Circles | Eren x Reader

Chapter 43- Cut Deep:

Eren's POV:

After (Y/N) had royally kicked my ass in front of Shadis, we were excused early. I was planning on just walking home with my bleeding hand— after all, it wasn't too unbearable, but she was persistent. As an apology, (Y/N) bought me a Slurpee and we walked to the park so she could fix my hand "properly." As if I couldn't do it any better myself, I thought.

We walked in silence for most of the way. That seemed to be a common theme between the two of us lately. I didn't mind. Sometimes the silence said more than words. I saw her shiver beside me, and thought for a moment to give her my sweatshirt. I decided against it; it was probably too soon.

When we arrived at the little bench that faced (Y/N)'s favorite tree, I remembered the last time I was here with her:

I decided to pay her a visit on my way to the police station. I was so angry. Angry at my dad for leaving, angry with Mikasa for following me everywhere, angry with myself for not believing that he would actually go. I should have noticed. I had seen the look in Grisha's eyes the night before when he had come home from work. There was a resoluteness that I hadn't seen before. He was so selfish. I hated people that were selfish. If it didn't require my family to go through so much shit, I'd say it was better that he'd left. I loathed my mother for still loving a man that wouldn't come back. How could she not see? How could she not understand that he was gone? That he didn't want us anymore? Why couldn't she just throw it all away? She had too much faith in him. She had loved him too much.

As I walked down the street, my hands clenched into fists, I saw from a distance, (Y/N) sitting alone in Shinganshina park. She was staring at a tree intensely, so intensely that it looked like she was in pain. I sighed. Maybe I should pay her a visit. I still needed to thank her for her letter of apology, though I wasn't sure that I deserved it.

When I sat down beside her after saying a quick 'thank you' I finally realized what her eyes were fixated on. There was a poorly carved 'J' written in the tree in front of us.

I wonder if they had carved that together. Then, I realized. No. If they had carved it together there would be a (Y/N) on the tree, too.

Without thinking, I apologized to her about ruining her relationship with Jean. She accepted my apology, but blamed herself for the whole thing. I couldn't understand why. She said it was because Jean had accused her of having feelings for me.

I remembered asking her lamely, "Why didn't you just disagree with what he said? About feelings and stuff? I'm sure he would've forgiven you after that. Jean's a pretty reasonable guy, as much as I hate to admit it."

She never answered. Like I had said before: sometimes the silence says more than words.

I snapped back into reality. I had become so absorbed in my memory that I forgot where we were. Then I remembered: (Y/N) and I were at the park and my hand was still bleeding. I don't want to get into all of the fixing-my-hand stuff— partially because it was uneventful, partially because it was embarrassing. By the end of it, we had started fighting, again, like always.

Once she had finished cleaning my hand up, (Y/N) stood up from the bench abruptly and moved to leave:

"You can go now," she said flatly.

I frowned, "You're joking, right?"

(Y/N), you can't tell me that you seriously brought me all this way just to fix a tiny scratch on my hand.

"Why would I be joking?" she retaliated.

Maybe because you like hanging out with me, I hoped.