Neighbors || Jearmin

The other face of the party boy

"Your mom called me and..."

"Don't tell her." He shook his head nervously. It wasn't the first time he asked her the same favor, and he knew it wouldn't be the last either.

"I won't." She smiled again, reassuring him. "But you need to take care of yourself, Armin."

The boy nodded and sighed. The car stopped few minutes later in front of his building.

"Come on, I'll carry you." Eren offered, but Armin felt bad enough. He was ashamed.

"I'm fine to walk. I just took a nap, remember?"

Armin hated being a bother to anyone, so he pushed himself through a smile and convinced his friends to let him go. But the hardest part was walking straight with the shaky legs and fuzzy sight. He managed to push the building door open and waved his friends goodbye. But when he met the bottom of the stairs, he had to sit down. Climbing three floors of stairs was a task he was not ready for.

"Hey" a deep but familiar voice spoke behind him. "Are you okay?"

Not now... Why now?

"Jean? Oh, hi" he whispered and tried to smile. If his heart could pump enough blood, he would probably be blushing from embarrassment. But he had no energy to feel anything but exhaustion.

"You're drunk?" Armin chuckled at that, and Jean sat by his side.

"Exhausted, actually. I just finished my exams" he lied back on the stairs. It was a bad move, since now he felt like it was the best place on the planet to sleep.

"You need help?" Jean sounded worried, and Armin felt guilty again. But for some reason, he decided to stop pretending for once. Shielded behind the thought that maybe Jean felt like he owed him something for the noise, Armin accepted the offer.

"I want to say no but... I can't reach my apartment." It was a pitiful sight, yet when he dared to look, he met eyes full of worry looking back at him.

"Come on, I'll carry you there" and without a word he lifted Armin as easily as a feather. Don't ask, please. "You're so light! Do you ever eat?"

But Armin didn't answer. Jean meant well, he knew, but it was not an easy subject for Armin. And specially in that moment, he had no intention of explaining to the other what the reason of his condition was. So he rested there, with his eyes close, as Jean climbed the stairs. He focused on the sound of Jean's breathing, somehow soothing his racing mind, and noticed they arrived at the destination when the taller talked.

"Armin. The keys." Jean whispered carefully to the small figure in his arms like wondering if he was still awake or not. Armin opened his eyes and slid his hand in a pocket, took the somehow heavy keys and slid the right one in the lock.

"Thank you" he whispered, hoping Jean would put him down. However, his new friend pushed the door open with his foot and carried Armin to where the bedroom was, lying him on the bed. He covered Armin with a blanket, and even took his shoes off.

"You're welcome." Jean smiled and looked around nervously. "I should go now, but in case of anything, I'll leave you my number... somewhere. Now sleep." He took Armin's glasses off before the boy turned around in bed and passed out definitely.

÷×÷

It wasn't until the next morning when Armin woke up, feeling like he slept for a week straight. He rolled in bed looking for his phone and fell to the floor in the action.

"Fuck" he groaned in a broken voice. Armin had to clear his throat after hearing that sound, but he started to notice how bad he was.

"Great... I'm sick now."

The good part, his exams ended, and Armin didn't have anything to do so the situation didn't alarm him. The bad part, he usually recovered pretty slowly so the free time in between semesters he would be sick.

Armin got into the shower and stood under the hot water for long enough, feeling his whole body relaxing and the symptoms softening. Then he had breakfast, and even knowing he needed food he couldn't have more that a cup of tea, the leftover of a sandwich and tangerines, enough to calm the burning in his stomach. It was when he approached the sink to wash the dishes when he noticed a napkin perfectly placed with a pen on it.

"A phone number?" He couldn't remember at first, but when he did all his face turned bright red. "Jean"

He left the dished in the sink and returned to the paper. Armin dried his hands on his pants while staring at the numbers, remembering how awkward he looked the previous day. After a few minutes of staring and managing to calm down, he slowly recovered his usual temperance.

Armin was shy but calm and level-headed. He rarely overreacted and managed to control his emotions around people. Armin was proud of the growth he went through after moving out, and being less awkward around strangers was one of his accomplishments.

But Jean hit him differently for some reason. And even if Armin knew it was the anxiety affecting him badly, there was still a feeling deep down he couldn't pinpoint easily. And he was intrigued, because Jean seemed like a nice guy, and it was the first neighbor that seemed alive in that building. Also, because Jean helped him in a situation he could have easily walked away, like most people would have.

Armin typed the number carefully and saved it in his contacts, staring at the name for some seconds before locking the screen and collapsing back on the bed. He was so sleepy not even five minutes passed by before he fell back asleep.

Later that day, as Armin felt a little better, he dressed up and took the keys. He needed food to cook something healthy since there was nothing but bread, eggs and rice in his kitchen, but when he opened the door Armin bumped into a plastic bag and a note placed on his doormat.

"Soup. Don't worry, my mother cooked it. It will help on your recovery.
Jean."

Armin read it twice before taking the plastic bag. Inside there was a plastic container.

Why would he give it to me?

He opened the container and smelled the content. Chicken. It cooled down, but the smell filled Armin's stomach by it's own, hunger suddenly returning to him full force. Maybe he feels guilty for the noisy nights. Or maybe he's simply this nice.

Armin smiled thinking about it.

He heat up some of the soup and sat down on the sofa with a blanket over his shoulders. It was warm, tasty, full of flavor. It reminded him a little of the soup his mother made when he was sick, back when Armin was little. He grabbed his phone, then, and checked Jean's new saved contact. He was tempted to call, yet Armin called his mother instead. This soup reminded him of home, and after worrying her the last few weeks, he knew it was a call he needed to make. Besides, he missed her a lot.