THIRTEEN • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 22: Loop Twelve, II

But the truth was, as soon as he saw your face, he forgot about her.

"Sorry," Eren said, but his voice was a hollow echo. He was not sorry at all, strangely resolved to believe that she did not even belong there.  "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"I don't understand you, Eren," Grisell said, biting her lip and glancing away. "It's like you're in love with someone, but you don't know who."

Eren thought about telling her otherwise, that no, of course, it's you! But that would be a half-lie, and besides, he didn't mind her company too much. He felt as though he was meant to love someone at that moment. But something felt frighteningly off, as if the sun rose at night and the moon ascended at day.

His head throbbed again. For some reason, the image of you burned into his mind. You had been looking away when he spoke to you, but for some reason, he was desperate to talk to you. That was why he had stayed although you wanted him gone. Eren regretted that if he had tried harder, you might like talking to him—even if you had dismissed him earlier.

Eren glanced at the laboratory door, fighting the temptation to open it. It wasn't as though he had any reason to bother you, or an excuse to enter your private space.

Who were you?

-

The only time you let Hange and Moblit call you to Eren was during a certain experiment when Squad Levi was hiding in the mountains before the coup d'état uprising organized by Erwin. You attached yourself to Moblit then, sitting quietly by the side as he collected the standard samples from Eren for analysis—a drop of blood, saliva, the usual. Hange had taken you on as an apprentice for many raw scientific exploits.

Eren couldn't stop glancing at you from his seat on the bed and you hated it.

Hange had tasked you to record his heartbeat with a stethoscope, just to make sure he was healthy after all the strenuous Titan experiments. You wanted to protest. You knew he was healthy. They could have made Eren count his pulse by himself but now you were given the order, you couldn't refuse.

You sat at his bedside, avoiding his eyes, and said, "Do you mind if I put my hands up your shirt?"

Eren, on the other hand, felt his brain stop working. "H-huh?"

You gave him a blank stare. "For the stethoscope."

"Oh," said Eren. "Oh. Yeah, that's fine."

You put the stethoscope on. It pressed into your ears painfully taut. Without looking Eren in the eye, you reached down and slid the bell under his shirt. Gooseflesh visibly scattered across his flesh as he felt your fingers lift his shirt, inviting cool air to sail across his stomach. Or maybe it wasn't the air that was causing his stomach to lurch. Your palm carefully snaked across his front, only lightly brushing against the hard muscles of his abdomen.

The cold bell pressed against his heart, inviting the song of his blood in your eardrums. A familiar melody, like water running on the river back in Shiganshina. His heartbeat was as steady as a steel gong, loud and firm.

Eren observed you, blinking languidly. The scrunch of your brows drew familiar lines. The way your hair looked in the sunlight complimented you well. Even the sound of your soft breathing felt like something he was acquainted with every day.

He shifted in discomfort.

"Don't move," you said rigidly.

"Sorry," he replied. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, as though he was about to combust. You realized that he was getting flustered. Even without ever knowing or touching you, he was still reduced to a puddle whenever you were intimately close—even if it was just for medical purposes.