Summer in the Rain (Ereri/Riren AU)

Act One

Today was the beginning. The beginning of many beginnings, I guess. Here it was simply my beginning, my first day of work, the first of many summer days in the rain I would spend. The drip-drop of droplets drip-dropped and splattered, unheeding, against the muddy streets of Trost as my impatient fingers tapped incessantly against the table, wating for my enthusiastic-as-hell manager to pass me the morning papers.

What was I even impatient for? To leave the hot, stuffy post office? To get this damn job over with, so that maybe, just maybe, my family could owe a little less? To prove to my father that I was not indeed the lazy ass he made me out to be?

"Here you are, paperboy!" Hanji bounced to me, handing over the thick bundle of newspapers to me. "First day, you excited?!" She grinned, but it came out more like a grotesque grimace, as I pretended not to notice the food stuck to her teeth. I tried as hard as I could to avoid her eyes as I swallowed, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yeah," I mumbled. Excited to get this over with. I chided myself for the thought, I should be happy for this generous offer, despite the fact that I'd now have to wake up earlier even than I used to for school, have to trek 5 miles every day, for the mere minimum wage that was offered. Despite that, I offered a halfhearted smile to the woman and waved goodbye with a limp wrist.

Trost was like a cinematically-arranged, picture-perfect postcard town, but with more rain. It had all the classics, a dusty old library, a quiet, brooding church. An all-organic non-super market that sold frozen ravioli dinners for 3 bucks apiece.

How did I fit in here? That was a damn good question. I never really felt like I belonged here, or any connection to this town...like I could always do more. That's why I took this job. Not for the money I might earn, despite what I had told them, but for my broke and nearly broken family.

I took a hesitent step outside, and didn't look back before bursting into a full sprint down Survey Corps Lane. What a lame name for a street, I thought as I tossed the first few newspapers onto the overhangs of the houses, claiming whatever dry spot I could find for the newspapers. I soon found the back of my head and neck drenched from the spillage in the overhangs of the roofs.

The water was warm, and it trickled down my back, snaking down my legs. I didn't give even a mere glance back as I kicked up puddles with my sneakers. But of course, my spurt of energy was just that-a short-lived, fast-dying spurt. Along with my enthusiasm, it dwindled down by the second mile.

My shoes were damp and mud-caked, sweat mixing with water, hair drenched. I stumbled down the road to the last house in sigh, an off-white modern house with green-and-pink cherry blossom petals scattered everywhere. I grinned, realizing I was almost finished with my first offical day of work. I bounded up to the porch of number 104 Survey Corps lane, ready to slug the newspaper onto the porch-

"The fuck do you think you're doing, brat?" There he was. His pale clothing melted into the similarly-colored porch. He had his legs open, reclined on a bench that couldn't have possibly been there before. In a mad dash to finish, I had failed to see him.

Not that he was easy to miss. He was dressed in blacks and whites, tight black pants with a white shirt that was just the smallest bit see-through. Just enough that you could see the curves of his stomach muscles...focus, Eren.

"S-sorry, sir, I was delivering your newspaper," I wanted to say more, but was cut of by this bastard's harsh reply. Seriously, what was his problem? I examined him closely, eyes subconciously raking up and down his body, from his stylish Vans to his black undercut, to his cigarette held loosely between his pale, spider-like fingers.

"I'll say it exactly once, get the fuck off my porch or I'll cut you," He spat. He looked me up and down, as if checking me out. "You're filthy," he muttered. Not exactly a pickup line. He tilted his head up, as if giving a superior judgment.

I stood there for a moment too long, shocked into silently still stature. "I-I'm s-sorry," I stammered, feet still planted on the porch. He cleanched his jaw and took a drag of his cigarette. "You shouldn't smoke," I murmured absentmindedly, half-hoping he didn't hear me.

He didn't, or at least pretended not to. "Don't apolagize, brat, just get off." He looked up for a fraction of a second, directly into mye eyes. His grey eyes-just as cool as the rest of him, fixed on me with...not the hatred he displayed, or so I like to have thought.

He had the eyes of someone you could dance with in the rain. His eyes were of someone who wasn't as undeniably cruel as he let on to be. They weren't the vile eyes of anger, no, much softer. Like instead of hating everything as he let on, he was just...tired? Desperate?

What the hell, Eren, I reminded myself. Wake up, smell the freaking coffee. This guy's a melodramatic customer, that's all. All he wants is your newspaper. I swallowed, and tried to smile apologetically as I slowly extended my hand, newaspaper and all, into his.

The only thing I felt was his cigarette as I reached for his hand. He took the newspaper with ease, slender fingers curling around it. He didn't even take one look at me as he grabbed it, leaving me with empty hands and the faintest trace of cigarette ash.

I didn't wait for him to tell me off again. I tiptoed off the porch, admiring how my muddy sneakers marred the white paint of the porch, and how I heard a faint tch as I glanced over my shoulder. I took one last, long glimpse of the scenery. The pale cherry blossoms and their petals littering the peculiar faded green grass. And him. The familiar stranger, bending over and sweeping off the mud from his otherwise-perfection.

* * *

Nervous about posting this so soon because I don't know how often I can update...I'll try for twice a week like I usually do. I also wish the happiest of Halloweens to all of you lovely readers!! See you next time!!

~Faith