Often // Attack On Titan

Chapter 11

•Eren's POV•

I knew that Armin wasn't even related to me, so why did I think I'd have a say in whether or not he'd die? I tapped my pencil against the desk and Connie looked at me tiredly.
"Hurry up so we can leave!" He whispered, urgency tainting his speech. I rolled my eyes and scribbled down a few questions before losing my train of thought again to the main problem. It wasn't fair, I thought, the only person he had was his grandpa and he's too old to care. I stopped myself from thinking that, it was wrong - of course he cared.

Connie fake glared at me and I sighed in defeat and tried to finish the last few questions the best that I could. He had finished over twenty minutes before I had - not surprising since I hadn't been concentrating. I tucked my pen in the inside pocket of my school blazer and stood up, accidentally making my chair screech across the floor. I shuddered at the awkward noise and walked across the room. It smelled like damp wood, unpleasant for a makeshift classroom. I left my work in the class work folder, thanked the teacher and exited with Connie (who was growing impatient by that point).

The wind whistled around us, violently blowing our - well, my - hair around us. The smell of the sea was strong and familiar, such a comforting aroma as we walked past. I blew hair out of my eyes and Connie laughed.
"Guess I don't have to worry about that," he smirked, earning a grin from me.
"I guess not."

[...]

"Why are we in such a hurry?" I groaned, having to run to keep up with Connie. The sky was already pitch black and clouds had started to circle above us like vultures - it was only a few seconds later that the rain began spitting, and then completely transforming into a storm. Connie didn't even seem fazed by it, he just continued to race down the soaking wet path. Water from our shoes splashed back up at us as we ran, leaving our trousers with a complexion that could easily be mistaken for us having had an 'accident'.

As we crashed through the door, dripping wet like dogs, I became aware of every single pair of eyes on us. The diner wasn't loud before we came in, but now it was silenced and even the music seemed to have stopped too. Connie approached a waitress who must have been our age and gave her a pleasant smile.
"Excuse me, but is Sasha here?" He asked and I realised that was probably the reason he had ran.

I sighed against the glass of the smoking shelter and watched as it steamed up around my fingertips. The rain was coming down hard and made loud pinging noises above my head. Connie was still inside trying to persuade the poor girl to get Sasha, and I'd never seen Connie talk so urgently. Talk about desperate. I glided my fingertips against the cool glass and drew a smily face around the 'fog'. I let out a breath of amusement and leaned against the bench.

After a while of staring into the oblivion of my mind, I picked up my phone and called Marco. I hadn't spoken to him recently and he'd taken a bit of time from school since the tests. He didn't answer until after I'd given up and returned my phone to its familiar home of my pocket. 

"Hey, sorry I didn't pick up. My phone's not working right," Marco said, to which I said it was fine.      Silence.                                                                                                                                                                                     He cleared his throat on the other side of phone and I looked at my feet, leaning back against the glass of the shelter. The rain was still coming down but not as hard. "So did you need something?" He asked, making me laugh. Did I really have such a short attention span?                   "Just calling to check how you are." I said, slouching over the metal bench to my right. I glanced to see if Connie was there. Nope.

"Oh I'm fine." He replied, voice muffled by the phone. "Jean's making a big fuss," Marco laughed and I heard grumbling in the 'distance'. I assumed it was the all-famous Jean Kirschtein and shouted a hello down the phone. Marco laughed and Jean shouted back. "I do have ears, you know. I plan to keep them," Marco complained jokingly. I laughed, looking behind me to see Connie exiting the building. He was alone. I didn't end the call, he had wasted my time after all. Instead I enquired about Sasha.                                                                                                                                           "Did something happen between Connie and Sasha?" I asked, pretending not to have seen him. "I don't know what happened but they've been blanking each other for a week now," Marco offered. Connie tapped on the glass and cocked his head to say that we were leaving. I nodded and pointed at the phone.

"I'm have to go, I'll tell you anything if I find anything out." I spoke quietly into the phone. Connie nodded in response as Marco said a goodbye. 

[...]

The rain had stopped. Connie was sulking. It was only Tuesday. I sighed loudly to make sure he knew I wasn't happy about waiting for him. "Least you could do is tell me what kind of mess you made this time," I said, giving a sideward glance. Connie stopped walking and I tilted my head to look at him. He picked up a stone from the floor and threw it straight into the road with so much ferocity that I really believed he'd gone mad. He reached down to pick up another stone again. "Oh I messed it up all right." He growled, shooting it into the bushes on the opposite side of the street. "I made a real fucking mess." He continued. I was surprised he was this pissed off with himself, Connie usually took things lightly - too lightly if anything.

"Are you gonna tell me what you did or not?" I asked, watching his arm move back and extend again. The rock barely missed a car. Connie didn't seem like he wanted to talk but I knew he'd  explode if he didn't. "I did something really selfish," he replied, stopping throwing to let his hands retreat to his pockets. "I tried to-" Connie groaned and hid his face with his hands. He dropped his hands and looked at me, shame plastered over his face. What could he possibly have done? Did he cheat? 

"I tried to make her jealous."