Striking Back at the Veins (An Eremin Fanfiction) [SNK/AOT AU]

Chapter 4 - A Ghost From Hell

"DON'T KILL EACH OTHER!" Mikasa yelled from the sidelines over the sticky taped-up ropes surrounding the fighting arena.

"Awww Mikasa that's no fun, it's only a few weeks till world's and we need to practise." Armin whined over me in his choking hold. I chuckled and tapped him on the arm signalling that he won the round as he released his grasp.

"I don't think you need to worry that much dude, you're better at self-defense than anyone in the team." I acknowledged giving Armin a cheeky smile. Armin laughed shyly blushing so hard that his face became as red as a tomato.

"Eren's right Armin, you could give me a run for my money." Mikasa genuinely said passing Armin and I towels and water bottles.

"Thanks guys I really appreciate it." I vaulted over the ring and held the ropes open for Armin to get out. We jumped off the elevated platform and made our way to the showers to wash ourselves off. Being best friends and living with each other meant that seeing each other shirtless in just our underwear was a comfortable habit but I still couldn't get over how nice and toned Armin's body was and butterflies ended up filling me from head to toe every time I looked.

Armin trained for hours everyday, more so with world's coming up. He was very committed to his martial arts, sometimes he wouldn't sleep, spending his time researching into his opponent's weaknesses and strengths. The light glistening off his body made him nothing short of a model in my eyes. I lifted my shirt off and jumped into the shower next to him. We turned on the water simultaneously from the panels beside us and let the warm refreshing water cleanse us. I looked over at Armin who had his eyes closed with a slight grin on his face as he took out his ponytail and let the water run down his neck and body soaking his hair down to his shoulders. He was so beautiful when he was at peace.

"What?" I asked.

"Hm? Oh nothing just enjoying the water." I nodded and closed my eyes to do the same. My sense of hearing was enlightened with the splash of the water on the tiled ground and the sudden footsteps coming towards me. I opened my eyes and looked to my side to see Armin tenderly looking at spot on my chest.

"Did I do that?" I looked down at my chest where we was pointing and found a purplish-black mark where Armin had kicked while we were sparring.

"Don't worry about it, it doesn't hurt or anything." He traced his finger on it gently causing me to slightly wince in pain. I bit my lip trying to muffle the hiss as I didn't want the concerned boy to worry. He looked up towards my face biting his own lip and carefully hugged me making sure that he was not touching the area of pain.

"Hey, I said don't worry about it, really. It's part of the art, we all get hurt at some point." I tried to assure him. I stroked his hair to try and make him feel better. His breath spilled into my shoulder and then lowered towards my chest. He pressed his lips against the mark. It was slow yet soft and gentle making my whole body tingle with warmth. My heart started to race.

He lifted himself so that he our faces were under the same stream from the shower head.

"It doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt. I'm getting an ice-pack for you." He ran his hands over the panel to turn his water off and made his way out of the shower room leaving me standing there under the water breath-taken.

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The last thing I wanted when I walked through the door was to be bombarded with questions. My mentally unstable and drowsy condition could not cope with it at that moment. But my mother was insistent on asking why I came home so early. It wasn't that early, only about twelve so I didn't understand what she was going on about. Though I loved how kind and caring she was, I just wanted to collapse and forget the night had ever happened. I pulled out of her tight grasp when she noticed a scar running down my lip. She squished my cheeks together to get a closer look which made the cut sting and start bleeding the bad memories again. I pried at her hands to let go.