Chapter Text
The sun peeked through the window, offering its warmth as the cool of autumn fought against it. You could feel the chill creeping in as the door of Zoe’s continued to propel open, bringing in both business and the breeze. You tug on the neck of your black hoodie, attempting to contain your body heat, and you bundle your hands in the pocket.
The swarm of university students trying to get their daily fix of caffeine crowd the tiny coffee shop. You quicken your pace to secure your spot in line, racing to the front before someone else retrieves it. After all, you are just as much a part of the cult of crazed caffeine demons as the rest of those who spare their cash here.
You remove your Airpods from your jean pocket, the clear case adorned with stickers from your favourite forms of media. You open the top to retrieve your Airpods within. You remove one and stick it in your ear, the sound of the music crackling alive.
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You become submerged in the atmosphere. The aroma of freshly baked pastries, the scent of espresso, and breakfast foods engulf your nostrils. You stick your headphones and hands back into your pockets to accompany one another.
The light from the menu floods your eyes, retinas consuming the display. “Fan Favourites,” “Specials,” “Hange’s Creations,” are titles plastered over the flamboyant background that decorates the screens.
The line moves forwards, and you rock back on your heels in wait, staring down at your shoes. Minutes later, you hear the man in front of you complete his order.
“Yeah, that’ll be all. Thanks.”
“No worries, we’ll have it out shortly.” the cashier replied.
The man makes his way over towards the seating area, tables scattered around with windows giving view to the rest of campus. You could see the students walking around, rushing to wherever they must be. You can see the greenery grow brighter as the sun lands on the reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves.
You return your attention back to where you’re standing, taking a few steps forward to make it to the order station. You look up and see the man who is meant to take your order. With his head turned, you could see his ashy brown hair groomed into a mullet. You heard a snippet of what he was telling his co-worker; he was informing him of the order he had just taken. He swings his head back, eyes landing on you. His eyes widen and he opens his mouth in greeting.
“Oh shit, hey Y/N. My bad, didn’t see you.”
You smile, as this is one of your best friends.
“Hey Kirstein. It’s alright, I didn’t see you either.” You couldn’t help it; two seconds into the conversation and sarcasm was already slithering its way in.
In your defense, it was the only coping mechanism you managed to pick up and actually implement after he died.
The irony in your joke was that it was impossible to not see Jean, with his 6’2 stature and imposingly muscular build.
“Hilarious. Peak comedy,” shooting back his own quips.
“High praise, appreciate it.” you reply.
“Shut the fuck up.” he gruffed, already tired of you, for he lacked severely in the patience department. “What’d you want?” he asks, returning to his customer service responsibilities.
“The usual, and don’t even fucking try scamming me by putting extra ice” you grumbled as you gave him your daily order; an iced vanilla latte with exactly 3 shots of vanilla; no more, no less. Your habitual drinking of the beverage allowed you to sense if there had been an error. Not that you’d ever say anything back to the barista, anyway. They have enough on their plate, and you wasting their time over one less shot of vanilla was pointless.
Unless it was Jean, of course. You’d never pass up an opportunity to piss him off.
“Dear Lord, I won’t. I never do, ‘cause you’re always bitching about it.” he barked. You could feel his agitation radiating, and you fought to suppress a smile.
“Okay, okay, sorry Kirstein.” you exasperate on the “uh” in “sorry,” just enough to make it so you haven’t fully retreated. Jean shoots you a dirty look, but inputs your order, inserting his employee discount. A while back, you two had made a pact to give each other your discount at your respective workplaces.
“It’s coming; give me 5.”
As he circles back to make your drink, you remember the reason, besides getting caffeine in your system, that you were here. You had plans to meet up with your friends at the cafe, as it was one of the group’s favourite hang-out spaces and everyone wanted to meet up before the stress of school grabbed everyone in its devilish clutches.
You wait for Jean to come back to remind him as well. True to his word, he comes back in 5 minutes with your beverage. The ice rattles and clunks together as he places the cup in your hand.
You take the drink and take the chance to ask him.
“You gonna join us when you’re on break?”
“Maybe, we’ll see. It might get busy.” he replies.
“Just say you don’t want to be around us, it’s not that hard” the tease falling off your tongue.
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to be around you.” He scowls at you but you can still see the amusement glistening in his eyes. You find your lips curl upwards, just slightly. To outsiders, it honestly seemed as if you couldn’t stand each other, but you and Jean found the banter humourous. You both possessed the ability to get on people’s nerves, and with each other, you used it to full capacity.
At least you did. With him, you purposefully amped it up. Jean, however, was more of a poser. Brash and extremely quick to snap, yes, but it was mostly a facade that could easily be discovered if you paid enough attention. As much as he tries, he can’t hide who he truly is; a soft, kind, sensitive, yearner. Once he sets his sights on someone, he pines after them with everything he has—his heart unguarded, vulnerable, ready to give them the world.
If only you could be so carefree, and give your heart out with such ease.
But you can’t. Ever again.
Letting out a breath, you turn around to procure a seat when you hear a familiar voice echoing the establishment, jingling the cute Sanrio-themed doorbell—one of many themed embellishments that could be found around the store.
“Y/N!” a deep, yet boyish voice calling your name. You turned despite already knowing the voice as it rang with familiarity.
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The guy’s eyes met yours. No matter how many times you see him, his eyes never fail to enamour you, as hues swim around in them—green, blue, brown, you’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly one colour. His brunette hair, pulled into his signature man-bun, looked both disheveled and elegant. It wasn’t as if he had sat there perfecting the messiness, but more so that it just happened to seamlessly sit that way. The squeak of his Jordans along the tile of the floor distracted you for a moment before you noticed someone emerging from behind him.
A slightly shorter, swole woman with chin-length hair appeared. Her eyes shone over yours as well, the grey the same as the stirring storms she so dearly loves. Though she was wearing a fitted turtleneck sweater, you could still see the outline of her biceps poking out. You trail your eyes down to see the light blue wide-legged jeans she had paired with it with her Doc’s slightly peeking beneath her pants.
You raise your free hand to both wave at them in greeting and to wave them over to the circular booth you spotted.
Setting your drink down, you see the two now standing in front of you.
The girl places her belongings on the table and immediately wraps you in for a hug. Her perfume, Chanel No. 5 wafts into your nose, and you gladly breathe in the heavenly scent.
You lightly rock side to side whilst embracing. “Hey Mikasa, been a while.” you mumble into her shoulder, secretly never wanting to let go.
Her hugs meant the universe to you as Mikasa was rare to show physical affection, but she would always make the motions to do so with you. It was one of the only acts that you accepted without fabricating an excuse as to why someone would choose to show affection towards you.
“I missed you, Y/N. It’s so good to see you.” she said serenely.
You feel her pulling away, so you reluctantly do so as well. Your gaze travels down to her neck, and you see the ruby spider necklace she’s wearing.
“Your necklace, Mikasa, you’re still wearing it!”
“Yeah, I plan to keep it as tradition.”
“Never stop, it’s what makes you, you,” you exclaim.
She smiles sheepishly, grinning at your compliment. “Thank you, Y/N.”
Last semester, when you two had first met, you had learned the backstory behind it. In high school, Mikasa had been goth—chokers, fishnets, makeup, the whole shebang. She had grown out of the style before she came to university, however, she still wanted to honour her childhood self. Therefore, she still wore gothic jewelry or pieces that resembled it. You were all for this choice, as it made Mikasa her own person. It’s what made her unique.
Suddenly, you hear a cough; someone clearing their throat.
“Forget about me?” the man said.
Looking past Mikasa, you stare into his electric eyes once again.
“Can you blame me? You’re not very memorable, Eren.” you say.
He heaves a sigh, which is enough of a signal to you that you should push harder with your antics.
“I mean, compared to say… Jean, you don’t even compare. ” you edge him more, trying to evoke the response you know he’s dying to give.
The two you consider your closest male friends happen to be each other's closest frenemies. They’re constantly at each other's throats, and you couldn’t resist egging their rivalry on.
“Fuck off, Y/N. You know damn well.” he spits out.
There it is, his hallmark line, you think . Eren’s competitive nature means that whenever someone dismisses him, it’s imperative to him that he counters, albeit weakly, to prove otherwise. It’s probably something you should give up doing, but it brings you too much joy to cease.
“Damn, relax. I’m kidding.” you finally relent and he rolls his eyes.
“In all seriousness–” you start.
“Which you never are” he cuts you off.
“Shut up. I was trying to say that in all seriousness, it’s good to see you too, Eren.” you said dryly, attempting to mask your delight to see him.
You step closer to him and he opens his arm before you get there, and pulls you in for a side hug.
You and Eren constantly fight like cats and dogs, but make up like the two household pets who’ve grown accustomed to one another. You’d drop dead before admitting it out loud, but you really do love Eren. He was the first friend you’d made at the University of Shiganshina, and you’ll forever cherish him like a brother. Bicker with him like he’s your brother, too.
His woody, musky cologne enters your nose as you squeeze him gently before letting go and feel grateful that he is one of the few athletes out there that somehow never reek of sweat.
You take a step and sit down in the booth before sliding all the way down and waving your hand to indicate for Eren and Mikasa to join you.
You pick up your drink and do a quick mental analysis of it. Good, Jean didn’t fuck up. Exactly 3.
“Oh, you ordered something already?” Mikasa noticed.
“Yeah, needed my fix. If you both want, you can go get something now too. Jean’s working right now, by the way.” you notify them.
“Are you sure, we can wait till everyone gets here?” Mikasa asks.
“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t mind waiting here. Go get something.”
“If you say so. We’ll be back.”
They walk away and you turn your attention to your phone, alternating between scrolling through the same four apps and taking sips from your latte, when you hear voices approach you.
You see three people walking in your direction; one female, two males. There are two girls trailing behind them, amidst what seems like a meaningful conversation.
The grey haired— well, you couldn’t really say “haired.” The boy had on a beanie that covered what you knew to be his lack of locks, even if he said otherwise.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” he flirted, though you made no mention of it. You were used to his flirtatious nature and comments he made by now.
“Good to see you, too.” you say back. Taking note of the people standing next to him, you acknowledge them as well. “And hello to you too, Sasha and Marco.”
Sasha’s auburn ponytail bounced as she came jumping to hug you. “Y/N! I missed you so much! It’s been way too long! I thought I’d die without you!”
“Sasha, it was only a holiday break. You managed to survive two weeks without me.” you comment.
Like she actually appreciates my presence that much. Nobody can possibly care about me that much.
A timid voice spoke before she could counter. “It’s not a lie, Y/N, she’d been so jittery the entire car ride and kept talking about seeing you again.”
Oh . Your widened eyes probably displayed the shock you felt as Marco went on.
“She’s not the only one. Connie, Ymir, Historia, and I were looking forward to seeing you too.” he said, smiling at you.
Oh.
You didn’t know how to properly appreciate their appreciation of you, so you just nodded politely at him.
“That statement is worth gold , Y/N. I hate everyone. I just happen to hate you a little less.” the brown haired, freckled girl voiced, using your statements against you.
Grateful for the mood changing playful, you swiftly take the opening to switch the subject.
“Really, Ymir? Even Historia?” you muse, pretending to genuinely be in wonder.
Ymir arched her eyebrow in warning, and you smile cheekily at her.
“You know I don’t play about my girl, Y/N. Besides, it’s not like you’re any different. You’re not exactly known for being cheery.” she stares as she wraps her arm around her girlfriend who was occupied with something on her phone.
I used to be.
“Touché.” was all you muttered out. You couldn’t really be mad, though, because you knew what Ymir was like. She was your only competition when it came to vivacious mockery.
Before Ymir could continue with your mini squabble, Eren and Mikasa had made their way back with their confectionaries.
“Oh, everyone’s here now.” Mikasa said.
Seeing the pair's arrival, everyone exchanged their hi’s and hello’s and I missed you’s.
“Jean said he’ll come when he’s on break. Shouldn’t be too long now.”
Eren opened his phone, checking the time. “Yeah, and he’ll be here soon too. He said he’s heading over right now.”
“Who is?” Historia inquired.
Eren and Mikasa gave each other a quick glance before looking back at the group.
“Oh, did we not tell you guys? Our childhood friend moved back to the city, and now he’s attending UofShina.” Mikasa clarified.
“We invited him so he could meet you guys. Are you cool with that?” Eren questioned.
Sasha perked up, “A new member of the gang! I can’t wait to meet him! I’m sure he’s amazing.”
Marco, Connie, and Historia joined her sentiment enthusiastically while Ymir kept her unbothered expression.
You, on the other hand, nod with less eagerness, as you were trying to hide your unease. Your heart began to increase in beats, and you raised your fingers to your neck to feel for your pulse.
Eren glanced at you, aware of your struggle when it came to new people. Your look said it all.
A childhood friend? Someone new? To me? For fuck’s sake.
You saw apology in his eyes, and not wanting to ruin the mood, you shrugged, posing as indifferent when you were far from it.
You never did well with new people, and especially not when you were just trying to relax with your downtime with the people you had already done the work befriending.
You never did well with change, either. That much was evident when your father died.
While you were grumbling internally, everyone else had faded into chatter about who knows what. It didn’t matter anyway, you were busy contemplating what to do about Eren and Mikasa’s new mystery friend.
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You pulled out your phone, desperate for something to divert your attention, and you failed to notice when the friend in question made his appearance until Eren called out his name.
“Armin! Over here!” and the man did a scan of the cafe before he spotted Eren. When he did, he bared all his teeth in a grin that was the textbook definition of “grinning ear to ear.”
You were glad everyone was more interested in seeing the guy, Armin, apparently, that they weren’t able to see the disbelief on your face that was falling its way from your face, down the throat, and sinking its way straight into your heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your index and middle finger found their way to the side of your neck to find your pulse, again.
Thump. Thump. Thump. It felt like someone was creating the instrumental for a new rock song inside your ribcage.
You watched as he went to hug Eren, and then moved to Mikasa. You watched as his hands flowed through the air, forging a story alongside the narration of his mouth. You were in such a trance you only identified fragments of what he was articulating. Something something, Arlert, something, something, something majoring in marine biology, something else about his childhood with your two closest friends that you couldn’t be bothered to pay mind to any longer. In the first time since hearing his name find its way to your ears, you took the shallowest of breaths, as if you feared by taking anything larger would mean he didn’t secure enough oxygen.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Off Armin. Arm-in. Are-lert. Armin Arlert. The two words made their world tour journey around the entirety of your head before making it to the anterior temporal lobes, where it would snuggle up for its stay.
Thump.
He was so angelic-looking that even the heavens above would only be able to describe the frame of his face.
What felt like should’ve been a scene in cinema, his neck pivoting towards yours.
Thump.
His blue eyes radiated the essence of the ocean, you could swear you saw it flowing inside his eyes, see the waves crashing inside. Even just in the presence of his gaze, you thought you were going to drown.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He looks just like him. His eyes are the same colour. His hair is the same colour. He smiles the same.
You dissected his facial features for only a few moments more before you had come to the conclusion as to why this man, who to the rest of your friends, was a new, friendly face, was inflicting such a reaction.
Fuck.
He looks like Dad.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ Armin’s POV ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Armin realized he had missed introducing himself to one person, the one who was seated behind Marco. Armin’s neck pivoted to land on the girl. He almost gasped out loud. Her eyes bore into his own, and for some reason, shock was plastered on her as well. Perhaps it was the reflection of his own dumbfoundment.
She was ethereal, so beautiful that her appearance would be enough of a reason to elicit such overwhelming astonishment.
That, however, was not the only reason Armin felt so, in lack of better words, shocked.
Fuck.
She looks just like her.