all i ever knew (eren jaeger x fem!oc)

arabella

"Arabella Baudin."

The world moves slow.

Expressions indicate the history clicking. I pace my breathing.

Marco, sitting across from Jean, looks thoroughly confused by the reactions of his classmates. Jean's brows furrow in an intense stare and he repeatedly pokes Sasha's shoulder in front of him, muttering something I can't hear.

Sasha makes no response and instead sits there with a mixture of dumbfounded and I can't believe I just did that emotions. Her ponytail sways violently as she looks from the back of the room up towards me.

In the back corner, Mikasa lets the smallest of prideful smiles rise on her face. Had I not grown up with her, I would've assumed her fixated glare mean a hatred was brewing. She is ecstatic in the best way she possibly can be.

Residing in the seat a row across and one desk down from where she observes sits Eren. The mention of my full name brings him harshly out of his apathetic stance. Where he was just leaning back with eyes glued lowly to the phone in his hand, treating the plastic chair like a recliner, his stare now flicks up and he shifts forward slowly, deliberately. Reaching both elbows to the top of his desk, his hands lace together in front of his face, concealing his reaction.

Dropping his hands, Eren pulls the airpod from his ear and breaks his stare. He turns to lean over to Armin who sits the next row over, oddly not in front of Mikasa. Coming close, Eren brings his hand up to channel the murmur directly to Armin's ear.

A blush the colour of peach rings fizzes across Armin's cheeks as he lets out a forced snicker to match Eren's own amusement. It's quite evident that Armin didn't want to laugh but rather looked obligated to do so.

Armin's eyes are deep wells reflecting the ocean's abyss. Where Mikasa saw a ghost, Armin reacts as if he sees the sun in me. The familiar bone structure of his face protrudes in just the slightest. He's biting his cheek to suppress a genuine smile, a transfixed gaze brings–

"FUCK!" a resounding crash echoes through the room, diverting the awkward attention off of me for a split second.

A desk mangled with a body rams into the floor. Multiple papers and pencils fly into the air followed by rambunctious laughter and students attempting to hide their humour.

Marco leans over the body and states with a condescending, parental tone, "Connie, this is why we don't jump and scream every time something remotely interesting happens."

The laughter continues as Pyxis fakes a shocked expression, narrowing his glasses toward the file he held in his hand. "Oh dear!" he falsifies, "My sincerest apologies young lady." He re-addresses the class with a cough, "Class, this is Ara. Arabella is her full name, but she'd prefer if you called her Ara." He gives me a menacing grin.

This is so humiliating.

But what would be more humiliating is showing evidence of that feeling within me. I stand expressionless, attempting my best to show no care toward the events before me.

"Ara, is there anything you'd like to say to the class?" Pyxis opens an arm wide.

"No." Why do they even ask these questions?

"I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!" A hand shoots up from the pile of papers and desk compartments. He really did not grow out of shouting every second sentence.

"Pyxis did not address you, Springer," Ackerman spits, standing with a commanding posture. Oh, he's definitely going to be my favourite.

The desk topples back to its original position with the help of Marco awkwardly using his lanky arms to reach around his own desk. Connie doesn't sit, but stands next to his desk pointing directly at me.