The Tutor (Eremin) {Editing}

9. scar tissue~red hot chili peppers

9. scar tissue~red hot chili peppers

Armin's POV

Running in the door after Eren dropped me off, I nearly crashed into my grandfather, who was waiting in the hallway.

"Whoa there," he laughed, steadying me. I laughed too, nervously and a bit hysterically, and my grandfather raised an eyebrow.

"Where have you been, young man? You seem flustered."

I let out a breath that I had been holding in for most likely the past minute. "Um...well, Eren and I like, went to get something to eat and then saw a movie, and I-I feel like I'm dying b-because w-we--uh, we held hands like for almost the whole movie because I was scared, and what does that even mean, and..." I trailed off with a sigh at the smirk making its way onto my grandfather's face.

"Sounds like a date," my grandfather said knowingly, nodding like a wise old teacher and stroking an imaginary beard. I huffed.

"It...he didn't say it was a date, I mean...I don't know," I went on, feeling my face, which was icy cold, burn with a sudden heat.

My grandfather chuckled, putting an arm around my shoulders. "Alright, then, but don't lower your expectations so much. Anyway, I made hot chocolate, would you like some?"

I nodded, and he steered me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table, and pushed a steaming mug into my frozen hands. Eren's heater in his car was broken, and he had released a string of obscenities as he fiddled with it in the movie theater parking lot, trying to start it up again. It didn't work. He then had apologized profusely to me, since the movie theater was a good twenty minutes from my house. I was shivering noticeably, but I had been so anxious for the duration of the car ride that I had barely noticed. The events of the day kept playing in my head on a loop. Eren picking me up at my house. Eren singing along sarcastically to "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Eren's knee bumping mine under the table, the rough fabric of our jeans grazing each other. Our matching fortunes. Holding hands at the movies.

Holding hands at the movies.

My grandfather encouraged me to drink, and once the steaming hot liquid had trickled down my throat, I felt some sort of warmth return to my body.

I took a hot shower, climbed into fuzzy pajamas, and studied in bed for a bit before picking up my phone, staring at the sunflowers on my lock screen. No new messages. No notifications. Nothing.

It was sort of silly, and I knew it as the thoughts appeared, but I was disappointed when Eren didn't text me at all the rest of the night. I didn't want to initiate it myself, though, and besides, what would I say? The car ride home had been lots of spaced-out breaks in conversation. It had been a little bit awkward. Eren and I had never run out of things to talk about before, which made our silence difficult. I thought about asking him what exams he would be having the next day, and if he needed any help, but I knew he would come to me if he needed it. So I just left it. We would talk the next day.

• • •

The following day arrived, and I had still received not a single text from Eren. I felt stupid for not just texting him first, so I decided just to text him myself. It wouldn't hurt anyone.

How did your exams go? I hit send, set my phone down, and let out a breath. Why was I so nervous? It was just Eren. It was just a text. No big deal.

No big deal, my brain taunted me. He probably remembered how much of a stupid baby you are. You shouldn't have held his hand. Stupid dumb idiot.

"Ugh," I groaned, curling in on myself and yanking my blankets over my head. Shut up, brain. Eren wouldn't do that. We're friends. He's my best friend.