THIRTEEN • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 6: Loop Three, II

"All you had to do was resist this little shithead's awkward compliments and puppy eyes. I kinda see the appeal for a girl to like a guy who's caring, but [Name], you're literally way too good for a suicidal bastard."

"You're just mad you don't have anyone to use your shitty pick-up lines on," you retorted.

"Hey—"

"—is for horses," Eren finished. He wasn't as high and mighty as before, but there was a sharp and protective edge to his tone. "Sorry. This one's not for you."

You tried not to, because it was stupid and corny, but hearing Eren openly stake his claim made your cheeks warm.

Jean narrowed his eyes. "Just don't screw this up, Jaeger."

Days blurred into weeks. You lamented on ways for Eren to find freedom, but he was dead set on the idea of the Rumbling. He slowly grew closed-off from Mikasa and Armin, and stuck to you like a vice. There was sadness in their eyes, and confusion, but they brushed it off as Eren being occupied with you.

He was like a riptide receding from the shore, preparing to crash back with a vengeance. And he was pulling you into the current with him.

This new teenage cadet Eren acted so much like his old nineteen-year-old self that it creeped you out. His voice took on a deeper timbre, and he spoke with a quiet intelligence; so unlike the young man who used to fight and argue during training. Still, loud or not, he was Eren, and you loved him no matter what.

On a free day, the cadets waded in a lake just below the mountain. Eren didn't want to swim, so you sat next to him as everybody else stripped and splashed into the water. His legs were extended, heels barely touching the shore. You almost contemplated putting a hand on him or resting your chin on his shoulder, but shook it off.

Armin sent you a knowing look as he and Mikasa rolled up their sleeves and waded into the shallows. "[Name], Eren, join us."

"Maybe later," Eren replied half-heartedly. He glanced at you. "Do you want to?"

"I'll do whatever you want," you answered.

You didn't like it. Eren's thoughtlessness, his disinterest for deep connections and the way he hid his gnawing fear of hurting those he loved. You didn't like feeling like an adult already, even if you knew you had already been an adult. 

He leaned his head against your stomach to use as a pillow. His neck fell into your lap. You knew he was pretending not to, but his nape was tingling from being pressed against your thighs. Your cheeks warmed at his shamelessness. Clearly, Eren was not as self-conscious when it came to PDA as you.

"Did I ever tell you that I like you?" he asked, looking up at you upside-down.

"Only a million times," you said, brushing the hair from his face. He seemed to like that. "Because we're close."

And it was true. At the moment, you were the only one who knew everything. He confided in you and sought you out to describe his fears, hopes, and nightmares made him look hungry. Eren was desperate for someone to understand. He didn't have his Jaegerists or followers anymore, neither did he even think of gaining a faction—all he seemed to want was you.

"Not just that," Eren said. "You know why."

"I don't know."

"You're hopeless," he said.

Your fingers absentmindedly played with his hair. "If you gave me hope, maybe I wouldn't be like this."

Eren frowned. "What do you mean, I don't give you hope?"