The Guardian

The new kid

The Guardian

The alarm screamed in his ear. Eren Yeager, sixteen years old, five foot three inches tall, slammed his hand onto it. He groaned. Rolling over he glared at the time. Another day dawned, another chance for him to get beaten up. He already had a split lip, a black eye and the pinky on his right hand was busted, good thing he was left handed. He went to shower.

He cleaned himself up, brushed his hair and teeth, put deodorant on and bandaged his pinky to his ring finger. He dressed. It really didn't matter what he wore, someone would harass him about it. It sucked that his favorite color was pink. He often had to say he washed his clothes with something red. But that didn't stop him from getting beat up.

Today he pulled on black skinny distressed jeans, a light blue tank top and an oversized pink sweater. The sweater fell off one shoulder, which he liked, it hung down past his ass. He pulled out a pair of black bikers boots that went up past his knees. They had chains on the side. His final touch was black fingerless gloves that went to his elbows. He looked at himself in the mirror.

He liked how his small thin frame wore the outfit. If he was going anywhere but school, he would be cute as hell. At school, they would just kick his ass. Might as well get it over with, right? He thought to himself. Slipping his green back pack over his shoulder he went downstairs.

The house was empty as usual. He basically lived alone. His mother would come home late at night and leave early in the morning. His father was always out of town on business. Typical morning, Eren thought as he dropped his bag beside the front door. Mom had left out a package of pop tarts for him, and lunch and dinner money. He knew the money would get stolen when he got beat up. He left the twenty, hiding it in the silverware draw. Taking the ten he put it in his pocket.

He munched the cold pop tarts as he walked to the end of his street. He lived in the second to the last house. His best friend lived a street over. Armin was already at the bus stop. He wore blue jeans, sneakers and a grey hoodie. Under it just poking out the bottom, was what looked like a mustard yellow shirt.

"Hey Armin!" Eren called handing him the second tart. Armin ate it as they watched the bus make it up their hill.

"You look cute, too bad it's going to get ruined." His friend frowned.

"I'm fine today will be different." Eren said this every morning.

"Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome." Armin warned. He had once dressed in brighter colors like his friend. Due to getting beat up all the time, he had changed. The dark yellow was as bright as his clothing got.

The bus was filled with loud rowdy kids. The front was taken by the younger kids. Eren moved to the middle. Each seat had a body in it. If only one, the person sat on the edge refusing him a place to sit. Eren was forced to the back of the bus.

Three seats from the end, he saw a lone boy sitting with his head against the window. "Do you mind?" Eren asked the newcomer. He looked even smaller than. Eren. The teen shook his head not bothering to look up. Eren moved in as close to him as he could. Armin sat half on top of Eren and half on the seat. The boy just watched the world go by.

"Oh look Yeager is so cute!" Bertolt, one of his bullies called out.

"Can't wait to rip that shirt off. Play with those golden nipples." Jean shouted out.

"He likes it rough!" Reiner cried as they all laughed. Eren flushed burying his face into Armin's back.

"That ass though. One of these days Yeager, I am going to fuck that ass until you can't see straight." Bertolt warned him.