as a competitor. You obviously knew that he was a real human being with his own thoughts and feelings, but it was so much easier to see him as a roadblock, a final boss in a video game. And here he was, looking annoyingly awake for this early in the morning.

You couldn’t bring yourself to try to match his enthusiasm as he greeted Moblit nor try to interact with Armin. It felt too weird now and besides, you were sure he considered himself to be beyond small talk. Instead, you made idle chit chat with Bertolt, a tall, lanky boy you knew to be a Polisci major.

Around you, the group started to form into a line to board the bus, Moblit at the front with a clipboard checking people off. Once Moblit marked your name with a smile, you boarded the bus and just ended up sitting next to Bertolt for simplicity’s sake. He was nice after all, albeit a little quiet.

The bus ride was peaceful and you allowed yourself to get the sleep you had so cruelly missed last night. You had tried to go to sleep at a decent time, but the rather promiscuous sounds of your roommates having a lot more fun than you were, kept you up. Eventually, you just put on headphones and watched your favorite show on the highest volume until your eyelids eventually fell like anvils.

You leaned your head against the cool glass and drifted asleep, waking up a few times over the course of the trip due to some bad speed bumps or particularly loud laughter coming from behind you. At one point, you had been jolted by what sounded more like a shriek than a laugh and looked behind you to the culprit.

A harsh looking blonde girl who was prettier than you would have liked had let out the sound and you paused, staring between the gap of your two seats when you saw Armin was the cause. He had a bright smile on his face as he interacted with the girl and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been that funny.

Unable to fall back asleep, you found your eyes wandering to Bertolt who was reading a book. Your eyes drifted to the cover, the annoying part of you curious as to what he had his eyes so vigorously scanning. You smiled when you recognized the front cover, the celestial eyes staring back at you.

“The Great Gatsby?” You couldn’t help but chime in a pleased tone. The dark haired boy looked up with a little bit of surprise, his cheeks turning pink for some reason. He paused for a second before nodding. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “People hate on it because they read it once in highschool and are forced to dissect all of the symbolism, but it’s really a good book.”

Bertolt nods, “I couldn’t agree more. I like the message on staying in the past, on falling in love with the ideas of things. The book’s aesthetic is lovely too,” he says with a small chuckle and you think it's precious.

You smile back and continue to chat with him for the rest of the bus ride. You could have swore the two behind you got even more annoying in response, but perhaps you were just imagining it.

Five hours later, the bus slowed to a stop in front of a large hotel. It was the type that always hosted these kinds of things, with large ballrooms and conference centers. You could already see hundreds of other college kids rolling their suitcases to the front doors.

Once Moblit stood up, you stretched out your limbs, grabbed your stuff, and followed. Once everyone was off the bus, Moblit lead the way inside.

It was almost overwhelming the amount of energy in the lobby. Unlike your group, most schools were already dressed in their business casual attire. For some that meant a simple button down or polo, while others were in crisp black suits you were sure cost more than your entire closet. Some were lazily spread out on the lobby couches half asleep, while others were rigorously reciting their opening statements.

You were more than confident in your ability to public speak and debate, but there was always a tickle of nervousness before any conference. You tried not to let it show though as you saw Armin watching you in the corner of your eye. He was just waiting for you to fail.

You tried to divert your attention back to Bertolt, who, in the nicest way possible, looked like he was going to shit his pants. “You okay?” You asked softly. He still jumped slightly at the sound of your voice.

He shook his head, effectively making the beads of sweat on his forehead glisten in the light. “Yeah yeah totally.” You gave a nod of acknowledgement along with an understanding smile. “I get it; these things are nerve wracking.”

The tall man nodded, “something like that.” He let out a nervous chuckle. You were about to continue comforting him, but Moblit was starting to come back from the front desk. Even the secretary general looked a bit nervous and she noticed his eyes flicking to her and then back to the crowd.

He started to go around the group and hand out room keys. From what she could tell, it was two people in a room. Groups started to leave and step in the giant line for the elevator. As more and more people started to leave, Moblit came up to you with an unreadable expression.

“So there’s a slight problem…” He said with a nervous laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly teetered on his heels. “What?” You asked in the cheeriest voice you could muster. Deep down you were nervous. Was there something wrong with paperwork? Could you not compete? You felt your palms began to sweat.

“So the person in charge of all the financials coordinated most of the stuff back in May with all of the veteran members. Since a lot of people dropped at the last minute, we just figured we could slide you in. Of course we had to sign up for the conference itself so you’re all good on that front, but it turns out that all the members that dropped were boys…

“And?” you asked, still not quite getting where this was going.

“And there’s no more room in the girl’s rooms, so the only space we have in the hotel is with a boy. It’s only one and I promise you, he’s a complete gentleman-”
“I’m sorry what are you saying?” You couldn’t help but interrupt. Moblit let out a heavy sigh. “You’re gonna have to room with a guy. If it makes you uncomfortable I completely understand wanting to find another hotel, but most of them in the area are booked for the conference. There’s two beds of course, but it is rather unfortunate. I’m really sorry.”

You swallowed hard. This was annoying of course, but you were an adult. You could be mature about this. In fact, you had to be, Moblit needed to like you I mean, what if you ran for a position at the end of the year? You ran a hair through your hair and put on your best fake smile, adding a light laugh to diffuse the situation, “It’s okay. I get it, shit happens.”

The brunette cracked a smile as the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissolve. “Great. Thank you so much, I really appreciate you.” He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a white keycard. “It’s room 139. Your roommate is already up there. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, just let me know and we’ll figure something out.” With that, he left to go distribute the rest of the cards.

You took the white plastic and headed up the elevator. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. If this was the worst thing to happen this whole weekend, then-

“What the fuck are you doing here!” Shouted an all too familiar voice the second you opened the door. There, in all his shirtless (and unfortunately, pantsless) glory, was Armin, presumably in the middle of changing into his business clothes. Instinctively, you turned your face back to the hallway and screwed your eyes shut. “Oh my god!” You shrieked.

“Get out of my room!” he shouted along with the sound of a belt hurriedly being fastened. You were about to scurry away when your eyes went back to the door number. In black numbers, as clear as day, was sure enough, 139.

You turned back around, still keeping your eyes shut. “This is my room? 139!” You shouted in confusion. “No it’s not!” You heard him protest. “Yes it is!”

You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and saw Armin starting to button his shirt. Wow he was really toned which was surprising considering…never mind! What was he doing in YOUR room?

He stared at you dumbfounded. “Then how did my card get me in here?”
“How did mine?” You asked in response. As if to claim your territory even further you set your duffle on the small black coffee table in the room.

Armin just rolled his eyes. “You probably just got the wrong card. Moblit said my roommate would be up in a few minutes. Let’s just wait until he gets here.”

You blinked, processing his words. There was no way… your stomach started to churn.

“You’re not by yourself?” You asked. The blonde shook his head. “No one is,” he replied in a rather stuck up tone. You rolled your eyes. “Moblit told me I had to room with a guy. You don’t think…”

At the same time you both shook your heads and let out nervous laughter. “There’s no way,” he breathed. However, he started to nervously pace the small space. “Yeah, exactly.” You agreed, fidgeting with your rings.

“I’m gonna go call Moblit.” He announced, pulling his phone out. You rolled your eyes, “it’s the only room left. The girls' rooms are full.”

“Then he can come and room with you himself,” he held the phone up to his ear as it started ringing. “Yes? Wait I’m sorry that’s not- I mean it’s not a major problem but…” You heard him argue on the phone. Everytime his voice veered on the edge of being peeved, it would correct itself. Eventually he hung up the phone and wordlessly walked over to the bed nearest the door.

“What’d he say?” You asked, but Armin didn’t answer. Instead he flopped onto the bed and immediately started screaming into the pillow. It lasted for an uncomfortably long amount of time and you just sort of… stood there. Finally, he pulled back with his face red and neat hair messy.

“I’m fine,” he announced, straightening out his button down.
“Really? Cause it looks like you just snapped. And I don’t really wanna wake up and see one of those pillows smothering me.” You crossed your arms.

“What. choice. do. we. have?” He gritted out his teeth. “Be thankful there’s two beds.”
“You’re awfully compliant with this for someone who was minutes away from telling Moblit to put on a wig and shove me in his room. Someone wants the Secretary General’s favor.” You grinned.

“As if you’re not the same,” he scoffed. “You’re the one that agreed to room with a boy first.”
“Well excuse me for thinking it’d be someone who actually likes me.”
“Oh you mean like Bertolt?” He challenged. “He sure would have jumped at the opportunity.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughed, “You love playing innocent don’t you? As if you don’t enjoy appealing to and being all nice to all of these guys and them being shocked when they actually have interest in you.”

“Pardon?” You snap.
“You have to be beloved,” He continues, “even if you couldn’t care less about the people that care about you. It’s like you did with Connie and then you tried to play the victim. You're only a few weeks in and everyone’s already starting to hate you.”

Your mouth opened and then closed again. You hadn’t been expecting that. Shame on him for taking something you were sensitive about and bringing it up like this. If he was going to play that game, so would you.

“Oh yeah? And why is it you care so much? Are you jealous that you’re not receiving the same attention?” You take a step closer. “That I’m not fawning all over you like I apparently am to everyone else? Well, let me tell you why. Because you are unlikeable. You are detestable. And your fake persona is suffocating when I know the real you. Everything that anyone enjoys about you, is artificial.”

And the pain that he caused in you by bringing up an insecurity, you can see it hit him. His bright eyes flicker a bit and his fists unclench, in painful relief. And it’s not as satisfying as you thought it’d be. But you still try to savor it. Because you hate him.

Before you can see him cry or maybe scream into the pillow again, you grab your stuff and walk to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you quickly. Under unfortunate timing, you had to be down in ten minutes. It’s hard to get your blouse and slacks on due to the rage shaking your fingers, but you manage and try to ignore the glassiness of your eyes as you fix your makeup. When you come out, Armin is already gone.

You don’t see him during the opening ceremony nor when you separate into your council. Eventually you find your placard in the large classroom and get all your things out, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t let this throw you off. If anything, it would make you better.

The council chair started to set everything up and began to take roll call. You’re waiting for his voice, and when you hear it you snap your head.

“The Nation of Eldia is present,” he says from two rows behind, already staring daggers at you. You stare right back and you can tell from his scornful gaze, he wants his revenge.

Well good thing, so do you.

Let the games begin.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, how is that relevant?” You demanded as Armin once again brought up the fact that you had brought up the ethicality of employing Titan serums as weapons in your opening speech. You were clearly a bit nervous and you seemed to have more time than you thought and started to ramble. He was glad he caught it considering you were Marley. Talk about pot meet kettle. 

“It’s relevant because your nation has used the serum to control Eldians within the walls for centuries! Not to mention, your cruel mistreatment of all Eldians! Plus that has nothing to do with today’s council’s topic. Should I refer you next door to the Liberio council?” He looked around the room for support and a few of his allies nodded. You seemed to ignore his last comment.

“And your nation hasn’t? We needed to keep you contained on the island; it was for our safety!”

“And what of ours? What of our desire for freedom . We refuse to live trapped under your terms and conditions like cattle!” He slammed his hands down on the desk separating you for emphasis. It also made him feel a little cool, although it probably didn’t look like it. The sound didn’t resound throughout the room as much as he had hoped. It was probably a really thick desk…

Around them, for what seemed like the millionth time, the rest of the council sighed. Your little dispute had annoyed them until they found out you attended the same school and now they were just confused. Petty rivalries between different schools were common, especially in such a small region, but coming from the same school was unheard of. There should be a sense of camaraderie; not whatever this was. 

Sure you happened to be rival nations, but that was the thing with Model UN. At the end of the day, your nation hardly mattered. What mattered was the delegate behind it, and how talented they were, how much of a desire they had to fight. And with you two, that desire was overflowing. 

“That’s time! Please return to your seats,” called out the chair, a short red haired girl, who looked exhausted. Armin took a seat and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep sigh that resounded throughout the room. “The chair would like to remind the committee that this is still the first session and topic, meaning that there is still plenty of time to get to the actual dispute between Marley and Eldia. The chair would look favorably upon the other nations speaking their opinion on the topic of alliances against Eldia.”

He felt the whole room’s eyes go to you two and frankly, he did feel a little embarrassed. He wasn’t this type of person. Normally everyone in his council loved him, asking for his number and waving hello when they saw him again later. You were doing this to him. He saw your head snap back to him, an angry look forming a wrinkle between your eyebrows and his worries dissolved. He straightened his tie, a blue that matched his eyes, and sat back in his chair, peering down smugly. 

If he was being honest, he was so into this. He loved this actually, arguing with you in your pretty little outfit while you were downright outraged. After what you had said earlier, he was getting his revenge. Even if it meant embarrassing you in front of the whole council.

Someone called out a motion to resume the speaker’s list and he reopened his notebook, starting to take notes on the speeches. Frankly, he had no interest in them and just wanted to get back to arguing, but he didn’t want to look even worse for not caring. The chair was watching everything after all. 

Finally, there was a break in the speaker’s list and you raised your hand. “Motion for a twenty minute unmoderated discussion for the purpose of discussing alliances?” You announced, making sure to project your voice to the large room.

He saw a few people wince at your tone of voice and he had an idea. “Point of personal privilege, could Marley speak quieter? Her voice is bothering me.” He grinned when you snapped your head back again.  

You raised your hand,  staring right at him with narrowed eyes, “point of parliamentary procedure, is that really allowed?”

His hand shot up, “Point of parliamentary procedure, that has nothing to do with parliamentary procedure and would actually be-”

“Delegates!” The chair banged her gavel and he swore that the bulging vein that had formed in her forehead would pop. “It is time to go to break, so the chair would look favorably upon a motion to pause session.” He glanced at the clock and saw that it wasn’t even 4:00 yet. Way to spoil the fun. 

Of course the two of you shot your hands up, but she ignored them and picked Bertolt in the front. His voice was barely audible but with it came the signal to vote on the motion and then pack their stuff. The chair announced that they’d have to be back in the room by 8 am tomorrow and would resume the second session then.

Instead of the room lingering to talk to him like they normally did, everyone hurriedly packed up their things and rushed out of the room. He frowned, grabbing his laptop bag quickly, but not before glancing at you. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his and they immediately narrowed. “What?” you snapped, zipping up your backpack and slinging it over your shoulders.

He just shrugged, a lazy smile on his face. The tension in his jaw dissolved as he noticed how flustered you looked. Yeah, he was into this. 

***

After the two of you had caught up to the rest of your group, Moblit released everyone back to their rooms to get ready for the night. 

Armin still couldn’t believe they were doing a delegate dance. That was some shit you did in high school as some excuse for nerdy guys to finally talk to a girl. He would know. It was the first he’d actually managed to talk to a girl on his own, far away from the meddling of Eren and Mikasa.

So yeah, maybe these dances held a certain fondness in his heart in highschool, but now? In his time doing MUN at college, he’d never heard of such a thing. It must have been some weird tradition at this school specifically. Or some elaborate plot for the Secretary General to get some. Either way, he was not thrilled. 

The only benefit of the night he saw was being able to redeem his reputation. Part of the reason Armin was so good at this was because he was likable. If they despised him, then who would sign and vote on his resolutions? That was how you lost. 

And so he neatly combed his hair before messing it slightly (a trick he’d learned from Eren that gave him a certain boyish charm) and put on a new suit not distressed by today’s events.

Armin liked getting ready a certain way, having a clear cut routine he knew took exactly 30 minutes. But having to share the bathroom with you , a girl and one that took an awful long amount of time to get ready, was really throwing him off. Still, he couldn't help but glance over every so often, out of pure curiosity of course. The way you fixed your hair and neatly dotted makeup on your face was weirdly satisfying. 

Of course you looked great even before you were done getting ready. That wasn’t a compliment; it was simply a fact. You were a pretty girl. It didn’t mean he liked you or wanted you or anything. He just thought you could look nice, if you wanted to. 

To his utter surprise, you finish exactly when he demanded the two of you walk down. When you stood up and put on your heels, he had to resist the urge to simply just stare at you. 

He can’t help but wonder if you’d ever crossed paths at one of these things before. If he saw you from afar and thought you were the prettiest girl in the room. If he would have even had the balls to go up and talk to you. If you would have said yes to a dance. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn't notice you waiting by the door. You raise an annoyed eyebrow and he just shakes his head, rushing out of the room. The two of you hadn't said a word to each other since you came back up and it seemed you didn’t want to start now. But Armin’s plan didn’t stop here. 

“Are you excited for the dance?” He asked, sliding his hands into his pockets as the two of you fell in step. 

You gave him a weird look and just shrugged. “I mean, no. Are you?” You asked as they boarded the elevator to go down. He pressed the first floor but kept staring at the buttons.

“Of course I am. I’m going to secure my allies.” He smirked, lifting his chest. You scowled at that. Perfect.

“Let people have fun. No one wants to hear your bullshit right now Armin.”

“So what was your plan?” He says in an annoyed tone. You stick your nose up. “ I’m having fun. Bertolt said a few members are sneaking in shots.”

“You’re getting drunk?!” He exclaims loudly as they get out of the elevator. You quickly slap a hand over his mouth and it causes his face to flush. “Could you be any louder?” You look around the lobby but everyone already seems to be in the dance. 

“Cmon, I’ve seen you drink before.” You continue, letting your hand linger. He darts out his tongue to lick it, causing you to pull away in disgust. “Ew!”

“Don’t shush me. And besides, this is a professional conference! “ He practically shrieks. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I can’t believe you're friends with Eren,” you mutter and this causes him to bristle even more. As if you knew Eren better than him. As if you knew him at all. Sure Eren liked to party but he wouldn’t show up this drunk right?

He recalled last year when Eren and their friends had pregamed a class discussion. Yep, they'd definitely do this. 

Why were you being so relaxed and cool all of a sudden? Was it your weird desire to constantly be liked? Was it because of Bertolt? Were you trying to impress him or something? He doubted you needed to do that.

“This is pathetic. You need alcohol to be tolerable.”

“I think getting drunk would do you some good. Maybe it’d help to dissolve that stick up your ass!” Before he can reply, you’ve approached the check in table. He doesn’t miss the way the two boys look at you before they cross your name off. Matter of fact, they look pretty drunk themselves with their lazy smirks and flushed cheeks. Or maybe you just had that effect. 

He follows you into the ballroom which has completely transformed. In high school, the dance very much resembled a prom. Awkward sweaty teenagers trying to gather courage to speak to each other while a DJ, probably one of the faculty sponsors, played non-explicit music. No, this was very much different than that. This was a party. 

The lights are dimmed, there seems to be an actual DJ, and oh my god are people moshing? It reeks of weed and mango scented vapes and he wrinkles his face in disgust. He looks over to you to share the sentiment, but you’re already gone. He spots you by the bathrooms taking a glass bottle from Bertolt’s hand and the boy immediately reddens as your hands brush. Pathetic

You look around before downing the bottle, wincing as the liquid burned down your throat. He can’t even blame you. Shots are disgusting. 

He considers going over to you and saying something or even following you as you make your way into the pit of people. But that would be weird right? I mean, why spend more time with you than he needed to. Instead, he decides to proceed with his plan. Be charming. He could do that in his sleep. 

He unbuttons the top of his white button down and musses his hair up a little more. He even rolls up his shirt sleeves going in on the opposite end of you. Immediately he spots the person who was representing King Fritz. Rather than a greying old man, the delegate is a girl and an objectively gorgeous one at that. She’s tall with black hair and freckles dotted along her nose, an obvious kind of pretty. Not really his type, but he could work with this. 

“Hey,” he says, approaching with a smile. She’s too busy dancing at first to hear him so he has to awkwardly tap on her shoulder and only then does she seem to realize he’s even there.
“Oh my god, it’s Eldia!” She practically shrieks, tapping her friend, a short brunette girl, on the shoulder. She swings an arm around the shorter girl, nudging her side. 

“Hey,” he repeats, waving to the shorter girl. “Oh hi!” She says in a sugary sweet voice. Before she can say anything else, the taller girl speaks. “Dude you were cracking us up in there! Are you and that girl in a lover’s quarrel or something?” 

Armin can’t help but blush at this. Is that how he was being perceived? He wants to go scream into his pillow. 

“Oh no, not at all. She’s just really insufferable.” He replies, letting out a forced laugh. They don’t seem to believe him. “So, you enjoying the dance?” He asks, looking between the two of them. He thinks he’ll have more luck with the brunette, but then again the taller one seemed weirdly possessive of her. 

“Eh, Mia is killing it on her side, but personally I’m just here for the free accommodations.” Armin nods, looking to Mia. “Who are you representing?”
“The Tyburs,” she says proudly and he refrains from just abandoning the conversation altogether. Now he remembers her. She was one of your allies. It made sense given the politics and history of it all, but c'mon who would want to be paired with you? 

“Oh. That’s great.” He mutters, starting to look around them for his next target. “I think I have a chance at finally placing this year. Marley’s been really helpful in pushing us along.” She squeaks and his head snaps back to her. “Right.” He says blankly. So much for that.

They seem to get the memo and go back to dancing. He sees them pull out a shooter and he considers asking for it. This was clearly going nowhere. 

He makes a few rounds managing to talk to two of the nine titans and Hizaru, but his efforts feel futile. He’s charming the pants off of them and yet they’re all too inebriated for it to mean anything. He doubts they’ll even remember anything from tonight, much less their promise to sign his resolution. He can’t help but feel judged too for being so serious about everything. 

But that was the thing about Armin: he wasn’t relaxed, ever . Even at every party his friends dragged him to, he felt so trapped within himself. It was just who he was. He was always thinking about the next thing. And that currently was sharing a room with you tonight. 

It made him want to rip his hair out. What if you snored? Or sleep walked? Or even worse, looked perfectly angelic. He couldn’t do it. You weren’t human. Maybe you didn’t even sleep at all. 

His eyes can’t help but scan for you in the crowd. Unfortunately the only way he’s able to is because of the beanpole that is Bertolt who looms over everyone ominously. You’re grabbing his arms, forcing him to dance and laughing in the process. It doesn't feel romantic, at least on your end, but Armin knows the look in his eyes. He’s down bad. 

He can’t help but scowl. Yeah, tonight was gonna be a nightmare. He almost considers going over there to ruin your fun, but then he spots your council chair from earlier. She couldn’t have been older than yourselves and it’s evident in the way she sways not from the music, but from drunkenness. What was her name, Petra? 

Petra is on the other side of the ballroom and she’s using the walls to stabilize herself as she stumbles into the bathroom. Was she okay? 

Armin weaves through the crowd to the bathrooms, wincing as he walks through several clouds of smoke. When he finally makes it out, she’s gone. Probably having slipped into the women's restroom it puts him in an unfortunate position. He couldn’t just walk in there, could he? 

Forget being labeled as too serious. He’d be labeled as a pervert! 

He runs a hand through his hair and his eyes instinctively go back to yours. As much as he liked to ignore it, you were in fact a girl. And it would be a good excuse to get you away from Bertolt. He just hoped you wouldn’t steal the credit for helping her. 

He takes a deep breath and goes back into the crowd, grabbing your arm. “Ah what the fuck!” You say, clearly startled. You pull your arm away and turn to Bertolt who’s scowling. 

I need your help , is what he should say. But he doesn’t need you per say, does he? He’s sure he could find Annie if he wanted to. But the situation seemed too urgent. 

“Petra.” Is all he says. You furrow your eyebrows. “Who?”

“Our council chair. She’s sick and I can’t go help her.” He shouts over the loud music. 

“Why not?” You say and the annoyance is painted all over your face. Man, he should have just found Annie. “Because I’m a man.”

“Are you?” You can’t help but snicker and he grabs your arm again. “This is serious. She’s in the woman’s restroom.” Your face softens slightly and you give Bertolt an apologetic look. “Can I help?” He asks and Armin doesn’t even grant him a response, starting to pull you to the bathrooms. 

“How drunk are you?” He glances over at you trying to see any signs of half lidded eyes. You shake your head. “I’m fine. I had like, three shooters. I’m just buzzed.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you. That stuff was what, 80 proof? A shooter was supposed to resemble a standard shot and if you had had three within the span of say, forty minutes, you could be somewhat drunk. If he wanted to calculate your blood alcohol level-

“Armin?” You jolt his arm and he realizes he’s still holding you. He pulls his hand away and clears his throat. Was he really trying to do math right now?

He nods his head to the bathroom. “Go check on her. She seemed pretty messed up.” You nod your head and to his surprise, you don’t object. 

He waits a few minutes and just as he’s about to risk his reputation and go check on the two of you, you come out, Petra draped around your shoulder. She looks pretty bad and he can’t even tell if she’s conscious. 

“She just vomited like, five times in there.” You say, stroking the redhead’s back. “I think we got it all out, but she needs water and food.” 

He nods, eyes scanning the girl. She looked like she’d vomited five times . “We should call an ambulance.” Your face snaps up from her to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you kidding? Think about how much trouble she’ll get in. I looked and they have her as an event monitor for this.”
“You can’t be serious.” His eyes flick from you to Petra in disbelief. 

“Cmon Armin how would you feel if this was us?”
“It wouldn’t be.” He says adamantly. He would never let himself behave so recklessly at a school event. And you? Well, you were foolish for drinking now, but the way you were able to suddenly become serious had him a little impressed. 

“Maybe not, but this could put all of us in risk. Imagine the police come and they have to breathalyze everyone. There’s a lot of underage students here. Imagine Moblit having to deal with this.” This makes Armin finally pause. You were unfortunately right. Not everyone deserved to suffer because of one girl’s mistake. Besides, he’d dealt with his friend’s like this before. 

Sighing, he goes to grab Petra’s other shoulder and takes the weight off of you. You sigh and straighten out your back. “Thanks.” you mutter. “We have to get her out of here unseen. We can take her to our room and take care of her there.”

He nods and you momentarily duck out of the ballroom. “The coast is clear. I think the check in people are already inside.” You say. “Now’s the time to get her out.” 

The two of you work to get her through the door which is a little difficult considering she’s purely dead weight and the door is narrow. Being the man he is, Armin had fully taken up the task of carrying her while you remained on lookout. You run ahead to get the elevator and the doors open as soon as he catches up. You help push the two of them in, frantically pressing the close button as you see people start to approach. It closes just in time and you let out a sigh, leaning your head back against the elevator wall.

Armin’s arms hurt, he’s not going to lie. And you seem to notice when you glance to him on your left. “You okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He straightens his posture immediately and nods, Petra slipping a little in the process. He winces and quickly straightens out her head. 

You stifle a laugh, helping to hold her side. “Too heavy for you, Arlert?” He scowls, “why don’t you try next time? It’s like holding a loose bag of rocks.” 

“Oh cmon, she’s petite. You really need to start coming to more strength and conditioning. It’d certainly help your backhand.” You grin as the doors open to your floor. “If we’re talking about backhanding someone…” he mutters but you don’t hear him too busy scanning the hallway before gesturing for him to proceed. 

The walk isn’t too far from your shared room and he’s grateful. He wouldn’t say it, but he was about one minute away from just dropping the girl. It’s like a proven fact that dead weight is ridiculously heavy. If she was conscious this would have been easy for him, definitely. 

You unlock and hold the door open for them to slip through and he immediately lays her on your bed. The last thing he wants is to sleep in puke. You seem to notice but don’t say anything as you use one of your pillows to prop her up. He reaches out a hand to shake her awake and he lets out a sigh of relief as she starts to stir. 

“We need to keep her awake,” he says, standing up and going to the bathroom. He grabs one of the hotel’s glasses and fills it to the brim with water. He notices his hands shaking and splashes some of the cool liquid onto his face. He sneaks a peak at himself in the mirror and cringes at how panicky he looks right now. How did this even happen? 

When he comes back, you're sitting on the bed, gently stroking Petra’s back. You’ve luckily managed to wake the girl and he spots a trashcan next to the two of you. He slides onto the bed on the other side and lifts the glass to her lips. She protests and he’s not surprised. It’s a well known fact that drunk people hate drinking water, but he practically forces it down her throat. 

After a few sips she swats his hand and finally speaks. “Where am I?” She slurs.

“You’re in our hotel room. We’re in your council. I’m-.” Armin starts but she shakes her head. “Eldia and Marley. I recognize you two.” You both swallow and exchange looks. “You’re the two that keep arguing. What are you, exes?” She drunkenly scoffs.

Armin feels his cheeks start to heat up. “She’s drunk,” he says obviously as if that’ll make everything less awkward. You don’t lift your eyes from her and just let out a hum that has him feeling stupid. He notices that Petra’s still looking between them as if she wants an answer.
“No, we’re not exes.” You supply quietly. “Just friends.” 

He doesn’t know why but this surprises him. Did he think of you as a friend? Hardly. You were an enemy, a nemesis. But the softness of your voice and gaze once again make him question his perception of you. You're tender in this moment, soft and caring as you stroke her back. In the dim lighting of your hotel room, you’re almost human. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until you lift your eyes to his. Your gaze hardens immediately. “What do we do with her?”

He averts his eyes to the white sheets, picking at a loose string. Armin always has a plan. It’s who he is. But he could have never planned for this.
He temporarily leaves the bed to grab his computer bag and sets it on his lap, vigorously typing. “Are you working on something right now?” You snap, managing to keep your voice low despite the clear anger behind it. He rolls his eyes, turning the screen to face you. It’s the conference’s website, specifically the contact page
“I’m finding someone we can call. If not the police, then one of her peers. We’ll let her sober up in here with us for a little bit and then we’ll call someone to take her off our hands.” He said simply. A weird part of him almost didn’t want to see the drunk girl go considering it would leave the two of you alone in here. She was a nice barrier, in a way. Once she was gone, what would they talk about? What would they do? It had his palms sweating like it was first kiss or something. 

NOT THAT THEY WERE GOING TO KISS! No. way. The thought disturbed him. So much so it created a fluttering sensation in his stomach that was most definitely not butterflies.

He was so distracted that he almost missed the familiar face on the website. A student named Olou who looked way too old to still be in college. During the opening ceremony, he remembered the two of them chatting once she’d been announced as their chair. Sure enough, he was chairing the adjacent council, Liberio. 

He picked up his phone, noticing a few texts from Eren which he decided to ignore, and called Olou. Petra was babbling nonsense so he went to the bathroom for some quiet. It took him a few tries to get an answer but eventually he picked up. The student sounded surprised and he grumbled something under his breath that Armin couldn’t quite catch. Eventually he agreed to come up and get her but it’d have to be in a little while; apparently another one of their peers, Eld, was in a similar state. 

As soon as he hung up, his phone flashed with a picture of him and Eren from back when they were kids. They were posed up in Dr. Jaeger’s office, Armin on the patient table and Eren giggling from a chair. It’d been Armin’s first time getting a shot and he was practically wailing. Eren had fetched him just about half of his dad’s supply of lollipops and dumped them onto the blonde boy’s lap. It made him smile for the first time that day and Eren snatched his dad’s phone, taking a selfie of the two of them. 

In the picture, Armin was completely unaware so his face was half tears half distracted laughter while Eren’s big grin took up half the frame. In the end, it was a fond memory because of his best friend’s ability to make everything better. He looked out for Armin, always. No doubt that was what he was trying to do now, albeit in his least favorite way. Sighing, Armin answered, “hello?”

“Armin,” he could practically hear Eren’s grin in his voice. “How’s mun?” Eren always found it funny to call it that. Is it short for mundane? He’d one time quipped. 

Armin ran a hand down his face, leaning against the sink. “It’s alright. Long story short, the girl who’s in charge of our committee got really fucked up at the dance so we’re taking care of her.”

“We?”

Armin tensed. “Uh yeah, me and Bertolt.” He lied. The last thing he needed right now is Eren’s incessant teasing. “Huh, I didn’t really think you liked the guy that much.” He hummed.

“Well not really but-” Your screeching voice someone pierced through the closed door, “Armin! She’s puking again!” 

The line went silent for a second and he took the opportunity to grab one of the folded white towels and scream into it.

“No way,” His best friend started to wheeze and he picked the phone up, pressing it firmly to his ear. “Shut up.” He said in a whisper yell. “Look, I needed someone to go into the women’s restroom to get the girl, okay?”
“So the two of you are alone, in a hotel room?” He should hang up, he should definitely hang up. But the last thing he needed was assumptions to be made and then passed on to Mikasa who would then call you. “Not alone, there’s Petra.”

“And after you finish cleaning up that puke?” He winced at the thought. He made the right bed choice. “You gonna walk her back to her room? Give her a little goodnight kiss?”
“No, I'm not walking her back.” He said firmly. 

“Dude, that’s fucked up. Be a gentleman, cmon.” 

What was worse? His chivalry being questioned or ultimately admitting who his roommate was. He quickly screamed into the towel again before clearing his throat. “Moblit made a mistake with the rooming assignments. Since she’s new, we’re sharing a room. With two beds, of course!”
More laughter. 

“Look, it’s not a big deal. It’s one night. Don’t make this into something it’s not, please .” His desperation seemed to seep through the phone and Eren finally stopped laughing. “Okay, sorry. Look, just let me know if anything happens, alright?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He mumbled and he finally hung up the phone, staring at himself in the mirror. What was his hesitation with you, other than the fact that you were, well you? Insufferabilities aside, there was maybe something there. Was it Eren and Mikasa’s insistence? Was it a fear that you would only be with him to solidify your place in the group? 

Looking back, his friends really hadn’t meddled when it came to you. You joined model un on your own, you were on the tennis team because it was you that had tried out. The only time he’d hung out with you because of your friends was the Halloween party. 

Which reminded him, if you really needed some stronghold relationship to make friends, you could have had that with Connie. Sure he was more of a mutual friend than anything, but he was someone that clearly wanted you. It would have been easy.

Nothing about Armin was easy. He was prideful, insistent, ambitious to a fault. He’d been pushing you away since the start. And you were still here. Not entirely by choice, sure, but fate? Something beyond yourselves was working here. Was he a fool to keep denying it?

This was stupid. You hadn’t even showed him any interest. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if he was going through all this torment and you didn’t even have the slightest bit of attraction towards him. 

And yet, they always said hate wasn’t the opposite of love, right? But he didn’t care. No, not at all. 

He fixed his hair, messy from running his hands through it so much, and opened the door to their room. It was significantly darker. You must have turned off the overhead lights, leaving the warm glow of the scattered lamps.

“Hey,” you said softly, dim shadows casted on your face. Your eyes seemed sleepy and your sleeves were rolled up which made him cringe. His eyes scanned the bed for any stains, but you shook your head. “We got it in the trashcan, fortunately.” He noticed then that Petra had fallen asleep and he hurried forward, sitting on her other side to wake her. 

“Wait.” You held out a hand to stop him. “I think it's okay to let her rest. She got out everything and I’ve given her so much water along with a protein bar I had. Plus, I propped her up, see?” Sure enough, your entire set of pillows were supporting her back so that she was sitting up like the two of you. 

“Did you find someone to come get her?” Armin almost forgot that’s what he’d gone to do. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard. “Yeah, the chair of the Liberio council. Some guy named Olou. He’s busy taking care of another person though, so he said it might be a while.”

You let out a sigh, leaning your head back as well. It was harder to see your face due to Petra blocking his view, but he still tried. “Of course. I hope Bertolt and the others got back okay. Everyone seemed to have gone a little too crazy.”

The blonde nods but he can’t help but stiffen at the sound of the taller boy’s name. Why did it bother him so much that you were concerned for him? You seem to notice his obvious disdain and frowned. “Am I really leading him on?” 

It shocks him that you’re talking about this of all things, though he supposes it's his fault. “I should apologize.” He sits up so that he can properly look you in the eyes. He’s not sure what he’s doing but it feels right. At the end of the day, he considered himself to be a good person. “What I said earlier today wasn’t fair. You’re just…” it pains him but he forces it out, “likeable. You don’t owe anyone anything. In a way, I’m jealous.”

You furrow your eyebrows, sitting up in response. “You’re jealous? Of me?” He nods, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. “People like you, very easily. It comes naturally to you.” 

You scoffed slightly. “And they don’t like you? You have everyone practically eating out of your palm.”

He shakes his head, “maybe, but I try. I,” he takes a deep breath, “I try so hard.” His voice weakens a little and he hates how weak and pathetic it makes him sound. He didn’t want your pity.

He expects you to ridicule him or roll your eyes, but they find the bed spread and he sees your throat bob. “Me too.” Is all you say. 

The room is silent until the sound of knocking startles both of you. Armin quickly stands up and opens the door. Sure enough, it’s Oluo. There’s several others with him along with a boy hanging onto his shoulders, presumably Eld. 

You help get the drunk girl to the door and hand her off. Armin feels a little guilty just leaving herl, but she seemed a lot better now. She really just needed to sleep it off. Plus, for her sake, it’d be ten times more embarrassing waking up in your council’s hotel room than your own. 

Before a boy who introduced himself as Gunther can grab Petra, she quickly turns around and grabs the front of Armin’s shirt and your dress. “Look,” she slurs out, alternating wide eyed stares between the two of you. “I don’t care how messy your break up was,”
“We’re not-” you try to say again, but she interrupts you. “There’s something special here. The two of you are gonna lose tomorrow if you keep this bullshit up, which would be a shame considering your position papers were good. Just kiss and write that damn love child resolution.” 

Gunter mumbles out an embarrassed apology and drags her to the elevator. For a second you both just stare at the now empty space in the hallway, before you clear your throat and he finally lets the door shut. 

He slowly turns to face you, ducking his hands into his pockets. He opens and closes his mouth to say something, before going over to the small plastic coffee maker on the room’s sole desk. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Making coffee,” Armin replies with a small smile. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

Chapter Text

“Okay,” you crack your knuckles in front of you for what seems like the millionth time tonight. Your eyes hurt from your bright laptop screen and you were still a little tipsy up until about a half hour again when Armin changed his shirt in front of you which really sobered you up. “What about a clause regarding Helos’ establishment as a symbol.” 

Armin looked over at you, blue eyes sleepy and yet shockingly bright. “That’s a good idea.” He hums, starting to type something on his computer. 

Technically, they weren’t supposed to be writing anything outside of the conference, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t draft up some ideas in the process, right? Plus, you had to refine all of your speeches considering your entire position had changed as a result of the man on your left.

The two of you had started on your respective beds, but eventually just decided to move to the foot of yours since you were tired of continuously getting up to look at his laptop. The blonde boy had changed into sweats and a t shirt while you had regretfully thrown on an old shirt from your badminton team and a small pair of shorts. Of course you hadn’t expected to be rooming with a man, much less Armin, but it was all you had. 

“I have a good feeling about tomorrow,” he said suddenly as he vigorously typed. “I mean, it wasn’t under ideal circumstances, but we got good advice from our chair. Better to find out now, then tomorrow.”

“Find out what, that everyone hates us?” You scoffed. 

“More or less, yeah.” He shrugged with a smile that you had to admit, was kinda cute. It made him look younger, more innocent. “Well I don’t want to win just because we took care of her.” You groaned. “That would defeat the purpose.”
“Yeah it would.” He nodded and you couldn’t help but appreciate that he understood what you meant. The satisfaction of a win didn’t just come from the title itself. It came from the work you put into it, knowing there was a part of you laying in that trophy. “But I don’t think she’d do that. I mean, she seems pretty serious about her job, barring the whole drunken affair. If anything, she’d have an inclination towards helping her own school win.”

You nod, “hm, I guess you're right.” You pour yourself some more coffee, stretching out your arms. “You really think this will work? It’s not just about us finally getting along. It’s our countries. Marley and Eldia are sworn enemies.”
He takes a sip of his own cup, shrugging. “If we can do it, why can’t they?” You know he means it as a joke but it makes you pause. Were you really over the whole rivals thing? You're not sure you can ever look at Armin and not want to compete with him, but this right here? It’s… nice. You work well together oddly enough. And the shared goal of winning momentarily calms any hostility. 

After she’d left, the two of you had really taken Petra’s words to heart. After making a large pot of coffee, you’d both decided to put aside your personal vendettas and try to create the so-called love child resolution that Petra had stammered about. It felt weird to call it that considering it made you think about consummation with him which made you get all awkward and sweaty, but it did have a nice ring to it. Call it your first inside joke. 

“I suppose.” You nod, looking over your outline for tomorrow. He sets his computer down and turns toward you, the dim lighting making his skin glow a warm orange hue. “It’s about compromise. Marley and Eldia are enemies because Marley feels threatened by Eldia. Eldia has all of these titan capabilities and it has been using them to assert dominance over Marley against its own will. Marley wants to retaliate, but it doesn’t have the capabilities so it must reach a common consensus.” You nod, setting your own laptop aside to give him your full attention.

“Both countries have people they want to protect so they create this fictional character, Helos, who’s going to save Marley by taking out the titans. Helos isn’t real, but that’s not the point. The point is both countries are sacrificing something for the sake of compromise. Eldia is banishing themselves to an island to atone for their sins while Marley is finally free, albeit weak.”
“So both sides are weakening each other for the sake of the other’s survival?” You ask, noticing how his eyes become impossibly brighter as he speaks. 

“Maybe. But is giving up what you perceive to be the strongest part of you really a weakness if it helps you survive?” He finishes, a faint smile on his lips. You stare up at him with slightly parted lips and you almost feel the warmth of his breath on your face.You didn’t realize how close he’d become in his explanation and he blushes a little, moving back to his original spot. 

“That makes sense.” You nod, giving him a small smile. “Sometimes you have to let something go in order to preserve the rest.” You’re not sure you’re talking about the council anymore. 

You sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the night, the sole sound of keys clicking filling the room. You don’t even realize how you unconsciously get closer at every glance at his laptop or that your eyelids start to droop. 

***

It’s the sound of a phone ringing that wakes you up and not the familiarity of your alarm. It takes you a second to realize where you are and your cheeks immediately heat up as you realize who you’re on. 

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night, much less laying your head on Armin’s strong shoulder. When you lift your head, you notice him start to stir too and when his eyes pop open, you both just stare at each other for an uncomfortably long second. “Is that your phone?” You mutter, quickly scooching away. 

He nods, scrambling through his pockets before he answers it. “Hello?”

Needing to find something to do other than stare at him, you glance at the alarm clock up on the nightstand of the bed you were supposed to be sleeping on. Your eyes widen at the time and you swat at his arm. Before he can protest, you point to the time and he mutters something to the phone before tossing it aside. 

It’s 8:30 which would be a perfectly adequate time to wake if your council didn’t start in thirty minutes. Fuck .

It’s comical the way you both shoot up and run to your dressers. Neither of you seem to even care that you’re changing in front of each other, carelessly discarding your pajamas on the floor and shimmying into your business attire. You nearly collide into each other half naked multiple times and it would be mortifying if you weren’t so focused on other things. 

You barely manage to smooth down your hair before Armin’s holding the door open looking at you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Key, phone, computer, charger, notebook, and pencil?” You rush out before the door shuts. He doesn’t even bother looking confused by the string of words and simply nods, double checking his computer bag. 

You check your watch and try to calm your speeding heart rate when you see it at 8:50. It was about a five minute walk to the council room, so they would make it there right in time. Five minutes early was later than you would have liked, but after the disaster of this morning, you felt lucky to even be awake. 

“Who was calling you?” you finally manage to ask as you settle into your seats. Yesterday the seats were assigned, but today you were free to move your placard where you liked. You and Armin don’t even discuss sitting next to each other and simply glide right into the middle two seats, with him on the left, again. 

Mostly everyone is already in the council and you spot Petra in the front. Her back is to the room so that you can only see her short red hair, but you’re sure you’ll see the embodiment of a hangover when she does turn around. 

“Eren.” He says simply, readjusting his cuffs and organizing his pencils. You furrow your eyebrows, “what did he want?”

You swear you see the tips of his ears turn red. “Nothing, he just had a long drive to the gym.” It seems odd but you don’t question it. “Huh. Good thing he called then.”

“Yeah,” Armin let out a sigh of relief and opened up his laptop. “Are you ready?” He asks. \ You would be offended he felt the need to even ask, but the small smirk on his face makes you realize it was rhetorical. Despite your little slip up this morning, you were both more than ready. 

You extend your hand slightly in a fist bump motion and it takes him a second to mimic it, but once he does you feel sparks shoot up your arm. There’s a newfound exhilaration in you when you think about this conference. Instead of dreading arguing with Armin, you were now looking forward to what the two of you could do. It’s an odd feeling but for the first time in your life, you feel like you’ve finally met your match.

You make eye contact with him and nod, before turning your attention to the front. 

Bring it on.

***

It’s almost laughable how easy the rest of the second session proceeds. Once everyone saw that you were teaming up, there was even more confusion. It took some convincing for people to really believe that Eldia and Marley had made up, but you think the reality of it sold it even more.

The two of you, much like your countries, weren’t automatically fixed. You weren’t about to turn around and suddenly start fluttering your eyelashes and becoming a stuttering mess around him. He was still Armin: annoying, pathetically stubborn, competitive Armin. But you had a shared goal and that was enough to at least temporarily craft a metaphorical olive branch. 

And damn , the two of you worked well together. You were like a well oiled machine, passing his computer back and forth wordlessly as you wrote your resolution. During unmoderated discussions, one of you would go around the room, smoothing any of the other delegates’ uncertainty while the other would foster the support of the current allies. And then on the next discussion, the two of you would switch roles. You were both so similar in strengths and weaknesses, so entirely cut from the same cloth that it was like you were two heads of the same monster. And you were both so damn charming no one could really complain that you were practically running the entire council. 

You were buzzing with energy when you rolled into lunch, finding the rest of your school in one of the school’s dining halls. It was smaller than your one at Shiganshina, but it still had a wide variety of options. You eyed some of the vegetarian food and wordlessly, Armin followed as you got in line. 

“I think we’re doing good.” You finally turn to say, scooping on something that looked like vegetable spaghetti. You kinda just wanted to grab some greasy pizza but, brain food, right?
He nodded, his blonde hair a warmed color under the lights. “As of now, we have enough signatures to go to vote. Plus, basically everyone likes the premise. As long as no one decides to go mutinous and vote against us, we have our resolution.”

You smiled at him, noticing the same excited aura buzzing around him. There was a glow in his cerulean eyes that was vaguely familiar to you. You’d only ever see it when he’d won something, a pride that knew no limits. It was fascinating; it made you want to dive into them. 

The two of you regale the morning’s events to Moblit who, in between chewing his tuna sandwich, gives you an excited thumbs up. Shiganshina had a pretty good track record when it came to winning these competitions, but compared to schools such as the University of Marley, it paled in comparison. Shiganshina simply wasn’t known for its International Relations program you had found out, compared to its stellar STEM schools. Of course it benefitted kids like you and Armin who merely dabbled in diplomacy for fun, but this meant something to Moblit. It made the two of you proud that you would possibly be taking home a win this year for the school. 

After a filling lunch, you head back into your council, trailing behind Armin. He heads straight for your earlier seats, but you decide to take a second to check in on Petra. You knew there was some selfishly driven part of you that wanted to get on her good side, but you were also worried. You glanced back and saw Armin’s face flash with something that looked vaguely like betrayal. Should you have gone up to her together?

You swallow, focusing back on the red haired girl. “Hey,” you said, keeping your voice soft. “How are you doing?”

Her pale skin flushed with a bright color and you saw her pretend to click on something on her laptop, staring at the screen instead of you. “I’m fine.” She grumbled. 

You nodded, leaning forward a little. “Look, you didn’t do anything embarrassing. It happens to everyone. Your secret is safe with us.” You added a reassuring smile and she finally let her eyes drift to you. “Us?” You furrowed your eyebrows, “yeah me and-”

“Look,” she interrupted. “I’m not gonna give you any extra points just because you supplied some basic human decency. I barely remember it anyways. One thing I was pregaming in my room and the next, I was huddled over the toilet. Next thing I knew, Oluo was waking me up to go to this shit.”

You nod, noticing the large gap in her memory. It was like the entire segment of you and Armin taking her to your room was completely gone. Did she not remember him?

“But,” she sighed. “I do appreciate it. It was messy and irresponsible and I got lucky it was you who found me and not one of my superiors. So, thank you.”

Should you say something? But she already seemed so done with this conversation. It wasn’t really that relevant anyways. 

You nodded, fingers nervously toying with each other. “Like you said. Basic human decency.” 

“Good luck today.” She said before turning her attention back to the computer. You head back up to your seat and Armin frowns at you. “What was that?”
“Oh nothing,” you feign indifference, setting your stuff down. You didn’t do anything wrong, right? “I was just checking on her. She seems a lot better.”

“I’d hope so.” he mutters. “Still, I would have liked to check on her too. Maybe I’ll head up before the next break.” His tone was pissy and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Sure, he probably had a valid reason to be concerned, but it wasn’t even that big of a deal. 

Armin and you worked well together. He wasn’t that bad, but you would stop at nothing to win this thing. If she just so happened to forget about him, then what could you do? There could only be one winner.

The first two hours of the session go great. Everyone is signing off on your resolution and things are going exactly as planned. At the halfway mark, someone comes into the room to hand Petra some papers and she calls a quick break to take care of them. Some people mill around the room and continue the diplomatic discussions, but you’re tired from last night. You decide to give yourself a break and scroll aimlessly on your phone. 

Armin doesn't come sit back down and when Petra bangs her gavel for everyone to take a seat, you see Armin exiting her desk. You try to read his facial expressions but his head is ducked down enough to block them from view.

“Everything okay?” You ask, when he suddenly slams himself into the seat next to you. “Fine.” He smiles and you let out a small sigh of relief. He probably just had a question about turning the paper in. 

Petra starts to read off the working papers that had been turned in one by one. The first couple are pretty weak, something about creating anti-titan restriction zones. So far, yours is the strongest one. 

Finally, she displays it on the screen and you scan the document, initially looking at the number of signatures. It’s not until she calls up the authors to speak on their papers that you freeze. 

She doesn’t call your name.

And why would she? You read the list ten times over, but your name’s not even on the paper. No, the one and only author is Eldia .

He-he erased your name?!?!

Armin smirks and goes up to the front giving some bullshit speech about how spearheaded this idea and single-handedly manufactured the figure of Helos to smooth the conflict. How he had conversations with multiple nations to draft a cohesive and cooperative document, neglecting to mention which nations. 

You're practically seething, hands shaking as you fight the urge to stand up and call him out. But that asshole would probably just call “point of parliamentary procedure” on you. 

Asshole

Dickhead

Piece of Shit

Immature expletives fill your mind and none of them are good enough to describe the absolute monster that is Armin Arlert. 

Do you go up to Petra and explain the blatant plagiarism? Do you get the rest of the council to turn on him? Do you take the high road and admit that maybe, just maybe you had this coming?

One, Petra probably wouldn’t care. She was too hungover and too apathetic to do anything about it. She’d tell you to figure it out. 

Two, it could be done, maybe. The two of you had swayed the room in your favor together. Even a fifty fifty split could get his paper voted below majority if you tipped the scales in your favor. 

Three? Fuck. No. 

You let yourself fall to no man. 

He glides into his seat after, whistling a little tune. Your head turns in terrifying slowness and you let your hand drift down to his knee, letting it support you as you lean forward. You feel him stiffen as your hot breath grazes his ear.

“I am going to end you.” You say in the huskiest, sexy, yet disturbing voice you can muster before pulling away. The only indication that he’d heard you is the faint gulp her makes before his lips settle into a smirk. 

“Had a nice chat with Petra. She seems to have forgotten that I was the one that made the decision to rescue you. I wonder what furthered that idea, huh?”

“Maybe you’re just so forgettable.” You hum with a smile. He lets out a breathy laugh. “We had a nice time together. You’re not so awful to work with. It’s a shame you’re too insecure that you couldn’t trust yourself to win without sabotage.” His voice is quiet and casual, like he’s discussing the weather. 

“You call that sabotage?” You laugh right back at him. “I wasn’t even trying.”

“Well, why don’t you?” He hums, eyes scanning your face. You swear they glance briefly at your lips but you’re definitely imagining it. Why would they at a time like this? 

This was war.

Chapter Text

Glorious.

Absolutely glorious. 

That’s what it had felt like to practically charge his army at you, full speed ahead. To see the look of absolute hatred laced with respect and maybe attraction (?? he could have been imagining that) on your face. 

You’d managed to split the room in half with your supporters while he’d done the same. Interestingly enough, you hadn’t gone the route of telling everyone that he’d erased your name. Of course it was implied, but what you had done was much more interesting. 

It turns out the papers that Petra had received earlier were directions to a crisis, some crazy event that would turn the council upside down. In this case, Eldia had supposedly threatened Marley with the Rumbling. The premise was absolutely ridiculous and it only gave you more ammo. 

And you, cunning, strategic, and wickedly intelligent, had spun the perfect web of deceit, giving you exactly what you needed to get people on your side. You’d used the crisis to justify the sudden animosity and were now writing your own resolution in retaliation. 

Was he upset that you’d neglected to remind Petra of his role in helping you? Abso-fucking-lutely. It’d been his idea in the first place! Maybe erasing your name was messed up, but in the grand scheme of things, justified. In a sense, you’d erased his name first. 

He needed to win this thing. So what if it wasn’t even nationals or a large conference? It was important because it was with, I mean against, you. 

Yesterday night and this morning were fun. He couldn’t deny it. He liked working with you, he liked watching you think. It was easy. And he’d crushed it.

Maybe he was self-sabotaging. Truthfully, he had never liked easy. If things, good things, just fell into his lap he couldn’t trust them. So even though he had this perfect thing going with you, he decided to blow it right up again. To see if you truly saw all of the miserable and conceited parts of him, would you still stick around? Would you really like him for what he truly was?

Better to do it now, right? Before things escalated, before if anything at all happened. His call with Eren this morning was brief given the time constraint and the fact that you were right there. He could only affirm or deny what his friend was saying and he kept asking if the two of you had kissed! How absurd. 

That wasn’t his focus. Not now, at least. He needed you to hate him again, to have all your attention on loathing him. Cause if the two of you continued to be easy, you’d get sick of him, you would fall into complacency. You were too good to be true, so of course he had to change that, right?

He was insane. Truly. 

To really rub it in, you’d had Bertolt, who was representing the colossal titan, as a coauthor. He didn’t say much as you stood up there explaining your paper, eyes locked in on him as you laid out every accusatory clause. When it was his turn to explain his paper, he did the same. It was like you two were the only people in the room. 

With only two hours left in the council, he realizes that it might just be too late for you. He’d enacted his betrayal at the right time. All of the support the two of you had garnered this morning might be enough for his existing, slightly adjusted resolution, to be voted in. Of course this didn’t mean he just automatically won, but it certainly helped. 

And he knows you know it too. At this point, you’re just trying to smear his reputation. Make it so everyone knows what an awful disgusting person he is. Make it so that you know it. 

At the award ceremony, you sit on the opposite end of Armin, huddled up with Bertolt. The shy boy looks at you like you hold stars in your eyes and maybe the two of you make sense together. Maybe what you needed was someone who not only worshipped the ground you walked on, but also lied on it too. But did you want it?

You must feel his eyes on you because you suddenly snap your head and scowl at him. He responds with a glistening smile and a small wave which causes you to roll your eyes. He hears Annie’s faint laughter from beside him, but when he turns to her it's already gone. 

“What?” He trusted the blonde girl to be honest with him. She always had been. Freshman year he’d respected her so much he even developed a small crush on her. Eventually he realized they would never work out, but her advice never failed him.
“What is your end game here?” Her expression remained bored and she continued to stare at the stage in the small auditorium they were in. Despite it, he knew this was her way of expressing concern.

“What do you mean? I’m trying to win.” He said obviously, ignoring the crawling feeling in his stomach. 

“Win what ?”

He blinked, fumbling with the sleeves of his button down. 

What was he trying to win?

The Battle? Or the War? 

What was either even about? 

What satisfaction was he possibly gaining from today? If and when he won, what was he to do? Wave around the slip of paper before eventually handing it off to Moblit for the trophy case? Tell Eren who would just high five him and then ask about you? Rub it in your face and make you hate him even more?
Perhaps he’d made a mistake.

He’d never had felt as content as when the two of you had worked together. He’d never felt like he’d won something so powerful, so everlasting. Because winning, albeit great, was temporary. It made you behave like an addict, craving the slightest bit of affirmation before it faded and you did heinous things to get that feeling back. 

What would a lifetime with you feel like?

It had him feeling nauseous, his shirt sleeves too tight, his suit jacket suffocating. The fluorescent lighting of the room burned and his palms started to sweat profusely. 

The secretary general finally came up to the stage to announce the winners and the lower council’s chairs started to give speeches and present awards. Oluo went and finally, Petra.

Best position paper went to Bertolt who looked just as surprised as Armin did. His gangly limbs unfolded themselves from the small seat and he went up, your loud applause filling your section.

Honorable Mention went to Mia, the girl representing the Tyburs. He clapped but he couldn’t help but scoff to himself. What did she do?

Finally, the award of Outstanding Delegate was presented to you. He saw you go through the seven stages of grief, not bothering to stand up at first thanks to denial. Moblit nudged you and you eventually went up, lips in a flat line. 

Of course he didn’t feel any of the usual satisfaction when he was named Best Delegate. He was pretty sure he saw Petra recoil in disgust when he shook her hand, so laced with sweat. The two of you stood next to each other for a picture and you immediately headed for your room when you were released. By the time Armin made it through all of the handshakes and congratulations, you had already cleared out your stuff from the hotel. 

He stared at the empty half, grieving what could have been. His memory flashed back to seeing you in the warm lighting, glowing with excitement over your new partnership. You weren’t just beautiful; you were radiant. 

This was exactly like Armin. As a child who had grown up bullied, it was first instinct to build up walls at the slightest sense of rejection. You had let Petra forget about him and he had come back tenfold. 

On the bus ride back, he sits with Annie again. They’d talked a lot on the way to Stohess because she was in a rare good mood, but now he was the somber one. He kept glancing over at you and Bertolt with a looming sense of regret. 

Would you go to him now? Would you feel so defeated from this weekend that you would be forced to seek out someone so below you? Would you get married and his boringness eventually dull your everything-ness?

Like a snowball, the possibilities infected his mind and poisoned his entire trip back. 

Good thing he had planned to go to the tennis courts tonight. The two of you had missed several practices due to this trip and the last thing he needed was to fall behind. Plus, maybe it’d help him get out of his own head. 

When they arrived back at the parking lot he stuffed his suitcase and his sorry ass back into the prius. As he backed out, he couldn’t help but see you leaving WITH BERTOLT!

He watched the boy struggle to fit into your small car and Armin considered just ramming into him. With great pain, he forced himself to just drive by. 

He had won the battle, or in tennis terms, the game, this stupid conference. And yet, was it at cost of the match? Of the war? Once again, what exactly was the war? Was it you?

What was with him? He’d never been like this over a girl?

But you weren’t just a girl. You were everything he could have ever wanted. That was an issue too. 

When he gets back to his apartment, to his surprise it’s just Eren there. He’s cooking something over the stove that smells pretty good and it reminds Armin how hungry he was. The vegetti you’d picked earlier did little to satiate his appetite, but brain food, right? 

“Armin, hey.” Called out the brunette boy who kept his back turned to the stove. “Hey,” Armin slumped onto their lumpy couch. His hands mindlessly played with a stray string sticking out. 

“Any mun updates? How’s your woman?” This caused Armin to slump even more so that he became a sort of ball. He grabbed the thick futon blanket and swung it over his frame as if to shield himself from this conversation. “She’s not my woman.”
“Eh,” Eren shrugged coming over to throw the blanket to the side, ruffling his blonde hair. Armin grumbled in protest, “hey!” Eren laughed heartily, swinging himself over to take a seat next to him. In his hands was some sort of chicken and potato dish and he reached over to snag a piece. 

“Don’t hide from me.” he tsked. “Mikasa told me that your girl didn’t have the best time. Apparently she took our boy Bertolt to go get a sweet treat to cope. Why weren’t you invited to this sweet treat function, hm?” 

Armin rolled his eyes. “Look after our call, we decided to work together. It was going really well until I found out she didn’t tell the chair that I was the one who decided to help her when she was drunk. So in revenge,” he took a deep breath before rushing the words out. “ Isortoferasedhernameoffourpaper ”

Eren blinked before taking a potato and effectively launching it at him. It rolled pathetically off his dress shirt onto the floor. “You did what!” 

That launched into the hour long explanation of everything that happened this past weekend. How you had been roomed together and then fought. How your chair got really drunk and essentially told the two of you to get your shit together. How you finally worked together and it was perfect until he saw the first sense of disloyalty which resulted in a full out war. How, despite winning, he felt completely empty on the bus ride back. 

At first his roommate doesn’t say anything. Just stares at his bowl before standing up and going to his room. He returns not even a half second later, pushing out the giant rollable whiteboard his parents had gotten him when he moved in. 

Eren was pre-med so he regularly just sat out here drawing the same organic molecules and biological functions over and over until he looked crazy. The board was blank now and in his hand was a single blue marker. 

Neatly, he wrote a single title at the top of the board: Operation - How to Get the Girl

He cleared his throat, straightening out his posture and morphing into the perfect professor. 

“A year ago you helped me when I almost fumbled the love of my life. I had really fucked up and you were the one to make things right between us again. So I’m gonna do the same for you. Even if she’s not the one, you have an issue. You don’t think it's possible for someone to really like you.” Armin winced. “And if they do, they have to go through insane loops to prove it. I love you buddy, really. But if I ever want to be your man of honor, we have to fix some things.”

He raised the marker, starting to write furiously. 

Step 1: Be a Good Guy

***

Eren’s plan, which happened to be a five step one, was exactly how he ended up at the tennis court, with not one, but two bottles of water. You were on the other side of the course, staring him down as he handed you one. 

“Thanks.” You said in a monotone voice that definitely reflected you were still pissed. That was okay. 

When he’d offered to drive you to the court you’d declined. He was lucky you even showed up at all, but thank goodness you did. He was sure Eren would find an even more tortuous way to prove himself if you hadn’t.

He had discovered that all of Eren’s steps were actually one’s he’d coached Eren on a year ago, slightly reworked to fit the context. It had worked with Mikasa, so it’d work with you, right?

Step 1: Be a Good Guy

Be kind, be the good guy he was raised to be. Be the kind of guy that offers to drive you to the court and brings an extra bottle of water because they both should get in some practice before their match next week. 

He had already completed that step and sure, you were seething as you raised your racket to serve, but that was okay! The whole point of a multistep plan was that you needed every step. Maybe this was secretly some way for you to just pelt a bunch of balls at him, but perhaps that was his penance. And being the good guy that he was, he would take it. 

It reminds him of the first time the two of you had played. The only difference was that there was no audience to keep score. Or, to keep you from killing him. 

He always had to remind himself how good you were, how fast. While his swings tended to be stronger and harder, you moved so swiftly across the court it hardly even mattered. 

Once again, the two of you were pretty evenly matched so it dragged on and on. His body ached from the lack of practice recently, but your resolve hardly seemed to weaken. Anger was always the greatest steroid. 

Plus, he was a bit distracted. After his conversation with Eren, he realised how screwed he was, how deeply into this disgusting pit called love he’d fallen. It made everything about you even more attractive. The way your arms tensed when you hit the ball, the determination and anger on your face. The way your legs looked in a tennis skirt and how you were getting closer and closer to the net. Your back was lit up by the sunset and it made you look ever more positively angelic. 

Back and forth and back and forth the ball passed and his muscles were screaming with agony. But the motivation of proving himself to you, of being your punching bag kept him in. The longer he played, the closer he could get and the prettier you looked. 

In response to a particularly fast backhand, he hits the ball way shallower than he’d anticipated causing you to run full fledged for the net. You don’t seem to realize how close you already are and your leg snags on the net causing you to fly forward.

And not just forward, but actually on top of him. With a hard thud that knocks the wind out of him, he’s on his back, the rough floor scraping the backs of his shins. It hurts but the acute feeling of your body weight distracts him, clearly. His hands go to your waist to lift you off, but the way you’re looking at him makes him pause. 

There’s no clear hatred or fury or animosity lingering in the backs of your irises. There’s something else, something like he saw that night in your hotel room. It’s warm and inviting and despite the scraping of the floor and the elbow in his gut, he wants to be here forever. His mind scrambles for what to do next. Should he confess his feelings? Ask you out? Even kiss-

But you beat him to it, lips pressing onto his. 

His eyes stay open for far longer than they should due to the pure shock of it but he quickly closes them to savor the feeling. Who knows when you’ll finally come to your senses? 

His first kiss embarrassingly wasn’t until college, a month into his freshman year to be exact. He’d finally blossomed into his looks and went to one of the rush events for some frat Jean wanted to join. Armin had no interest in doing the same, but they’d find it was a sort of cheat code for getting into a party as a guy. 

Mina had approached him first to his surprise and although he could hardly hear what she was saying in the loud mess, she just suddenly kissed him. It was wet and messy and frankly, he felt nothing at all. No spark like he’d envisioned, no magical feeling like the books and poets described. It was like he was an observer in his own body.

You were not Mina Carolina. You had the soft lips the poets did in fact write about. For once in his life, he felt like he was where he needed to be. It wasn’t exactly gentle or sweet. Instead, hard and angry like the waves of oceans crashing upon the rocks, two seasons fighting for change. 

It’s over far too soon and you quickly sit up, lips still parted slightly. “Sorry,” you shake your head, standing up and grabbing your racket. Your voice is shaky and hoarse and he’s chasing the sound.

“Wait!” he calls out, hurrying over to you packing your stuff. The plastic water bottle you throw in taunts him. “Are you okay?”

You lift your gaze, but your eyes travel past him to the court behind you as if you could teleport away. “Look Armin, I can’t right now. I shouldn’t have done that; I’m sorry.”
“What-why?” He blinks, feeling his heart crumble in his chest. This is not how it was supposed to go. You shake your hand in reply, slinging your bag over your shoulder and scurrying off. Your ponytail waves back and forth, practically taunting him as he can’t do anything but stare. The sunset illuminates your figure and you ride off into the distance on your proverbial high horse. It’s like a western movie. 

He thinks about chasing you, but that felt pathetic. He was not a chaser. Especially when it was you that had kissed him .

He picks up his racket swinging it idly, letting the metal pass back and forth between his hands. Everything inside of him was boiling over and he doesn’t even recognize when he starts smashing it wildly into the ground. 

Surprisingly, he’d never done this before. He’d considered it childish, little boys with grown men’s strength who broke their toys when play time was over. When they lost. This wasn’t even anger, he could recognize. He was never that type of way. It was frustration, it was being so close to something and letting it slip out of your grasp. It was nervousness and insecurity and pain. It was excitement. It was winning. It was love . 

He pulls back, taking a seat on the rough surface of the court. It pokes at him through his shorts but he ignores it. His racket is in shatters, splintered at the frame and wildly disfigured. The metal is sharp enough to be a weapon and he cringes as he looks upon it. 

Good thing he had a spare racket back home. He would move on. Things are replaceable; you were not. 

Onto Step Two: Show Her That You Care

Chapter Text

We need to watch the Tybers

Whose side is Hizaru on?

Is King Fritz high?

Whose side are you on? 

You stared at the multicolored sticky notes littered across the floor of your apartment. Neon pink, blue, and yellow paper rifled through your hands as you read every message. 

It’s a tradition in Model UN to have all correspondence through hand written notes. For the unprepared students, it was paper torn off of the edge of notebooks hastily. For the amateurs, texts would suffice. But if this wasn’t your first rodeo, you brought sticky notes. 

People rarely caught onto your code. Blue for allies, pink for enemies. Yellow for neutral delegates who could be swayed either way. You’d happen to use all three for Armin throughout the course of the conference. 

The notes continued even when the two of you decided to sit next to each other and you were glad for it. Having physical evidence of this relationship meant you weren’t going crazy. 

Then again, maybe you were; you had kissed him after all. You had wished it’d be awful, painfully awkward and sparkless. The type you’d experienced with inebriated with frat boys who barely remembered your name. 

But it was good. Great, really. So great it was all you could think about. You looked crazy, grasping onto scraps of paper while sitting on the hard floor. You’d been a mess this past week. You tried not to let it influence any part of your life, but you were distracted. 

At your tennis match last week you’d been volatile. Initially your hits were timid and unsure, but at the end they were aggressive and messy. You felt out of control, alien in your own mind. This wasn’t who you were. 

You saw Armin in the crowd that day. The boys’ match was directly before and his hair was messy and dampened with sweat from his own playing. He’d done well and won his match, but he lost one of his sets which was unusual for him. He was a consistent player from what you’d formerly observed. 

His elbows had remained rested on his knees the whole time, cerulean eyes studying your every move. He looked so good in the beaming sun, sleeves rolled up to expose the full length of his lean, but strong arms. His hair was practically glowing. 

You could feel him watching you and all you could think about was that those pink lips, occasionally muttering comments to Eren next to him, had been on yours. His presence coupled with the state you were in, made you jumpy. You were so enraged when you lost the second set you nearly smashed your racket into the floor. You barely scraped a win, your last set becoming down to the last point. 

Afterwards you saw Armin run down the stands to talk to you, but you had kept walking to the girls locker room. He seemed to finally get the hint and he was gone when you came out. You weren’t even sure why you were avoiding him. Not to mention, you’d run from him as soon as your class together was over. 

It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong. It was you. You were the one that had kissed him, that had so impulsively wondered what it would be like to be with him. 

You’d never had a serious relationship before. It wasn’t even that you wanted to fuck around or were openly against it. It had just never happened. Maybe you were too focused on school and extracurriculars to even have time for that sort of thing. Maybe you had too high of expectations. Maybe there was something wrong with you. 

You were used to earning love. It was always expected of you to be great and great you were. Every trophy you brought home, A you scored, position you earned was tied to some sort of affirmation. So why shouldn’t you have to earn a boyfriend?
The older you got, the more apparent it became that you didn’t want someone to just fall into your lap. People had tried and no matter how much someone liked you, you just couldn’t get yourself to like them. The path to a relationship should be long and tortuous, withstanding many trials and tribulations of the same essence as a fantasy novel. The quality of someone’s love could only be good if it had withstood hardship, right? 

Sure, you had high standards but then again you were always attracted to people you couldn’t have. The harder they were to overcome, the better. So now that Armin was finally in your grasp, it made you nauseous. He wasn’t good enough. 

No, that wasn’t it. You weren’t.

You stared at the notes for a second longer before standing up and dusting off your pants. You needed to get it together. You needed to do something. It was a Friday and you didn’t have class anyways. 

When you go into the kitchen, Historia and Ymir are already there. They’re clearly dressed to go out and do something, keys in hand. Historia’s long blonde hair was curled to look like a princess’ and Ymir was wearing a brown long sleeve that complemented her eyes. “Hey,” you smile, giving an awkward wave. It wasn’t like they were exactly your best friends, but they were still your roommates. 

Historia returns the smile and Ymir suffices with a small nod of her head. “Where have you been?” The shorter girl asks. You hadn’t really talked to them since you left for Model UN. “Busy,” you shrug before deciding to provide more detail. If you wanted to be closer with them, you needed to put in effort, right? 

“I had a model un conference last weekend in Stohess. And then I’ve just been really swamped with tennis and classes.” You nod, looking between the two of them. 

“You look sick.” Ymir spits out of nowhere and it makes Historia shove her. “Ymir!” She chastises and it makes your face heat up. Did you really look that pathetic? 

“No, I'm serious. Ymir shakes her off gently. “Are you?” You blink, shaking your head. Suddenly the bags underneath of your eyes felt more apparent than ever, “uh no. I’ve just had a lot of… personal things.”

Historia nods slowly, linking her arm back through her girlfriend’s. “How about you join us today? We’re heading to the local beach town. There’s a bunch of shops, a brunch place, plus this really cute candy store!” You consider her offer. Anything her sugary sweet voice said sounded enticing. But you didn’t want to be a burden. 

You shook your head, “I don’t want to intrude…” It was probably a date anyways. Suddenly the blonde grabs you so you’re a part of their little chain. “Nonsense. We haven’t really gotten the time to know you anyways. Ymir really likes tennis, you know?”

“Really?” You look to the brunette and she just shrugs. “I played a little in high school. Along with a few other sports. That's why I’m doing sports medicine.” 

“Oh, cool.” You say lamely. You had no idea. You’d thought you’d heard that Historia was doing nursing, but you’d never asked what it was Ymir was going to school for. 

Historia begins to lead your chain through the door before you can protest and next thing you knew, you were seated in her white Mercedes. It’s even nicer than the outside and were it not for the nice things she carried and owned, with her kind personality you’d never know she was wealthy. 

She drives the three of you about twenty minutes to where the beach town was. You’d never gone before, but it was even better than you had envisioned.

Little cottages and shops lined the roads and the entire town reminded you of a simpler time. You could smell the ocean surrounding you and the slight humidity permeated your skin. There was everything from jewelry to gourmet grocery stores to frozen banana stands. 

The couple led you to their favorite brunch spot which had an incredible view of the ocean. You enjoyed perfectly circular pancakes topped with blueberry compote and a strong latte with a thick foam. Then, you walked to the aforementioned candy shop and snagged bags of saltwater taffy and sour candy that reminded you of your childhood. 

The two of them were delightful company. You talked about your old school and they regaled you with tales from their freshman year at Paradis. Apparently they had lived in the same hall as Eren and Armin. 

Ymir started to cackle as she remembered when Armin had pretended to be rushing with one of his friends. For an entire week, they had heard him come back to his room every night completely wasted. From their hall, they could hear him vomiting next to Eren who was rushing a different frat. 

When you mentioned you knew Armin, they immediately perked up. Not to your surprise, they both had raving reviews of him. Apparently he would help the custodial staff clean up after some messy residents and host study sessions for the entire hall. 

It’s not shocking to hear, but all you can think about is that he’s finally in your grasp and it scares you. There was this amazing boy, although not without his flaws, and you had been so close to being with him. They seemed to notice your reactions and a knowing smile appeared on their faces. 

“Someone’s got a crush,” Ymir grinned wolfishly, nudging you across one of the giant candy barrels. Like before, Historia shoved her, to which she simply swung an arm around her petite shoulders. “Cmon, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Uh, it’s complicated.” You muttered. “It’s never complicated.” She scoffed. “If anything, I think you and that little dweeb would be perfect together, no offense. You match each other. You seem super accomplished and from what I know about the guy, he’s into that.”

“It’s not just that.” You sigh, looking around the empty shop hoping you didn’t sound as embarrassing as you thought. “I kissed him the other day. We have this weird love-hate relationship and we’re always competing. To me he’s always been kind of untouchable, you know? Like I could push his buttons and think he’s attractive and nothing would come of it. I mean, I hated him.”

“But…” Historia says with a small smile.

“But… I grew to like him. Like he drives me crazy, but in a good way. So I kissed him in the heat of this match we were having and now I’m freaked out. It’s like I don’t want him anymore. I have him and it was too easy. There’s gotta be something wrong with him, right?”

You look up from where your eyes had fallen on the pink swirls of taffy and they look absolutely bewildered. “No wonder you're single.” Ymir laughs and Historia doesn’t even elbow her. She just sighs. 

“I’ve only taken a few psych courses so don’t take this too seriously, but have you ever considered that you’re the problem?” You blink, suddenly feeling your pancakes rise up. 

“Not in the sense that you’re not perfect. You’re great, really. Any guy would be lucky to have you. But that’s exactly it. You don’t think anyone could ever like you as much as you like them. So… if they’re into someone as lowly as you, there’s gotta be something wrong with them.”

You stare at her, trying to form words but it feels impossible. Her sweet voice somehow makes the words sting even more. Your eyes return to the taffy. “Oh.”

She comes around the barrel to wrap an arm around you. “No no no, that wasn’t meant to hurt you. What I’m trying to say is that you deserve someone who’s as amazing as you. I don’t know him super well, but Armin could be that guy. Obviously everyone has their flaws, but he is a good guy. Maybe try to see this through?”

You finally look up at Ymir who’s usually harsh and guarded brown eyes are soft. “Historia’s right. You’re cool, really. And he’s a good kid. You think I deserve someone as good as her?” She nods her head to the blonde. “But in order to let myself be with the girl I loved, I had to get through whatever was telling me I didn’t.” 

You nod your head and a breath of relief escapes you. It doesn’t magically fix whatever is inside of you. You’re still scared to see him, scared for him to see you. But after so long of being single, you want to let yourself be happy. You want to let yourself be loved. 

“Okay,” you finally nod. Historia’s arms wrap tighter around you and you let yourself be held for a second. It’s nice to talk to people instead of keeping everything bottled up. 

You finally leave the store and the poor employee who was forced to listen to your crisis, munching on your candy on the way back. Overall, it was a great day. As always, Historia was an angel and at the end of the day, you realized Ymir’s harshness was not without a deep-routed kindness.They balanced each other out perfectly and for the first time since you’d moved in, you understood the two of them. They balanced out each other’s best traits and flaws. 

You wondered if that would be the case with Armin. If your character and imperfections were too similar for that to happen. Would they just combine into a maelstrom of insecurity and desire for validation? Or would your shared understanding allow you to find the one place where you didn’t need to earn someone’s love?

On the way back you notice Historia turning into the parking lot of what looks like an elementary school. You spot a cute little playset around the back with a few kids going down the slide. 

“Why are we at a school?” You ask, peering out the window. Historia parked and turned around to face you. “Oh I volunteer in the nurse’s office. Sorry, I just left my ipad here yesterday. Do you mind if I go in and pick it up? I’ll be quick I promise!” 

You nod, “yeah yeah, no problem. Take your time.” She climbs out of the car and pauses seeing you and Ymir left together. Despite your newfound fondness for the girl you weren’t sure if you wanted to awkwardly wait with her and she seemed to sense that. “Why don’t you take a look around? Ymir’s seen it before, but it’s really cute! They have this little coding lab and I swear these kids are geniuses.”

You looked at Ymir who was on her phone and shrugged, climbing out of the car. “Sure, why not?”

You follow her into the school and it’s quaint. The entrance has a small front desk where she checks the two of you in before heading down the hallway on the left. “If you go right and keep going straight, you’ll see the lab. You can’t miss it!” She calls back to you before disappearing around a corner.

You follow her directions, scanning the walls for the lab. She was right when she said you couldn’t miss it. While the rest of the doors are a uniform white color, the computer lab is a bright blue. Its title is spelled onto a light up sign and it seems to be the newest part of the whole school. 

You try the door and fortunately it’s unlocked. You hear the chattering voices of the kids before you can see them and awkwardly poke your head as to not disturb the class. There’s only a few of them, but they’re completely engaged by the screens. You don’t see a teacher anywhere which feels strange given this equipment is worth a substantial amount of money. 

“Excuse me?” A voice calls from behind you and it makes you jump a little. “I’m so sorry I was just taking a look-” you turn your head and suddenly want to run back to Ymir in the car. 

“Oh, Armin. Hey.” You blink, inching your back into the wall. You let the door close with a thud and suddenly it’s just the two of you in the alcove. 

He furrows his eyebrows and looks around the hall, like he’s on some sort of hidden camera show and this is an elaborate prank. “What are you doing here? Did you want to talk or something?” His voice sounds hopeful.

“Uh I’m actually here for Historia. She works in the nurses’ office or volunteers or something?” You ramble. “She just told me I could check out the computer lab, not that you were here or anything. Which isn’t a problem! I just mean that I’m here to see computers, not uh you.”

“Oh.” Disappointment seems to fall onto his face and you fight the urge to slap your palm into your forehead. Why were you acting like this? This is why you hated liking someone. It made you weird and nervous. It was so much easier to argue.

“You know Historia?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets. He’s dressed like a teacher, with khakis and a black polo shirt. You nod, thankful for the easy topic. “Yeah, she’s my roommate.”

“Oh really? That’s cool. She’s sweet.”

“Yeah. Her and Ymir.” You nod. This causes him to laugh a little. “You think Ymir is sweet?” You shake your head and you laugh a little in response, but it's stiff. “No, I mean she’s also my roommate. Kind of got stuck with the last housing option when I got here. Not that they’re bad or anything, but you know, um…” you clear your throat. “Couple stuff.”

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say because he clears his throat and looks down, flushing slightly. Augh how did you manage to bring up sex of all things? “What are you doing here?” You change the subject.
“Oh I volunteer here. Sort of like a teacher.” Oh right, you’d remembered him bragging about it at your first Model UN meeting. He seemed so humble about it now. 

“Right. Help them code right?” He nods, seemingly surprised you’d remembered. “Yeah. A lot of their families work so they can’t pick them up from school right away. Seems like a better use of their time to learn a skill rather than just sit around.” He shrugs. 

“That’s really cool.” A smile forms naturally on your face. “How’d you even get started doing this?”

“My grandpa basically raised me, but he always had to stay late at work when I was done with school. I used to hang out with my science teacher and he’d teach me all sorts of facts about computers and the ocean and a bunch of other cool stuff. Thought I could do the same thing for these kids.” He shrugs again and it’s just about the cutest thing you’d ever seen. He was so unlike himself right now and yet totally Armin. It was confusing. While you were actively fighting the urge to leave and make up some excuse, you considered the advice you’d received today. 

“Do you mind if I take a look inside?” You nodded your head to the blue door. He smiled warmly, pushing it open. “Yeah of course. It’s probably not a good idea for them to be alone for this long anyways. This stuff is expensive.” 

Now that you’re inside, you can see everything a lot more clearly. Armin walks up the front and he gestures for you to follow him. “Can I get everyone’s attention please?”

Tiny eyes snap up to you as the room falls silent and you feel so old right now. The youngest has to be barely 8 and the oldest seems 12.

“This is my friend,” he says your name. “She’s also an expert at computers so feel free to ask her for some help today. Keep up the good work.” He smiles and the chatter resumes. 

“Wow,” you laugh, looking back at him. He even had a little id badge you hadn’t noticed before. “Teacher Armin.”

“Teacher Armin.” He nudges your side but freezes immediately after. Like he’s scared to so much as breathe on you after the incident. You try to relax yourself, but you’re so scared right now. Scared of what he thinks about you, of what he knows about you. That you were a coward, someone that ran away when they kissed someone. Someone that then ignored that person and looked repulsed every time they came near. Could he even stand you?

To ease the tension, you walk to the computer screen of a boy with sandy blonde hair typing furiously. “What are you working on?” You ask, crouching down to view the monitor. It’s lit up with dinosaurs walking back and forth across the screen. 

“Playing my video game.” He says, keeping his attention on the screen. He says it so casually. “You made this?” Your eyes scan the graphics with awe. It wasn’t exactly something by Sony, but it was more than impressive for someone of his age. Hell, you weren’t even doing that then. 

“Yup. Mr. Armin helped me though.” His head finally turns to look at you and his blue eyes seem to widen in recognition. “You’re the girl!”

“Sorry?” He doesn’t answer and instead turns to whisper in the ear of a brunette girl next to him. Her amber eyes widen almost comically large and she looks at you too. Did they think you were ugly or something? Kids always loved telling people that.

“The girl!” She repeats. “Do I know you two or something?” You scan their faces but they aren’t familiar in the slightest.

“No, but we know you.” Says the boy and it almost creeps you out. “I’m Falco and that’s Gabi. She’s my girlfriend!”

“Oh!” Your eyes dart between the two of them. What were they, ten? Crazy that a child had a more secure love life than you. 

“Mr. Armin’s told us about you. We’ve seen your instagram!” 

“I-what?” Was this a really weird dream or something? 

“He’s got a crush on you. But don’t tell him we told you that.” Gabi shook her head before pretending to zip up her lips and throw away the key. 

“Gabi’s right. But he’s a good man, miss. Give the boy a chance.” You try to stifle a laugh now, still utterly perplexed. Miss? Good man? If you heard someone call Armin a good guy one more time today…

“Alright, thanks Falco and Gabi.” You stand up, taking one last look at the dinosaurs. What was your life? And yet you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Kids didn’t lie. Sure things may have changed since you freaked out on him, but at one point in time he admitted to having a crush on you! You tried to remind yourself that you did deserve this. That maybe things would work out and you’d finally accept what was in front of you. 

Your eyes find Armin on the other side of the room. He’s bent down and helping some boy with black hair and glasses. “Hey,” you sidle over to him and he stands back up to his full height again. All of the tiny chairs and children surrounding you make him seem even taller than usual. “Hey, how is it?” 

“It’s really neat. I saw Falco’s game and it was incredible. You should be proud.” You see earnestly and he flushes. “They’re really smart-”
“No, I mean it. This is all you.” He smiles and you feel yourself melt. He really was everything you could ever want. But in order to stop yourself from becoming a puddle on the multicolored carpet, you clear your throat. 

“Cmon, what happened to egotistical, unbearable Armin? Does it not fit the teacher persona?” You tease, breaking the touch barrier again by brushing his arm. 

He shrugs again with a breathy laugh, shaking his head, “Sorry, I’ve just been really off this week.”

“Yeah me too,” you say honestly. You look around to make sure the kids aren’t listening before lowering your voice. “I’m sorry. For just leaving you out there and then ignoring you at the match and then in class. That wasn’t okay of me.”

He shrugged again and you couldn’t help but grab his shoulders. “Please stop shrugging.” He blinks, letting his shoulder relax. “Yeah okay, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. You hated how much he didn’t feel like himself. Maybe that’s what he thought of you right now.

He sighs and quickly darts over to Falco, whispering something in his ear. On his way back you hear Falco yell, “have fun with your girlfriend!” The tips of his ears turn bright red and he sets a gentle hand on the small of your back, leading you quickly outside. 

You try to hide the smile growing on your face. “Kids, am I right?” You giggle and he leads you back out to the hallway. “I was just making sure someone was in charge. That stuff’s expensive, you know.” 

“Right.” You knew. You nod and settle yourself against the wall. He stands with his hands in his pockets and starts to pace in front of you. It makes you nervous but you try not to mimic his actions. Suddenly he comes to a halt and looks at you, like really looks at you. 

He speaks suddenly. “I am a self-sabotaging idiot. I can be a total dick and for reasons only known to my therapist and maybe the deep pits of my psyche, I think I pushed you away.” 

You didn’t expect him to say that. 

“So I get it, I do. I’m confusing. But I’m confused too. Why’d you kiss me? And why’d you stop ?” He comes closer to you and you can tell he’s searching for something in your eyes and you don’t know what. You want to give it to him though. 

You feel your shoulders rise and he grabs them gently, settling them down. “Please don’t shrug.” He shoves your own words back at you.

Your mouth feels dry and suddenly all your previous confidence had vanished. That familiar terror crept into you and he was so close, both physically and metaphorically. You try to take a breath and calm the tremor you feel in your vocal cords. 

“I’m a self-sabotaging idiot too.” You settle for. “I have issues, clearly. And I talked to Historia and Ymir today about it and looking back, she probably brought me here for a reason.” You both mentally cursed and praised your blonde friend who was conveniently nowhere in site.

“I think that sometimes, I have to earn people’s love. Not that you love me or anything,” you shook your head in embarrassment. “But even just like, validation. And worthiness and praise and all that. And if things are easy, then I don’t deserve them. Then they weren’t worth it.”
“Nothing about you is easy, Armin. I love it when we fight cause it means I’m nowhere close to being with you. And now that we’re not constantly at each other’s throats, I feel like I need to run away.”

“So what am I to you?” He gets closer, grabbing your hands which have fallen by your sides. He cradles them with the utmost respect like they’re worth something. “Am I not worth it?” Hurt is lacing his voice and it's unbearable. 

You shake your head, staring at the pile of hands. “No no, I just…” you sigh, feeling yourself trembling. “I’m scared. The second someone likes me back I get scared and grossed out. But I like you too much to not get past this.” You met his eyes again, begging him to understand. 

Your thoughts echoed back to earlier. 

Were your character and imperfections too similar? Would they indeed combine into a maelstrom of insecurity and desire for validation? Or would your shared understanding allow you to find the one place where you didn’t need to earn someone’s love?

Looking at him now, swimming in his ocean blue eyes, you think for the first time that someone actually understands you. He’s quiet for a second before sighing. 

“I thought I was pushing you away,” he lets out a soft laugh and it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. “You scare me too. It’s… hard for me to believe people like me for who I am. You kind of hit the nail in the coffin back at the conference.”

“You’re kind of my dream girl. I thought that I had to test you, you know? Make sure you saw everything awful about me so you’d run away.”

“I did.” You mutter and he doesn’t respond. He looks like he’s thinking really hard about something, biting his cheek and studying the floor. 

“So we’re both fucked?” You fill the silence, echoing his laughter. He shakes his head, swinging your conjoined hands back and forth idly. “No no, we’re not fucked. We’re just… figuring it out. And we’re always good at that.”
“Yeah, we’re super smart aren’t we?” You feel warmth blossom in your chest, looking at him with adoration. 

“Well I am but-” and it causes you to gently shove him. He catches your arms though and uses them to pull you to his chest. He bends his head down to press his lips to yours ever so softly in complete contrast to when you’d kissed him. Unlike two seasons fighting for change, it’s a soft summer, the breeze softly brushing through your hair. It’s perfect. 

He finally pulls away, resting his head against your own. Despite the short duration of the kiss, his breath comes in soft spurts of air. He cups your face, smoothing back the stray hairs that fall onto your face. 

“We should probably get inside. Kids, am I right?” You feel your face heat, acutely aware of the fact that you were in an elementary school. Historia could come back at any moment, although you were sure she wouldn’t object to the romance. 

“Right. I should go; Historia and Ymir are waiting for me.” You pull away hesitantly, dropping your hands from their place on his arms. He nods and leans against the wall, letting his head fall back. You loved seeing how much your chaste kiss seemed to have affected him. 

You turn to walk back down the hallway, but his voice makes you pause. “Are you free tomorrow night?” You turn around with an excited smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule,” you tease although you probably did need to. You were so busy these days. 

“Well if you manage to find the time, I might be willing to take you out.” He reaches for the door, but keeps his eyes on you. “Might?” 

“Have your people call my people.” He winks before sliding inside. Now that was the Armin you knew. The second he leaves you can’t help but let out a small squeal of delight, jumping up and down for good measure. It felt so girlish and totally out of character, but maybe you deserved to act this way once or twice. After all, you had a date. 

You find Historia and Ymir both sitting inside the car when you get outside. It turns out their parking spot had a perfect view of your interaction with Armin and if you weren’t so happy, you’d be mortified.

When you get back to your apartment, you get a text from an unknown number. 

I think I have to quit it reads, attached to a video. You open it and it reveals the classroom you were just in and dozens of kids chanting.

“Y/n and Armin sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

The camera zooms in on Falco and Gabi leading the chorus and you collapse onto your bed in laughter. There wasn’t a window or anything that saw into the hallway, but the kids must have assumed it anyway. You quickly save Armin’s number, smiling to yourself and letting the video play on repeat.

Y/n and Armin sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Chapter Text

Y/n and Armin sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Armin watches the video one last time. It had lost its initial embarrassment and now it was one of his favorite things. If things worked out between the two of you, this would play at the wedding. 

Not that he was already thinking that far! I mean that was insane, even for him. He had a tendency to romanticize things an unhealthy amount so he knew he needed to reign it back in. 

Armin sends out another text on Saturday morning with a bated breath.

A simple hey 

You respond almost instantly and Eren, who’s sitting beside him on the couch, gives him a nod of approval.

Hey Teacher Armin

He grins. Eren looks confused but he doesn’t explain. He liked having inside jokes with you. 

so did you find any plans for tonight?

You take a second longer to respond this time and it has him on the edge of his seat. You were joking when you said you’d check… right?

unfortunately not. I’m all yours :/

He feels his stomach flip. He already had a vague idea of what to do tonight, but now he had to get a perfect plan formed.

loving the excitement!

“Dude she’s totally flirting with you.” Eren grins and Armin rolls his eyes a little bit, although he can feel the tips of his ears turning red. Obviously you were flirting. You had literally kissed yesterday. But everything about you had him feeling like some sweaty teenager all over again. 

Speaking of, he pulls out his phone again, settling on a plan. He had found out from Mikasa that you’d never had a serious relationship before. In a way, he somehow seemed to have slightly more experience at this whole thing than you. It was shocking to think that no guy have ever once tried to make you his, but he remembered what you had said in the hallway. 

You had to earn people’s love.
He understands it completely. You were two sides of the same coin, even boiled down to your fears and insecurities. He supposed he’d always had Mikasa and Eren to thank for pushing him into small relationships. Still, he doesn’t think he’s ever really loved before either. Well, until now.

He wanted to give you the youthful teenage date you’d missed out on in high school and at your old university. Despite how silly it may have seemed, everyone deserves the opportunity for the simple delights of trips to the fair, awkward bowling double dates, and wondering if they were going to kiss you at the end. With both of you known for overcomplicating everything, perhaps something simple was the way to go. 

I’ll pick you up at 8?

You agreed and texted him your address.

He spent the rest of the day picking out the perfect outfit with Eren, practicing how he’d ring your doorbell, buying flowers. At his core, Armin was a hopeless romantic and he wanted this to be everything you’d once dreamed it’d be. 

At 7:30, he was already at your apartment and he spent the next 25 minutes nervously checking his hair in his car mirror and stalking your Linkedin and Maxpreps. Well, it wasn’t really stalking, was it? This was public knowledge. And there was something about seeing how accomplished you were that really got him going. Not to be weird or anything… 

At 7:55 he rings your doorbell, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels. He’d settled on a simple navy button down and some off white pants. Perhaps it was too nice for where he was taking you, but he wanted to make sure you felt special. 

You answer and the site is something to behold. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen you dressed up before. It was just that he’d never seen you dressed up for him.  

You wore a navy sundress he hadn’t recognized and a loose white cardigan on top of it. On your feet were some mary janes that made you a little taller than usual. It was the cutest thing.

“Hey,” he breathed, already feeling himself turning red. “Hi.” You smiled, looking him over. “We’re kind of matching,” you remarked, laughing softly. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the whole night without just completely melting. 

He still couldn’t believe the two of you were on date. Like an actual date. It was unreal. He would have never expected to end up here and yet, it made perfect sense. Everything about you felt right. He just had to finish convincing himself that this wasn’t all just a dream. 

“Who’s changing?” He says, forcing out a nervous laugh. You don’t seem to pick it up and close the door behind you. “Definitely not me.”

He grins and opens your car door and hops into the driver seat. For how good his date looked, he felt like his shitty prius didn’t hold up to the occasion, but you didn’t seem to mind. They were very environmentally conscious after all and you did drive a camry.

He turns on a playlist Eren made back in high school simply titled: girl. It was supposed to be a generic thing for every time he was driving with a girl. In reality, the only girl he was ever really interested in was Mikasa. He thought he was so nonchalant about it, adding songs he thought women liked. In reality, she’d been stealing his phone and adding her own songs the entire time.  

Armin doesn’t know why he’s using it too. Maybe it was good luck. Plus, he didn’t really know your music taste at all. He had no idea who your favorite artist was or how many concerts you’d been to. If you blasted punk rock so loud it went through the walls. If you liked those small indie artists who were “underground.” If you even liked music at all. 

But he wanted to. He found himself wanting to know everything about you. Your perfect song, your favorite color. The favorite cafe you were a regular at and the best beach you’d found in your short time here. 

“I like this song,” you mutter, turning up the radio. He tried to take a mental note of it, the exact chords that pleased your ears. 

“This is your music taste?” You asked in surprise. He felt himself blush slightly and he cleared his throat. “It’s… a friend’s playlist.”

“Mikasa’s?” Oh he was bright red now. 

“Um,”

You started to giggle, the sound complimenting the soft melody in the background. “Mikasa is the one who introduced me to a lot of these songs. I knew you were a poser.” You shook your head and he felt himself smiling. 

“So what else do you like then?”

The rest of the car ride you talked about your music taste and interests. How your favorite ones came from movie soundtracks and how his did too. He learned you briefly played the violin as a kid. He shared he played the piano.

It was the embodiment of first date talk and yet it was like you already knew each other perfectly. As a whole, he thought he did his best to understand you. It was the details, the fun parts that were missing. And like one of those jigsaw puzzle’s his grandfather loved, one by one you were filling them in. 

“You know, you never told me where we were going.” You hummed, looking around the parking lot he pulled into. It was fairly dark save a giant monument of light that illuminated the entire area. It was semi crowded given it was a Saturday night and you passed families, friends, and dates alike as you made your way to the doors. You still couldn’t tell what it was; only that it was calling to you like a moth to a flame. 

“You never asked.” He shrugged and you scoffed. “I was trying not to be overbearing. I was letting you be mysterious.”

“Yeah well I don’t think either of us are very mysterious,” and it made you laugh. He loved doing that. “It’s an arcade,” he finally filled in as he opened the door for you. The brightness through the glass wasn’t even close to the interior. Flashing colors, predominantly pinks and yellows lit up the giant space. It wasn’t only one floor, but several stories of claw machines, driving simulators, pacman, and prizes. 

He’s been here plenty of times ever since he was a kid so he watched your reaction instead. It’s like a kid’s, full of wonder and excitement. The lights cast a glow on your face and make your eyes shine. It’s so pretty.

“Was there anything at all to do in Trost?” He smirks and you don’t even snap back. “Not really…” Your gaze finally returns to him. “So where do we start?”

He lets you lead him up to the third floor which is exclusively claw machines. There’s everything from oversized plushes to wads of cash and tickets. He groans at first considering he thinks that all of these machines are a major scam. You don’t share his distaste, excitedly approaching one with what looks like fuzzy seagulls.

“These are a sucker’s bet,” you say, inserting some of the large stack of quarters he brought. “But I kind of like them anyway.” And he can’t argue with that. 

You have a method to it, walking around the side to check the depth of the claw. He wants to laugh and make fun of for taking it so seriously, but it's cute. He steps forward to help you, guiding the machine back and forth as you instruct. At one point, your hands both reach for the joystick at the same time and brush. You both pull back instinctively, but in a sudden wave of courage he reaches forward and wraps his hand around your own. It slots comfortably there, like it was meant to be.

As a chain, you instruct from the side while he moves from the front. After a few tries, the fuzzy plush is graciously scooped up into the air. You shake it above your head in victory and there’s this feeling in his chest like he’s never felt before. 

You drag him to the next machine, physically this time, and you have a solid system. You instruct him from the side of the glass and he uses his own instincts to guide the joystick. The groups around you play for prizes leisurely, but for the two of you, it’s better this way. 

When asked his idea partner, he’d always wanted someone he made a good team with, an equal. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be a test of that by any means, but it was apparent that you were exactly that. 

From what he could tell, you seemed to be having a good time too. Your hands were filled with plushes of all shapes and sizes and you wore the biggest smile. There’s a certain lightness to you; one guided by the fact that you seemed to have finally accepted his love. It’s alluring, a siren’s distant call, and he can’t even fathom how you’ve stayed single for this long. The glint in your eye, the way you bite your lip in concentration. How you fiddle with your fingers when you’re thinking and rest your lips in a hidden smile, like there’s an inside joke and you’re the only one in on it. He has every single mannerism memorized and he wants to frame them next to his awards. 

His thoughts wander off and you’ve already conquered your next machine. “Armin!” You call over the loud sounds, holding up a small seashell with a face on it. It was cute. 

He walks over to her, a small smile on his face. “I think you’re running out of room.” He chuckles, helping to carry the giant pile. You laugh bashfully. “We’re just too good.”

“Indeed.” He hums. “Are you hungry?”

You nod and he suggests a small diner by the coast highway. The two of you feast on oversized burgers and strawberry milkshakes, the majority of your loot in the car, save the small seashell. It sits on the table like the third guest and you jokingly tear off a small part of your fry and place it in front of it. 

Afterwards, he drives you along the coast. You roll down your window and the wind ruffles your hair wildly, causing you to laugh. You don’t close it though. Instead you shut your eyes and breathe in the salty air. He tries his best to look over and admire you, but the roads are curved and he’s trying desperately not to crash and end this fantasy. 

You end up at a beach and he grabs a blanket from his backseat. You raise your eyebrow at him when he returns and he flushes at the implication. 

“It’s for a cat I swear!” He protests and you practically roll over laughing. “Like Miso, my cat!” 

You momentarily pause your laughing. “Wait you actually have a cat named Miso?”
His face begins to fade in color and he nods, setting the blanket on the sandy floor. He picked a spot right in the middle and close enough to watch the waves. There’s no one around for miles. “I love cats.” You say, taking a seat next to him. You're closer than he expected and his heart is pounding. 

“You should meet her.” You nod, letting your gaze go to the ocean. “I’d like that.” You're quiet for the next couple of minutes, the sole sound being the crashing of the waves. 

“Trost is landlocked, isn’t it?” He asks, noting how your attention had completely shifted to the ocean. You nod, tucking a small strand of hair behind your ear. 

“It’s mostly mountains and lakes. And boring little suburbs. It gets cold, a lot colder than this. But sometimes I miss it.” You sigh.

He nodded, “I’ve been in Shiganshina my entire life. So I haven’t ever really felt homesick. But sometimes I feel the opposite, you know? Like I should leave.” 

“You should.” You say, turning to face him. You tuck your knees to your chest and hold them tightly. “I would love to see what the world thinks of Armin Arlert.”

The statement makes his heart leap. He lets out a bashful laugh. “I’m not sure it’d be very high praise.” This makes you roll your eyes, “there are two parts of you Armin. The guy I’ve known the past couple of months and then this. Which is the real one?”
He blinks. Why was this deep all of a sudden? It’s quiet for a second as he ponders his answer. 

You could say his arrogance was a compensation of sorts, for feeling so pathetic. But then again, he was confident in himself and his abilities. There were two sides of himself and most people only saw one. You had joined the small handful that knew them all. 

“Both, I think.” You seemed hesitant to accept his answer but nodded anyway. “Well… good. I like them both.” And that’s when he kisses you. 

Armin knew he had his own issues to work through. Things still weren’t perfect on his end either. He was still terrified he’d do one thing wrong and you’d leave forever like everyone else in his life. For so long he’s both hated and loved himself, despised his weak flesh and his inability to do anything substantial. If he let the thoughts slither back in, he was fifteen and pathetic again. 

But when he sees the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, most of his fears dissipate. He holds on to every single thing that you are, good and bad, and it reminds him of his own characteristics, his flaws and good deeds. Maybe he didn’t think he was deserving of you now, but he could see himself finally believing it one day. A day in the far off future where you’d share an apartment and live like two people in love. 

He was definitely getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t imagine ever not knowing you. He wanted you to meet his grandpa, to come over for Sunday night Westerns. To come to game night with his neighbors and even to his meetings with Erwin. He wanted to sit with you on the couch with Eren and Mikasa and have you steal his phone to add to your playlist. He even wanted you to meet Miso! 

Fate was a tricky thing, but it had brought him so much. In the battle and the war, the game and the match, he had won life. Now, he just had to live it.

Chapter Text

Four Years Later

“Armin did you feed Miso!” You shout throughout your shared apartment, bending down to pet the brown fur of your beloved house pet. Miso curls her head into your palm, purring slightly and even though this is like the millionth time it’s happened, you still gush.

When you’d first met her four years ago, Armin was surprised at the cat’s gentleness and affection towards you. He said she’d never liked anyone this much right away before.

You’d assumed he’d just been saying that because you had just started dating, but as time went on, you think he was telling the truth. 

The blonde boy reenters the kitchen, glancing down at the two of you before nodding. He tilts his head. “Yeah why? Is she trying to ask for more? She knows you’re weak when it comes to her,” he scoffs, despite bending down next to you to rub her chin. 

You roll your eyes, but a soft laugh escapes you. “I’m the weak one? Last week you bought her a sweater. A sweater, Armin. For a cat. Just because you thought she looked cold.”
“Hey I saw her shivering, okay?” He lifts his gaze from the cat to you and instantly it softens. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing up. He offers you a hand and tugs you to the door. “Cmon, we’re gonna be late.” 

Begrudgingly, you give Miso one last little tap before following your boyfriend out. 

It’d been four years since you met Armin. Four years since you hated his guts, raged against him in tennis, cried in front of him at a party, and screamed at him in front of a room of fifty college students. Oh yeah, and four years since you said yes to being his girlfriend. 

It had been the best four years of your life.  

You would have never admitted it, but Armin was exactly what you needed in your life. He not only balanced your crazy competitiveness; he understood it. He understood you. He knew what it meant to crave the affection, attention, and adoration of the world and when only one person’s mattered. 

Despite everything, the two of you took it slow. You waited until graduation to move in together and then until after you both had finished your masters to really discuss your future together. It’d taken a lot of long, hard nights sitting on the bed, dreaming about life, but you’d done it. The two biggest overthinkers in the world had figured out exactly what they wanted in the future. Somewhere in that great big plan you both had, the only non-negotiable was each other. 

You pushed him to follow his dreams and he did the same for you. For the sake of your relationship (and your sanity), you’d ended up going to different companies. It was a nice dream to be able to work together, albeit not realistic. You’d tear each other apart. Plus, you both had different passions and finally ended up finding a city where your dream companies both had offices. 

Armin had followed his passion for helping kids and worked to create and code online educational systems for children. Most of them focused on helping kids gain computer literacy, but he couldn’t help himself in creating a few modules about things he liked. That included diplomacy and international relations along with the ocean.

Meanwhile you had followed your passion for tennis and athletics and worked in a start up that made wearable devices to keep track of data and health conditions. After your many asthma attacks, you were impassioned to work alongside professional and collegiate athletes with similar experiences. 

You were both happy in your jobs and made an effort to talk about the things you were excited about when you got home. You never got tired of seeing that light in his eyes, the buzzing energy that surrounded him like a ray of sunshine. 

That’s not to say the two of you didn’t still have a little fun reliving the old days. Many of your date nights consisted of arcades, mini-golf, billiards, anything that could stir some fun little competition. On the weekends, it wasn’t uncommon for you to go to sports games where the Trost and Shiganshina teams played and the loser would have to buy dinner that night. You’d even managed to convince your startup to join a local softball league with some of the local businesses. These happened to include Armin’s office along with the office Mikasa worked in as an engineer. Poor Eren was still stuck in medical school, but he’d do his best to come out and watch, studying the human body while simultaneously cheering.

Your two friends happened to also move to the same city. Eren’s dream school was only a thirty minute drive from your apartment and Mikasa was working in something with automotives. While you were all incredibly busy, you’d made time to regularly see each other in your adult lives. 

It felt sort of scary growing up, but with them, it became exciting. The older you got, the more doors were opened. You knew one day you might not always be able to live in the same city as your friends or work as close to Armin as you would have liked, but it was okay. You were following your dreams and becoming who you were always meant to be. And you were getting to do it right alongside your perfect partner. 

Your eyes glanced to your boyfriend, noticing the way his suit hung nicely off of his arms as he led you through the restaurant. It was a little fancy for your tastes, but it was Armin’s turn to pick (and buy, although he usually offered anyways). After all, the Shiganshina Scouts had lost the football game last night. 

Maybe that was why he seemed a little off today. There was nothing wrong with him per say, but he seemed nervous. You could always read him perfectly. It was like knowing your own emotions. So when he kept checking his watch, or swirled his wine a little too long, you raised an eyebrow.

“You okay?” You ask, looking around you. His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m great.” He smiles and it's wide and unnatural and it makes you laugh. You’re about to say more when his phone rings. A goofy picture of Armin and Eren when they were kids flashes on the screen. 

“I’m sorry I should take this,” he says bolting out of his chair and taking his phone with him. He’s gone for enough time that the server comes by to take your orders. Armin was the type to look at the menu before he went somewhere, so you already knew what he wanted. When he finally does come back, you look him up and down, noticing the slightly pink cheeks of embarrassment and how he’s ruffled his hair to make it a little messier. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask again. There’s of course the faint creeping of insecurity wondering why he’s acting this way, but then again, this was Armin. Your Armin. And you were you. In the face of any trouble, you got more confident, if anything. 

You take a sip of your wine, “what did Eren want?”

“Oh, nothing.” He waves his hand stiffly. “Just going through some stuff. Med school is hard.” He shrugs. You nod, not fully convinced. You might have a vague idea about what’s going on, but you try not to think about it too much. Let him have his moment. 

The rest of the dinner resumes as normal and you let the idea fade when you leave the restaurant. He was just weird sometimes, you suppose. 

He offers you his jacket on the walk back to the car. “Want to go to the arcade?” He asks as you slide into the passenger sheet. You look down at your long dress and tall heels, cocking your head. “Uh, I’m not sure if I’m dressed for the occasion,” you laugh. 

He just shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “So?” You laugh again. Uptight, dressed to the nines Armin, wanted to go run around the arcade wearing that?

“Sure,” you concede, curious about his plans. He offers you a warm smile, hand squeezing your knee before he backs out of the spot. 

When you arrive, it’s your first instinct to go to your usual spot, this tennis game the two of you usually aced. Instead, he gently loops his arm around yours and veers to the claw machines. 

These are a sucker’s bet, you remember saying to him on your first date. But I kind of like them anyway. 

You stop in front of a glowing box playing some faintly recognizable tune. It’s your standard claw 

machine except there’s only one capsule in it and it’s opaque so you can’t even see what’s inside. You stare at the blue plastic shell and turn to face him. “ That’s the one you want?”

He has the hint of a smile playing on his lips and that look when he’s won something, although you’re not really sure what. He shrugs with his hands in his pockets for what seems like the millionth time tonight. “Well it must be good if everything else is gone.”

“Fair enough.” you mutter, grabbing a token from his outstretched hand and focusing in on the glass. You like to think you’re fairly good at everything you touch, but claw machines were more times than not attributed to luck. You use the red joy stick to line the claw up perfectly, before letting it glide down. 

You grin when it latches on to the capsule and sigh in relief when it doesn’t drop on the way to the end zone. You reach through the silver door and open it up curiously, mouth going dry when you see what’s inside. 

It’s a ring and not just a ring, but a wedding ring. A thin metal band envelopes a large oval diamond with smaller diamonds fanning out in a v like shape. It’s radiant, even in the neon lighting of the arcade and a shaky hand comes up to cover your parted lips. 

You lift your eyes to see that Armin’s in front of you on one knee. There’s so many emotions swirling in those eyes you love so much and even though you had a small feeling about tonight, nothing could have prepared you for this. 

He speaks your name softly, “I’m realizing I kind of look stupid down on one knee like this, considering there’s nothing in my hands and you’re the one holding the ring,” you can’t help but let out a soft, shaky laugh. “But I wanted you to be the one who won it. I wanted you to be the one who has the decision.”

“Years ago, before I began to appreciate everything that is you, I talked with this kid I volunteered with, Falco. I was whining about some way in which you had bested me and he told me about this girl he liked. That despite the fact that they were always competing, he liked it cause it made him better.” He takes a deep breath. 

“ You , you make me better. You know everything about me, good and bad, and you cherish it. You make me want to be everything just so that I can go home and tell you all about it. I’ve always found it hard to accept love, to think that people want me for me. But you don’t make me feel ashamed about who I am. You make me feel everything .” You think you’re sobbing at this point, but you don’t even bother to wipe your eyes because you don’t ever want to look away right now.
“Don’t think of this as me presenting anything new. You have the ring. You’ve already won my heart. You already have all that I am. This is just my official way of asking. So it’s up to you to accept it. Will you marry me?”

It barely takes you a second to say yes and even less time for you to pull him up and kiss him. He slides the ring onto your hand and everything is right. 

There were four things Armin Alert loved in his life: his family, his cat Miso, winning, and you, always you.