𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐗𝐗𝐈 : 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞

Also, they weren't Eren's blankets and pillows.

They were yours from your bedroom.

And when you gazed further to your side, the most beautiful bushel of tiger lilies plumed on the nightstand in a plain, clear vase. Whoever had brought them plucked only the brightest specimens from your garden. They became more beautiful each second your uncovered eye studied the orange petals.

You wondered how your quilt and flowers traveled so far to the Yeagers' home, but you didn't dwell on the thought long. You relaxed into the familiarity of your far-off home. It would be nice to go back there—to lay in your bed as Niccolo cooked all sorts of foreign foods. You would show him the cookbook Connie brought back from his trip and go through the recipes together until you settled on the most exciting one for that night's dinner.

"Jean wanted me to give you these, too... when you woke up," Eren croaked out as he pulled up his stool and sat a foot away.

You tore your eyes from the flowers to inspect the leather-bound pages Eren held before you. It looked exactly like Mr. Kirstein's sketchbook, only less worn with time. Eren's thumb secured a pencil to the cover until you reached for the gift. Your hands shook as they took hold of the bindings. You snapped open the spine to find only blank leaflets.

"He said you could use it to write what you want to say. Until you can speak again," Eren explained.

Eren maintained a guilty, hollow expression. Taking the lead with weak fingers, you flattened the book and wrote down a few words. In your current state, each letter appeared more infantile than the last despite all the years you spent perfecting your cursive. It must be a side effect of the glorious medicine: your hands struggled to still themselves. Perfect diamonds did not exist. This was just one of morphine's minor flaws.

Are you alright? you scribbled.

You twisted the leather so Eren could read it. Slight amusement warmed his cheeks. He looked better that way.

"Is that your biggest concern right now? Of all the things you could worry about?" Eren asked. You nodded. Eren would understand your worry if he could see how terrible he appeared. "I am, but are you? Do you hurt? Can I get you something? More blankets? Nicer pillows? Water? My father?" You shook your head. "Good. Do you... do you remember anything? What happened?"

You thought hard, but memories were spotty. A hand, a smirk, but now you remembered falling into darkness.

I fell, you wrote.

"You fell." Eren sighed. "All this from a fall." A scoff of disbelief fell from his lips and onto the floor to writhe around in anguish.

He needed to try your medical cocktail. It would put a smile on his face as it did yours.

"I can read to you if you want," Eren offered. "I know you do the reading, but that isn't an option today."

You nodded, so Eren read well into the afternoon. The same family of finches from yesterday tweeted by the windowsill, acting as the pit orchestra for the play your friend put on.

Eren was a decent reader when he put his mind to it; he still had the occasional slip of the tongue or choppy phrases he struggled with in his youth. A few times, he had to reread a sentence when he put the wrong inflections or confused a word, but you enjoyed hearing him speak after yesterday's silence. His voice grew hoarse the longer he dragged on, but he still performed with a smile to lift your spirits as high as they could soar.

He was such a wonderful friend. You were glad you stayed for him.

For all of them. All the other Yeagers, Niccolo, Hitch, Marlowe, Mr. Smith, Levi, and the Springers. They made it all worth it. They made you so happy.