Eremin One Shots!!!

The Blue Flower

The Blue Flower

Running was something Armin thrived for. It was 6 AM jogs where the sun was peeking just above the horizon and the air hung with the smell of dewy grass; it was the leftover adrenaline of the sprint at the end of the race, and the pride in beating his time; it was the steady flow of air rushing in and out of his lungs, and the confidence he gained with each breath. He found undeniable thrill in the challenge. Running was something he was actually good at (besides school), and he would be damned if he didn't try to keep it that way.

Thudding into the driveway after one of those early morning escapades, Armin stopped to catch his breath. He pulled out his earbuds, which were blaring the Foo Fighters. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face, and his mouth twitched up in a subtle smile. Today was the day of the season's first practice. Armin had been running all summer in preparation. This would cause his grandfather to occasionally fret that he was getting too thin. The blonde boy would chuckle wholeheartedly and dismiss it.

The start of the cross country season always made Armin antsy in more ways than one—mostly because of new runners, and the fear that his coaches would see him as inadequate if a few incoming freshmen topped his speeds. He shrugged it off anyway as being irrational.

Heading back into the house, he was greeted by his grandfather, who tossed a water bottle his way. Armin held the icy cold bottle up to his forehead, sighing at the feeling, and then proceeded to chug it down. His grandpa shook his head at him, before sliding a plate with breakfast his way. "Thanks, Grandpa," Armin said with a smile, before shoveling the food into his mouth. He got insanely hungry after runs. That was a fact.

After a quick shower, Armin hopped onto his bike and headed to school. On top of his runs, he biked to be in extra good shape, and it was something he did every morning, going to school. On more than one occasion his bike had been stolen by a bully, but he had either recovered it or saved up his money to get a new one. Armin never let himself get discouraged, and even if he did, it didn't last very long.

He arrived at the immense building with plenty of time to spare before first period. He parked his bike and made sure to lock it down, before heading inside with a stream of other teenagers.

The mornings were usually a frenzy of bodies rushing around, at their lockers, talking with friends, and hurrying to finish up assignments that should have been finished the night before. Armin didn't fit in very well, with his above-average intelligence and impeccably-organized life. The first day of school always did make him uneasy, however, and he tried to seek out a familiar face. On his way to his locker, he ran into his friend Marco, whom he had seen quite a bit early on in the summer, but not much in the past few weeks. The freckle-faced boy smiled, enveloping him into a hug, and Armin returned the gesture.

"Hey, Armin! How've you been?" he asked politely.

"Great. I'm ready for the season," he chirped. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty set to go too. Sorry about us not hanging out much lately. Jean and I have been spending a lot of time together."

"That's alright." Armin shrugged. He knew how much Jean meant to Marco, and didn't want to interrupt what they had.

The school day dragged by, Armin nearly bursting with excitement and anxiety at the prospect of practice once the final bell rang.  There was no telling what the new season could bring.

He jogged over to the track as soon as he had changed, taking in the sight of familiar faces, and a few unfamiliar ones, freshman probably. One boy in particular caught his eye, standing close to a dark haired girl with a menacing aura. He was tall and lean, a flop of unkempt, chestnut hair falling in his face. Most noticeable were his expressive features and anger-filled eyes. Armin couldn't tear his gaze away from the pair, not until he spotted his coaches approaching, and switched over to them.