Great Descendant || Attack on Titan x Reader

22 || Chamomile Tea

His bony, pale fingers slowly turned into a reddish hue from gripping too hard on the quill pens. Sweats made his skin glisten even under the dim light, slightly trailing down to his neck, but he didn't mind any of that. The hankie he put on the right side of the ink bottle was mostly used to clean his hand, not wanting the ink on his skin to stain the pristine parchment.

Blonde strands fell to the side of his face like a curtain, clouding his view from the report that he had to finish. He realised that his hair was outgrown, and it irritated him since he had to tuck his hair behind the ears once in a while. The length was tolerable, not that short but also not too long, but that was the thing that annoyed him — he couldn't tie it up.

He was too laser-focused on the task, not even going out of his room ever since breakfast. If Mikasa didn't knock on his door and give him a couple of bread and soup, he probably wouldn't eat anything for the whole day. The only edible thing inside his room now was a cup of tea that you brought him this afternoon, and he only drank it twice.

Chamomile tea wafted through his nose the second he opened the door with you right behind it. A gentle, dazzling smile on your face as both hands carefully held the tray, was a sight for sore eyes indeed after hours of looking at parchments and ink. The reason ‌he didn't want to finish his drink was mainly that he loved the lingering scent, one that now would remind him of you.

Armin made a mental note to ask you about the brand of the tea, but maybe not too straightforward since he wanted you to brew a cup for him and not just give him a box of it instead. Now when he thought about it, you always infiltrated his mind, too often to his liking, since he knew he was supposed to finish this report anytime soon. Especially since tomorrow he and the rest of the new Special Operation Squad had to go somewhere.

His ocean orbs darted towards the ticking clock on the wall. Two hours, he had to finish this off before eight since he needed to get enough rest. By now, his friends were probably inside the mess hall, having dinner together as they bantered and enjoyed each other's company. The image of it made him frown, wanting to be there too, but alas, his duty came first.

A sudden knock on the door surprised him, and he wanted to shout something so the person would leave him alone. Maybe saying stuff that he was busy or he would come out later since he was in the middle of writing a report. But before he could say anything, your words rang first to cut the air.

"Dinner is served, Mr Arlert!"

He instantly stored the quill pen, standing up from the wooden chair at the same time he felt his heart leap from his chest. Truthfully, he didn't know when he considered your existence so important to him. Sure, he had considered you as a dear friend ever since that day you paddled towards him with two loaves of bread in your hands, but for him to notice a lot of things about you was considerably new.

"(Y/n), you know you don't have to." His eyebrows were slightly furrowed as he opened the door. Now seeing you in all your glory with the same tray from this afternoon. "I will join everyone soon, I just have to finish this—"

"That's what you said before." You strode inside once he made way for you, humming softly as your eyes wandered around the room, wanting to see where you should put the tray down. "Let me put this on the bedside table. Don't want to interrupt your work there, am I right?"

"Oh, yes, thank you." Fiddling with his fingers, he awkwardly stood near the door, just looking (more like admiring) at your figure as you set the tray. "I can take it back to the kitchen later. You can go back to the others, (Y/n)." You slowly straightened your posture before turning to face him, and he felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw the death stare in your eyes.