For You | Eren x Reader

Chapter 13- Waiting:

Howdy!~ welcome back!! How y'all doing? I'm in the middle of finals week rn, so I wanna kms just like Eren does in this ff 🤩🤩

Anyway, I decided to update early today, and I hope you enjoy these new chapters!!! Lmk what you think! Love y'all sm❤️❤️

Muah~

Jean, Sasha, and Connie waited outside the ER to grab coffee with me.

"So, how long is he going to stay?" Sasha asked as we walked to the tiny coffee stand right outside the Emergency Room doors.

"A week, he says," I answered.

"Oh, that's not too bad," Connie tried to make light of the situation. "I'm sure he'll feel a hell of a lot better when he's out."

Jean ordered our coffees and two croissants for Sasha and Connie. We all sat across from each other, waiting for the meal. An empty silence hung in the air.

"Yeah, I hope so," I nodded.

I holed myself up in my dorm room for the entire weekend. My friends would drop by to bring food and watch TV with me every so often. I appreciated them more than I let them know. This was something I needed. And, I bet this was something that Eren had needed too.

I felt around my pockets— the ring was still there. I hadn't changed or gotten out of bed at all except to use the bathroom. I felt like a zombie, and I knew that my zombie presence was taking a toll on Jean, Sasha, and Connie. I did my best to suppress it, but they were perceptive friends: they knew what was going on inside my head.

On Monday, I walked into my ceramics class and put my head on the table. Despite doing nothing the entire weekend, I was awfully tired. I couldn't sleep, though. Every time I closed my eyes I'd see blood pouring out of Eren's wrist as he slipped away from me, screaming that I should just let him die. And if I ever did get tired enough to escape reality, I'd wake up shortly after in tears.

I slammed my fists on the table: "Ugh!"

My classmates turned towards me with their eyebrows raised, but I didn't care. I didn't care about any of it. Things were beginning to feel pointless compared to the constant torment of watching someone you had known for almost a year beg for you practically kill them. I'm sure Eren resented me for letting him live. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have to go to a psych ward with crazy people, come back to school and face his terrible grades, and confront every other pointless thing this world had to offer.

Even so, I didn't regret my decision. Why would I? I'd rather Eren spend the rest of his life hating me than die a meaningless death in my arms at a stupid college party. I sighed tensely, pulling out my clay sculpture and beginning to work on it. As I carved away, my eyes kept glancing at the door, waiting for Eren to walk in late.

Idiot, I thought. You know he doesn't come back for another week. What are you looking for?

The next day was the same routine. Go to class, sit down, wait for Professor Hanji's instructions, pull out my project, work on my project, put away my project, leave class. It was routine like always, but emptier. There was no one sitting across from me. No one to observe and analyze closely as I sculpted. For someone who watched at him as much as I did... I'm a moron for being so blind.

One less day of waiting before Eren came back. Despite knowing this, I still looked at the door every five seconds. At one point, I carved straight through the middle of my pot, causing it to collapse, simply because some random dark-haired student walked through the door midway through class and I had hoped it to be Eren.

The kid looked nothing like him.

The day after, Wednesday, was slightly different. Professor Hanji gave us another lecture. When I pulled out my notes and opened to an already-filled-out page, my hands shook. My messy writing had lines pulling away from it pointing towards small paragraphs in Eren's handwriting. He had told me awhile ago that my words were hard for him to read. These were his translations.

Where I wrote a scribble of sentences, there was a little arrow that wrote in barely-more legible handwriting: "The oldest known ceramic artifact is dated as early as 28,000 BCE. It is a statuette of a woman, named the Venus of Dolní Věstonice, (is that how u spell it??) from a small prehistoric settlement near Brno..."

A felt a smile creep up onto my lips and scolded myself: Stop it. They're just words. Just notes. They are nothing to be excited about. Eren isn't here. Focus on your work.

But, it was difficult. Eren had drawn little stick figures and doodles that interacted with mine— by looking through this binder, no one would have known what was going on inside his head.

I had one page that was filled with those 3D 'S's I had learned to draw in middle school. In the margin, Eren had drawn a tiny smiley face with the words "Cool" written underneath. So stupid. There were poor attempts at recreating the letter next to my drawings, and apologies and complaints written underneath, like "This is hard," stamped with a frowny face or "Sorry for drawing all over your book."

I balled my fists, angry with myself for absorbing myself in sentiment instead of focusing on my classwork. I tore out the doodled-on piece of paper from my notebook and dumped it in the trash. Stupid.

On Thursday, having finished my project early and with nothing else to do, I sat alone at my table and sulked. Professor Hanji suggested that I start an independent project, which I normally would accept, but today I quickly declined. There was no point. I absentmindedly felt around my pocket; the ring was still there. For once, I pulled it out. I had been transferring the ring from pocket to pocket when I had changed outfits for school, but, other than that, I had paid it no mind until now. I slipped it on my middle finger like Eren had worn it. It was too loose. I changed it to my thumb— still too loose to wear.

I took it off and tried to spin it in circles around the table like Eren had done. He had always been able to make it spin for an extensive period of time. I spent the rest of class trying to perfect my technique so I could beat him. Of course, I didn't even come close. When class was dismissed, the ring went back into my pocket where it belonged.

Friday. Only three days left until Eren would return. I kept glancing up at the door, waiting for Eren to walk in early. Of course, he never showed. I had instinctively pulled the ring out of my pocket and had begun spinning it on the counter. I couldn't tell if my compulsive behavior had arisen because of excitement or anxiety, but, either way, the feeling would not fade.

I still was barely sleeping. For the few hours I did get in, I woke up screaming or in tears. I was lucky my roommate had dropped out before second semester. Otherwise, she would be having a major problem with me. I was angry with myself for caring so much. True, the nightmares were valid and, to a small extent, my eagerness for Eren to return was warranted— but, I had barely known him. I shouldn't have been this anxious for him to come back. I shouldn't have been thinking about him this often. It had made me a disaster.

I had heard around that Floch was hosting another party tonight. Jean didn't bother to ask if I had wanted to go. Instead, the four of us stayed inside and watched a movie.

Monday. Eren was coming home today.