Dear Diary: Fifteen

2.5K 194 18
                                    

Eren's Point of View: -otaku-trash-

Rolling my eyes, I glared down at my paper as a student walked in — I recognized him, but we hadn't officially met yet — and he seated himself behind me. Before he sat down, I hurriedly observed his features: his raven hair was silkily rested upon his head, his black bangs clung to his forehead ever-so-slightly; his skin was pale, yet somehow it suited him; he had grey eyes that sharply glanced around the room and his lips were parted as he steadily inhaled and exhaled. 

I bit the inside of my cheek, hearing the screech of the chair as he sat down, and I jumped up a bit in fright. I shook off the feeling, and found myself scribbling a few notes into my book but they weren't anything relevant to the lesson at all. 

My mind had been clouded with uncertainty; I felt my lungs burn as I took a deep breath to calm myself. I felt a pair of eyes fall upon the back of my head, which made me fidget within my chair. 

Armin's blonde hair was in my eyes vision and I stared at the blonde locks, but didn't feel any satisfaction from staring at the sea of yellow. Well, obviously I wouldn't... that would make me sound like a weirdo that's for sure. 

I grew agitated when the lesson wouldn't hurry up — the teacher wasn't particularly paying attention to the lesson, rather she simply sipped from her warm drink and put all of her attention on her laptop screen. 

Oftentimes I closed my eyes and felt myself drift into deep thought, recalling parts of my past. However, that wasn't a place I would like to remember. In fact... I would rather avoid it all together.

My thoughts were riding the surface of my mind; my thoughts being the destructive waves, whilst my actual mind being the decaying cliff. Wonderful, I know. 

I hit my feet against each other growing extremely bored as each second ticked by, as each minute felt like hours. Time seemed to slow down every-time I thought the lesson was almost over. I swallowed thickly, my throat slightly hurting whilst I let an exasperated sigh escape my parted lips. 

As if out of nowhere, a pencil flew past my ear and skimmed the edge of my skin. I jolted in my seat, knowing too well whom it had come from. Footsteps entered my ears, and the raven haired male stood in front of me — his expression? Pissed. I gulped as his words flew out of his lips: "Gotcha" 

My hands trembled, and I choked a few words out. "What do you m-mean?" I asked, not sure if I particularly wanted to know the answer to that.

Dear DiaryWhere stories live. Discover now