my green

021 : unconditional love

ac: aot_hd

songs: drunk in LA- beach
house, dealer- lana del rey,
girl- salvia palth.

eren has enough credits to graduate. he has a little above average gpa that will allow him to walk across the ceremonial stage and earn cheers from carla.

hange zoe congratulates him with a weak hand shake, a smile, taunts him with a form he needs to have his teachers sign to complete the graduation checklist, and then that'd be it; he'd be able to bid high school goodbye and what ever drama attached itself to his backside.

they say, "what are your plans after high school, after this?" their glasses rest lazily on their hooked nose, threatening to slip, they notice his healing wounds—on his lip, knuckle, and a bruise on his cheek—they scoff and cautiously chuckle.

eren raises his eyebrows, confused, "what is so funny? i don't have any plans."

"nothing at all?" they insist.

he shakes his head, drops his eyesight to his lap where he notices that his knee bounces uncontrollably, "didn't see myself getting this far." eren shrugs, "so i never thought about what i'd do after graduation."

which is everything that his truth holds. eren, did not see himself living after high school. he did not see himself with a future—in his mind he was not to make it past eighteen, it was the destiny he had chosen for himself.

now, as he sits across his counselor in an oak chair, he fathoms the fabrication of everything.

he begins at the very tips of his fingers, the prints, how they swirl and never intersect with each other. he moves to his palms, where the prints do transverse paths and form lines. his wrists, where veins taut his skin and are blue beneath the flesh. he sees his forearms, scars that tell a trillion stories, but the real ones.

as odd as it sounds, he can feel his blood surge through his body. his heart, it's so steady, yet loud and he wonders if hange could make out the sound in the silence of their office. the hair across his limb rises in an ever so chilling way, it's almost paranormal.

eren is a combination of two people, a mosaic of many, but despite this, he's still his own creation. only now, does he realize that he's living long enough to tell people that he is this construct of many and still his own work.

"you can go into boxing," they break the silence with a silly joke. "you know, given that you are bruised and shit."

"oh, haha, very funny—"

"between us two, did you win?"

"god, can i just get that form and leave now?" he rolls his eyes and lifts a hand out to hange.

"only if you promise me to not walk in the wrong direction after graduation," something he's sure he can accomplish.

"i promise i'll continue down the path i am on now," with the exception of taking a short cut, which will grant him the courage to speak his truths to you.

"that'll do it for me," they slap the pink slip on the wooden desk, they signal him away with shoo and eren stands. "send that lovely lady-friend of yours in here, i'm very impressed with her."

"she's a delight," a mutter to himself and the chair scratches against the tiled floor.

eren is glad that you're far better than him, this means you'll keep him in line forever and hopefully it'll help him gather everything he's good at and make something good out of it.