Ribs (Armin Arlert x Reader)

2 :: Lover's Spit Left On Repeat

It was Saturday afternoon, roughly around two or three, and you had been in the library with your nose in books, writing furiously in your notebook until your knuckles went white, and shallowly bobbing your head to the music that played in your wireless earplugs.

You often used music when studying. Many teachers throughout your schooling constantly stressed the "negative effects" of studying with music, such as it being counterproductive, but this was the only way you could even bring yourself to pay attention when studying. Pure silence gave way to tempt distraction more often.

The steady beat of your music, however, didn't drown out the dinging from your phone notifying a text message. Without a second thought, you picked up your phone to respond and take it as an opportunity to break away from your work for a moment.

Pieck:

"Hey, are you still coming to the party tonight? It starts around 9."

It was Pieck. You honestly had forgotten for a moment about your newfound friend as you weren't quite used to the feeling. However, you had remembered considering the gracious offer yesterday after returning to your dorm and definitely considered it.

Pieck:

"I'm going to guess you don't have anything to wear, so I'll bring some stuff over too."

"Also, what kind of products or styling tools do you use for your hair? Maybe I can pick something up for you if you need it? What about makeup, you got any?"

For someone you had only become acquainted with yesterday, she was too sweet to you. Not sweet enough to make you nauseous like the people in high school with that glint of malice behind their eyes when they'd falsely gleam at you. People who treated you like a charity case made you sick. No, Pieck was genuine.

Me:

"Thanks, but I think I'll skip this one. I just kind of want to focus on school right now, but I'm free tomorrow if you want to hang out?"

Pieck:

"No problem. I'm also free tomorrow, so that works."

You double tap on Pieck's message and a little heart pops up attached to it, letting her know you're down. About a good forty five minutes pass with your pen scratching letters into your notebook, finally feeling like you're no longer drowning as you see the number of assignments go down. You had studied for your morning lecture test by now, despite it being at the end of the week, but you were still finding it difficult to wrap your head around. Mathematical functions were never your strong suit.

Another message from Pieck makes your phone ding.

Pieck:

"There's a free cooking class tomorrow at this new Italian place. It's a little far from campus but I'm sure I can get someone to lend us their car."

You stare down at your phone for a solid minute, the bluelight glaring in the reflection of your weary eyes. Sure, cooking seemed nice, but it had never really been up your ally. You could make a few simple healthy dishes like salmon and asparagus, but even then you forced yourself to learn so you wouldn't gorge on fast food fries drowning in three week old frying oil.

You set down your phone on your science textbook before furiously tapping away at the keys on your laptop. It was October, and your favorite holiday was only a week and a half away. There had to be some sort of Halloween themed events this early; it was normal growing up in the city at least.

Me:

"Do you like haunted houses?"

Pieck: