Page After Page

Chapter nine

**Armin's POV***

"Where the heck is she?" I shiver, running through the twilight, looking in the dark of nothingness, hope still glued on to the back of my head. I feet make 'tip' and 'tap' noises, it's sound echoing through the hallways. I start running, trying to make myself warmer, but only made things worse.

Turning a corner and entering where dorm rooms are, I stop at an unwanted jacket with brown soft outline to it. Slipping on the sleeves, it's length fit nicely on me.  I didn't even know how cold it was outside until I found the jacket. It's long end wrapped around my waist, and so did the other brown on my arms, tightly securing small heat from outside and transferring it unto my body.

"No time. Have to find her." I mutter under my breath. I begin running again, hearing faint voices as though they were whispers through the dorms, hardly and noise was elected. If there was any sounds, it was low and serious. Light was escaping in about all of the rooms, showing that my classmates were still awake. I stop at my room, which there was no light in. Maybe Berthodlt was already sleeping, I could hear noise of creaking bed noises anyway. But I could find a small, yellow light inside

I slowly opened the door, making a creak as I stepped inside. The smell of Bertholdt blowing on my face. I Didn't see anything particular about the room. It was late, and nothing was wrong. No noises of the shower, so Berthodt wasn't bathing. There only was the sound of the bed creaking. I went over to the bunk bed Berthodt and I sleep in, and climbed up the small stars that led to his bed.

Berthodt's face wasn't there. He was under the covers, and that normally doesn't happen. He hates blankets on his head, or face for that matter. And since it was fall, transitioning into winter, Bertholdt was using a thicker comforter. We he also hated. So, why does this day make it any different?

I finally have the courage and gabbed the covers, showing my roommate covering a book, with a book light in hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask, turning my head sideways to try and see what is happening before me.

Berthodt moves in the same fashion, blocking my way to see anything.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing. Leave me alone."

A sweat streams down his forehead. "Liar. Bert, your sweat exposes your secrets to the world, as though your telling them yourself." I finish my sentence with a smug face, smiling almost teasingly. Berthodlt sighed, and finally gave in. He moved to the side, exposing the book he has been hiding. It was generally brown, but a black outline in the front, only to open by the bottom.

My sketch book.

I grab it out of the messy bed, holding it close in my arms. I look at the tall, sweaty mess sitting on his knees. He scratches his head, and stifles a smile.

"Ha?" he says, trying to break the thick ice and horrid silence that circled around us.

"What the hell man?" I say, purely mad of Bertholdt's actions. "What lead you to do this?"

Berthodt looks down, hesitant, than looks back up again. "Fine."

He climbs down the stairs, and sits on my part of the bunk. I follow.

"Well?" I question, my patience running out. He sighs, and begins.

"I looked through your sketch book while you were gone. Yes .But that was for good reason."

I stand up, my head avoid the metal surface that made Bert's ground for the mattress. "What reason?! I made sure to point out that this sketch book is personal and private! Do I need to review what we talked about at the end of the year? Hmmm?" I scream. I cover my mouth, being cautious not to wake anyone, if anyone is actually sleeping.