JAWS (Complete)

Chapter 8

                  *You have a dog!?*

A/N:

Hi everyone 👋

Hmm I'm not really a dog person so i take advice to my grandma who have 4 BIG dogs (OMG😰)
I'm a cat person 😂

Anyway stay safe and always wear your mask😷

Enjoy

Vote and comment 😘
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Reiner is just settling in to watch a soccer game when someone starts pounding on his door.

The sound jolts him to attention, and he sits up abruptly, nearly knocking his bowl of popcorn onto the floor. What the hell? There are only so many people that could be, and Historia would call first and Ymir would be yelling his name from out there. Since neither of those things have happened, it’s not either of them, and that narrows it right down. A repair man of some kind, maybe?

Reiner grunts as he gets to his feet. He could use the distraction, honestly; the game that’s playing was supposed to serve that purpose, but it wasn’t working too well. He’s procrastinating, and he knows it; he needs to call the gym and cancel his appointment for tomorrow, but something is holding him back. Reiner doesn’t want to cancel it, but he also doesn’t think he can stand being around Galliard if he’s going to be nervous and edgy around him. He doesn’t know where they stand, but he does know that things can’t continue the way they are, and he’s going to have to be the one to break them off.

The pounding on his door continues, and Reiner shuffles towards it. He’s wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt, not the classiest things on earth, but if he’s going to open the door to a delivery man, it doesn’t really matter.

Reiner unlocks the door and opens it, and as soon as he does, a little flurry of red hair and leather jacket pushes his way inside. Reiner steps aside, shocked, as Galliard lets himself in.

“It’s about time you got to the door, it’s freezing out there!”

“I… what are you doing here?” Galliard has brought the scent of cold air in with him, and Reiner glances out the window. No snow, but it looks windy out there. Spring in Trost is always unpredictable.

Just like the guy kicking off his boots and striding towards Reiner’s kitchen table.

“You’re smart, right?” Galliard plops down on one of Reiner’s chairs and starts rooting through his backpack.

“Uh… yes?” Reiner follows, dazed, and sits down across from him. “Why?”

“Good.” Galliard pulls a brick of a textbook out of his bag and thunks it down on the table. Economics is printed across the top, along with a used book sticker. Galliard pulls some printed pages out of the book and slides them across the table to Reiner. “My teacher is shit and I can’t fail this class. Explain what I’m doing wrong.”

“I didn’t really study economics…” Even as he says it, Reiner is reaching for the papers and looking them over. He winces when he sees the score at the top: forty seven percent. Galliard got so close to passing, but not quite there.

“It’s a requirement.” Galliard has his arms crossed over his chest and his chin thrust out, looking both angry and desperate at the same time. “So even if I fail it, I have to take it again. And I can’t fail it.”