𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐕 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

Your eyes snapped open, and you turned to the doorway. "You told her about him?" you asked Eren.

"Look at the time! We should really get going." Eren ran up and yanked you out of the room. "Bye, Mother! We'll be back later."

You descended the stairs, and Mrs. Yeager called after the both of you. "Don't drink too much, you two! And try to behave yourself, Eren! No fighting!"

Once outside, the purple air swallowed you, and floral wetness filled your nose with its pleasant odor. Eren's hand still encapsulated yours, and you struggled to hold up the plumes of your dress. Laughter reverberated off the speckled sky as your friend fought to keep you upright and out of the dirt. The chariot came into view with your three other companions waiting patiently for your arrival.

"Mr. Ness!" you exclaimed when you saw your coachman. "It is so good to see you! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It has. Haven't been many places worth going to this year, have there?" The older man patted your shoulder gently as he stroked a horse's side with his other hand. "Go on and take your seat before we are late. I'd hate to be scolded by Miss Hitch again." You nodded to your favorite horse expert and skipped to the side of the cart.

"Took you long enough." Zeke extended his hand to pull you up onto the coach. "I was afraid Eren had gotten lost in his reflection and trapped you with him."

"Can't rush perfection, brother, and I must say, I look perfect." Eren smoothed his hair with his hand as he shot you a wink.

Mr. Kirstein scoffed across the carriage as you settled into a seat between the two brothers. The coach began rolling forward as the artist's eyes traced your figure from top to bottom, and his long fingers unscrewed a flask. He offered the metal tin to Mr. Arlert to his right without even turning his head.

"No, thank you. I have no plans to drink much tonight," the Londoner refused.

Eren, never one to miss an opportunity to sample new liquors, leaned forward and picked the tin from the Frenchman's fingers. "Thanks, Frenchie," he said, then took a long swig.

You anxiously glanced at Mr. Kirstein, who snarled in displeasure. "I did not offer it to you, boy."

"What good is a flask if you don't share it with friends?"

"We are not friends."

"Lighten up, ponyboy. It might be different in France, but American girls prefer polite men. Better start practicing your manners here with me before you meet a nice lady tonight and ruin your chances before you even learn her name."

Eren took another sip and offered you the tin. You might dislike the French beast across the carriage, but you were wise enough not to get between an alcoholic and their poison, so you waited for Mr. Kirstein to approve before wrapping your fingers around the flask. The brute exhaled deeply with his eyes closed. When he revealed honey irises again, staring straight at you, he tipped his head downward.

The corners of your lips curled upward, and you pressed the top to your lips, only for a terrible liquid to scald your throat. Your stomach began to rage with fire as it rolled in painful waves, and it took every piece of your soul not to retch.

You left out a slight cough before you spoke, "I will never understand why men drink liquor when perfectly good wine exists."

"We do not drink it for the taste," Mr. Kirstein said as he reclaimed the metal from your fingertips. The horses' clopping and the wheels spinning filled the pregnant silence left after the exchange.

Being the oldest, Zeke was the only one brave enough to break the tension. "You look lovely. Blue certainly suits you," he said in your direction.

"Carla would disagree," you informed the older brother. "She thinks this dress is far too dull for a party."