Sinner In A Church| a. arlert [ON HOLD]

ʟʏsᴀɴᴅᴇʀ & ʜᴇʀᴍɪᴀ [𝟶𝟸]

Fingers picking at the lints on your bed, you realised that you probably didn't show your gratitude for these people enough, but it didn't mean by any means you were going to slot yourself into their tight-knit group. One of the things you had learned from an incredibly young age was self-awareness, you knew when you were wanted and needed, and you knew when you were becoming a burden or intruding. The same way you were so fragile about your personal space was the same way you valued that of others, the last thing you wanted to be was a hypocrite.

Sipping up the last dregs of your coffee, that was now rather cold, you stood and stretched, swiping your dressing gown from your hook. It was had been a birthday gift from your mom back when your still in high school, and it still fit like a glove, you cloaked its fluffy, caramel, sleeves around your skin and thought about the last time you had seen her, the last time she had hugged you, those days she used to like and trust you. Deciding it was best not to fall into the rabbit hole of bitterness, you opened your door and ducked into the battlefield.

Hitch was slim girl with a pretty face and her means of flirtation to offer the world. Her hair sandy and short tresses were in a tangled ponytail at the nape of her neck, and you nearly jumped out of her skin to see the slimy, lilac face mask she had smeared all over her face, thinking she had been abducted by aliens. Her phone was clutched in one hand, the other balled into a fist as she glared at someone in the kitchen. You offered her a small "morning" but her seething and sour face did not spare you a glance.

She was quite the hot and cold character, and you had learned that the best trick to recover from her snubs was to give her time to climb off her high horse and apologise. If you didn't get on her bad side, she was one of the most generous souls you could ever meet.

 Creeping into the kitchen to rinse out your mug, you finally did jump to see Jean on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the milk that was all over the black and white check tiles.

The kitchen was a terribly cramped space and possibly the only downfall of the whole apartment. Though it was more elaborate than a usual college kitchenette, containing a decent stove and countertop, the fact that the group had forced in a small dining table into it had made the entire place a struggle.

"Shit. Sorry y/n, blame that dragon over there. How are you?" Twinkled Jean, not even looking up as he clumsily threw some towels to absorb the white liquid.

You'd be heavily surprised if this boy told you he had ever stepped foot into a kitchen.

"Actually fuck off, Jean. I'm meeting Marlow's parents for brunch, and I'm going to be late because of you." Hitch practically squawked, slamming hers and Sasha's shared bedroom shut.

You were the only person with your own room, another thing that has attracted you over here. The others were like family and didn't really mind their shared living space but nonetheless they were still strangers, even after having lived with them for nearly four months. The only time you spent with them was when you helped out with dinner, only to retreat back into your room like a hermit.

Guiltily, you thought about Hitch's straightener, that was lying beneath your bed. All of you had been using them to iron your clothes since Eren fused the actual iron and none of you had the spare funds to hunt for another one. It was a sticky predicament, yes, but you were just too nervous to give her the straightener back, after you loaned it from Sasha.

Chewing your lip, you tried your best to step around Jean and his lanky limbs but no such luck. Taking the hint, he stood up, giving you a crooked smile. Things were unnecessarily awkward between you and Jean, and you blamed yourself for it. You remembered on your first week of moving in, Jean had proclaimed that you were easily the prettiest girl in the apartment which had Connie and Sasha breathing down your necks to date one another.