𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍•ᵉ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

28 ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉˡʸ, ᵉ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍

𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒. If I plan on living past 22, I want to be doing cool shit—not looking at autopsies of decapitated women. I only chose this because my mom thought she could see me doing this as a professional job years from now. Whatever vision she had of me becoming some hotshot detective is long gone. Now, I'm just trying to get through this semester without losing my mind.

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a harsh glare on the sterile classroom. I lean back in my chair, feigning interest in the professor's monotonous voice as he drones on about forensic analysis. My mind wanders, despite my best efforts to focus. All I can think about is Y/N.

It's been two months since everything went to shit, and not a day goes by that I don't regret the way I handled things. The video of me and Historia was supposed to be harmless—a stupid, drunken moment at a party that I didn't even think would get posted. But now? It's like a dark cloud looming over me, suffocating every other thought. I was out of it that day, I bought off Connie, he must've gave me more than what I asked for. I can't even bear to see Y/N's name pop up on my phone, let alone the thought of facing her again.

I didn't even remember touching Historia until I saw that video and to be honest; I don't think she remembered either. Ymir, Historias "girlfriend", and Historia herself, scowl at me every time they see me now.

The classroom starts to fade into the background as I think about Y/N. I miss her laugh, the way her eyes would light up when she got excited about something. I miss the little teasing comments she'd throw my way, how she made everything feel more vibrant. And now, with the distance, it feels like I've lost a piece of myself.

God, I fucked up.. so damn badly.

"Eren, are you even listening?" My professor's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I blink back to reality. The whole class is looking at me, and I feel heat rush to my cheeks. Great, just what I needed.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. I can feel the stares of my classmates boring into me, the judgment palpable. I can practically hear them whispering about me.

"Then why don't you tell us what the effects of blunt force trauma are on the cranial structure?" he challenges, his tone clipped and unimpressed.

"Honestly? I'd rather not," I shoot back, earning a few chuckles from the back of the room. My defiance only earns me a stern glare from the professor, but I don't care. I'd much rather deal with his wrath than dive into another gruesome topic.

As the lecture drags on, my thoughts drift back to Y/N. I wonder what she's doing right now. Probably avoiding me like the plague. I've thought about reaching out, but what would I even say? "Hey, I know I fucked up, but can we go back to the way things were?" It sounds pathetic, even in my head.

I can't shake the feeling that I've ruined everything. I replay the moment I saw her face when she saw me that Tuesday, the shock and disappointment etched into her features. I should have known how she'd react. I should have considered the fallout.

The lecture finally ends, and I gather my things, moving to the door in a daze. I step out into the warm hallway air, letting it clear my head a bit. I should probably hit the gym or something to blow off steam, but all I want to do is go home and sulk.