Dear Diary

Dear Diary: Sixteen

Levi's Point of View: Ryoko4848/Rmellis

Sidetracked from the actual reason why I'd threw a pen his direction, I held in a breath. His glossy, forest green eyes showed nothing but fear when locking with my own, his body stiff in his chair. Too lost in his exquisite, captivating looks, I found my mouth open agape like an idiot.

"...nothing. Nothing at all." I finally answer his given question. "Eren, was it?" I ask, my mouth moving far more quicker then my brain. "It seem's my pencil escaped from my grip and has taken a liking into you." I mused.

Reaching in for the blunt pencil, I lean in over his shoulder for it. My chest leaning against his broad shoulder and his hair stroking my cheek, I slowly wrap my fingers around it. My finger's skimming across his paper as I do so.

"What's this?" I question, the question being more for myself then him.

Twirling my pencil around my index and middle finger, I let off a thinking grunt when studying his work. A blonde to the side of me had stopped his work, looking stunned, and eyed us with caution; him obviously being a friend of some sort to Eren. His pencil was gradually slipping from his grip, though his was oblivious to this when his bright blue eyes just stared our way.

"Yes? Is there something you want?" I suddenly ask, my head snapping over to him. "Is there something stuck in your throat?" I groan, his wide mouth instantly shutting. "Now, I'll ask one more time; Is. There. Something. You. Want?"

Shaking his head, he lowers his gaze. "No," he murmurs, looking away.

Frowning and tutting his way, I turn my attention back to Eren's work beneath us. Moving my hand out, I slide my hand under the paper and observe the doodles and neatly written writing on the sheet they've been given to do. The only thing, though, in which caught my attention, being the fact most answer's he'd bothered to write down, were all wrong.

I couldn't quite tell if he'd done it on purpose, if he'd not bothered and copied another person's work, or he just couldn't tell — but whatever the reason — if he carried on like this he'd for sure fail.

"Here," I say quietly, bring my pencil down to his piece of paper. "What is an equator?" I read out was was put down on the question sheet. "You've put nothing but doodles," I point out. Reading back through the question, I find myself explaining away the facts and answers to him. "An equator is a line drawn on the earth, a distant away from the poles. 

"The poles being here and here, from North to South." I begin explaining, a small sketch scribbled out at the bottom of his page. "It divides the northern and southern hemisphere, which is half of the Earth, and is apart of the parallel line seen going across the Earth on this map here, you see?" 

Writing down some notes without thinking, I bullet pointed a load of keywords for him. "All they ask is for you to draw a sketch and colour note it out, so using my drawing at the bottom and narrowing the words to the right place, you'll have your answer in no time."

Stretching away from him, my eyes scanning my work, I nod proudly and look across to him. With a hand on his shoulder and my eyes narrowed down at him, I send him a puzzled, yet concerned glare.

"I don't know if you're doing this on purpose and not listening to the teacher, or if you literally don't understand; but if you don't get your game up, you're going to fail your end of year tests and have to reset it." I told him in boredom. 

"I don't really care if you do or don't pass, but I've never met a such a brat that all he does is spend his time drawing then learning, unless this is for some art-class, I'm to know about?" Not waiting for a reply, I shrugged. "If you need any help, say so. I have nothing better to do, so give us a shout."

And, without another word said, I patted his shoulder and reluctantly left his side back to my chair, awaiting to see if I'd get a call of help from him anytime soon.