𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 | 𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏 | ✔️

𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮 | 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽

Armin awoke on a crisp Friday morning to the irritating sound of knocking on his front door. He groaned in annoyance as he sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes, trying to ignore how his head was slightly throbbing from a lack of sleep.

He hadn't had a good night's rest, trading sleep for staying up late on the phone with Annie while sitting in a puddle of his tears, problems, and ice cream.

After a few moments of wondering how Annie could put up with him two nights in a row, Armin pushed aside his grogginess and slipped on his pink bunny slippers.

He trudged out of his room to the front door and turned the doorknob, surprised to see that no one was there. He peered out the door, turning his head sideways to see if anyone was near. He then looked below him, noticing a slightly filled plastic bag with a note attached.

Armin picked up the bag cautiously and soon realized it contained clothes. He carefully pulled the note off of the bag, and he inhaled sharply as he read it.

hey armin,
here are the clothes you left at my place a few days ago!
sorry i didn't bring them back sooner.

also, i'm sorry about what happened at mikasa's house yesterday.
it wasn't the time or the place to pick a fight.
it was incredibly inappropriate of me to let my feelings
get the best of me, especially when you were just doing what
was right, which was telling mikasa the truth.

everything you said was true (you're usually right anyway),
and my current goal is to learn from my mistakes and grow as a person.
i hope that when i come back from Germany,
we can become friends again. :)

thank you for everything.

Upon finishing the note, Armin let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The name of the sender was not on the note, but Armin already knew who it was from the handwriting and the note's contents.

Armin walked unsteadily back into his house and closed the door quietly, tossing the plastic bag and note on the floor once he reached his bedroom. As he sank back into bed, he picked up his phone and instantly frowned at his lock screen.

On the screen, Armin and Mikasa, who were about five or six at the time, could be seen building a sandcastle at the beach, cheeks rosy and smiles wide. Behind them was Armin's grandfather, who was holding a young, smiling boy with big, emerald eyes and thick, dark hair on his back.

He was the boy that Armin wished he didn't have to see.

The one who Armin wanted nothing more than to forget about.

Yet everything only seemed to remind Armin more of him.

As Armin made scrambled eggs for himself, he thought of the amazing breakfast that had been prepared for him by the boy whose house he spent the night at just a few days prior. As Armin fell deeper into the abyss of his thoughts, his environment suddenly became suffocating.

After washing up, he went out into town for some fresh air. As he strolled, he saw a woman with handfuls of sunflowers. Armin recalled that when he was younger, he would run through sunflower fields with his childhood best friend. Armin had always been entranced by how the green of his friend's eyes matched that of healthy grass, and he had loved to hear his friend yelling in glee about how sunflowers were his favorites. Tears began to prick at the corners of Armin's eyes at the thought.