Chapter 3
Eren sat on the edge of his bed, one foot tapping restlessly against the wooden floor as he absentmindedly spun a safari guide hat between his hands. His room was dimly lit by the dull glow bedside lamp, casting long shadows against the walls. Across from him, Armin sat cross-legged on the floor, sifting through a bag of cheap jungle decorations for the upcoming frat party. The rustling of plastic vines and crinkling of packaging filled the silence, but Eren barely heard it. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on something he couldn't quite shake.
"So, we're thinking jungle vines for the walls, maybe some animal cutouts or whatever," Armin mumbled, more to himself than Eren as he pulled out a string of fake ivy. He paused when he noticed the lack of response. "You okay?"
Eren exhaled sharply through his nose, dropping the hat beside him. "Yeah"
"You don't sound good."
Eren let the hat fall onto his bed with a soft thump, dragging his hand down his face. He debated for a second whether he should even say anything. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned forward, resting one elbow on his knee and using this to keep his head up. "I saw her."
Armin didn't need clarification.
"When?"
"A couple hours ago. She was with Jean. Arguing."
Armin winced. "Bad?"
Eren let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh yeah. Real bad." His fingers tapped against his knee. "I didn't hear all of it, just enough to get the gist. And then... she came out. Crying." His voice dipped lower at the last word like he almost didn't want to admit it out loud.
Armin set the decorations down, giving Eren his full attention now. "What was it about this time?"
"Her."
"Her?"
Eren shot him a look. "You know who."
Armin pressed his lips together, unsurprised, and nodded slowly for Eren to continue with the details.
"Then it got worse. Voices raised and shit like that. She called him out, he got defensive. Same shit as always." He groaned. "Then she came out of his room."
"What did you do?"
Eren shook his head again, more at himself than at Armin. "Nothing."
Armin frowned. "Nothing?"
"I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do? She looked at me like she didn't even see me. Like she was just trying to get the hell out of there. I thought for a second...I don't know. She looked so—" He stopped himself before the word broken could leave his mouth. Instead, he clenched his jaw. "I thought maybe I should say something. Do something."
"But you didn't."
Eren let out another humorless laugh, running both hands through his hair. "Nope. Just stood there like an idiot while she walked right past me."
Armin watched him for a long moment like he was piecing something together. Then, slowly, he asked, "And how did that make you feel?"
Eren shot him a flat look. "Don't psychoanalyze me right now dude."
"I'm serious."
Eren opened his mouth to brush it off, to say I don't know or who cares, but the words didn't come out. Instead, his jaw tightened, his fingers flexing against his knees.
Because the truth was, it did bother him.
It bothered him because you'd been crying. It bothered him that you looked so shaken, so wrecked and that he hadn't done a damn thing about it. And most of all, it bothered him that for the first time maybe, he hadn't seen you as Jean's girlfriend.
He just saw you.
And he fucking hated it.
A week had passed and for the first time in a long time, you disappeared.
At least before, you had some kind of presence—something for people to latch onto, even if it was small. A scenic picture on your Instagram story from one of your solo walks around campus or the town nearby because it was filled with historic buildings. A repost from Hitch's story when you, her, and Annie went out for drinks or got food.
But now? Nothing.
No new posts, no stories, no updates. It was like you had been wiped clean off the grid overnight.
Eren noticed before he even realized he was noticing.
At first, it was passive—a casual scroll through Instagram while lying on his bed, thumb moving until it hit the family ring around your profile. Only this time, it was empty.
Weird, because he swore he saw you in the background of one of Hitch's stories.
But then one day turned into two. Two turned into five. The week dragged on, and still nothing.
That's when it started nagging at him. Because sure, you weren't the most online person, but you were off either. You existed in the background of social media, a quiet presence but still there. This? This was something else.
It wasn't his place to care. That's what he told himself. It wasn't like the two of you were on the level where checking in made sense. You weren't close like that—not in the way that would make it normal for him to text you out of nowhere and ask hey, you good?
Because you weren't really friends, were you?
Eren found himself opening Instagram more often than usual, flicking through Hitch's stories, Annie's, even Jean's and that alone made him feel like an idiot. Pictures of the two of you still covered his profile. Eren wasn't sure what he was expecting.
He was such a fucking weirdo—
(Y/n): What time is the party?
His brows shot up. He blinked, rereading the text like it was some kind of trick.
The last time he'd seen you, you were storming out of Jean's room, tears in your eyes, looking like the last place you wanted to be was anywhere near that frat house. And now you were asking about the party?
Eren: Who's this?
You had gone full ghost mode on everyone, and he wasn't about to just let that slide. You responded almost immediately.
(Y/n): It's your favorite person.
Eren smirked, already feeling the usual rhythm of your conversations coming back.
Eren: Ohhh shit Mikasa? Damn, never thought I'd see the day you'd text me first.
About five minutes passed before the typing bubbles appeared.
(Y/n): Are you going to tell me when the party is or not?
Eren: 10. But for you doors close at 9:59. No late entries. House rules.
(Y/n): Wow how tragic. Guess I'll just have to stay in then.
Eren: Damn and here I was about to put your name on the VIP list.
(Y/n): VIP list?
Eren: Yeah, it's just you and Connie's emotional support beer hat.
(Y/n): I feel so honored.
Eren: You should. I don't just let anyone into my parties.
(Y/n):You literally let Floch in.
Eren:Okay, first of all, that’s on Jean. He keeps vouching for the guy. If it were up to me, he would’ve been banned months ago..
He waited for a response, but this time, nothing came right away. For a second, he wondered if maybe you'd change your mind. How stupid could he be to bring up Mikasa's name during this time?
(Y/n): I'll be there.
Eren stared at the message for a moment, something unreadable flickering through his chest.
Eren: Good. I'd have to have to send out a search party for you.
You stood in front of your closet, arms crossed, eyes scanning over the countless outfits hanging in front of you. Nothing looked right. Everything felt either too casual or too try-hard, and for some reason, you cared. Which was stupid.
You shouldn't care.
Behind you, Hitch was sprawled across your bed, legs bent at the knee, scrolling through her phone while twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. Annie sat stiffly in your desk chair, arms crossed, gaze locked onto you like she was trying to dissect you, her usual unimpressed expression somehow even sharper than usual.
"I think you should stay home tonight," Annie said, breaking the silence. "We only went to his stupid ass parties because you were dating the co-host."
You let out a sharp exhale, shifting your weight onto one foot, and your voice unsure even to your own ears. "We're still dating.. we didn't actually say the words. I don't fucking know. I just want to go, okay?"
Annie sighed, shaking her head slightly, "Look, (Y/n) I'm not supporting this. You're being stupid, and it's clearly over. So, I don't get why you're doing this?"
You clenched your jaw, grabbing a random top from the hanger and holding it up in front of you just to have something to do. "I just want to get drunk and party, okay?"
Annie scoffed. "Right. Because that's all this is about. Getting drunk."
Hitch groaned dramatically, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't want to show up looking hot as hell and rub it in a certain someone's face?" She tilted her head playfully and paused for a second, almost uncertain of her choice of words. "But babe, let's be real here. Do you actually want to move on, or are you just trying to prove a point?"
Your hands stilled for a moment on a hanger before you scoffed and pulled out a different top. "I'm not proving anything. I just—" You hesitated, jaw clenching once more. "I just want to feel normal again, I want to be fun. And if that means drinking a little too much and dancing with my friends, then so be it."
Hitch rolled her eyes but sat up straighter, her tone shifting slightly and her facial expression softening. It was so out of place for her to be unnecessarily nice. "Okay, but let's actually talk about it for a sec. You were with Jean for three years! You loved him, gave him everything, and were so weirdly patient with him about the whole Mikasa situation for as long as we've known you've been together. It was ridiculous how patient you were."
Annie didn't say anything, but you could tell by the way her gaze sharpened, she agreed.
You huffed, "I know Hitch—fuck don't you think I know?!"
"I'm not saying you're stupid babe, but I think it's kind of insane that you've spent all this time worrying about Jean's feelings when the whole time, he was still hooked on a girl who wouldn't give him the time of day."
Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, and you glanced down at the fabric resting on your palm. "I don't think it's that simple.
"Isn't it?" Hitch protested. "I mean, I get why you're pissed. Why you're hurt. But, you were loyal. You gave everything to that relationship. Meanwhile, he spent all his time trying to get over someone else. So why the hell are you the one feeling guilty."
The weight of her words settled heavily on you, pressing into your chest like a vice. You swallowed, suddenly feeling warm under their stares.
Annie finally spoke, voice quieter but firm. “You’re allowed to be angry, you know.”
"I don't want to be angry, Annie. I just wanted to be loved."
The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and broken. You felt your heart sink to your stomach, and the damn you had been holding back for days finally cracked wide open. A sob tore from your throat as you sank onto the floor, curling in on yourself as the weight of everything crashed down on you.
Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, soaking your cheeks as you desperately tried to wipe them away with trembling hands. It was useless. They just kept coming, spilling over in waves, as if making up for all the times you swallowed them back and forced yourself to be strong.
Annie and Hitch didn't hesitate. In an instant, they were on the floor beside you, arms wrapping around you tightly. Annie, who rarely ever showed affection, ran a steady hand up and down your back while Hitch hugged you like she was trying to hold you together.
"You are loved," Hitch whispered, her voice softer than you had ever heard it. "So much."
Annie didn't say anything—she didn't know what to say. But the way she held you; firm and unwavering was enough.
You weren't sure how long you sat there, curled between your two best friends, letting yourself cry it all out. But at some point between the quiet reassurances and the steady warmth of their presence, something inside you shifted.
Going to that party tonight wasn't going to fix anything. You clearly weren't ready. Showing up with a forced smile, pretending you were okay when you weren't, pretending you felt enough when you didn't—it would've been humiliating. So instead, you let out a shaley breath and whispered, "I think I'm gonna stay in tonight." You let out a watery laugh, burying your face into Hitch's shoulder as Annie muttered something about how you 'better not snot of my shirt.'
You definitely made the right choice.
Hours passed, the once suffocating weight on your chest easing just a little with the warmth of your friends around you. You had spent the evening curled up on the couch with Annie and Hitch, watching some mindless reality TV show, indulging in takeout, and letting yourself just exist without pretending to be okay.
It felt good.
It felt safe.
The three of you had sprawled out lazily, the earlier tension now replaced with comfortable silence.
Then, your phone buzzed.
You almost ignored it, assuming it was another pity text from someone who had heard whispered about your failed relationship with Jean. But when you glanced at the screen, your stomach flipped.
Eren: Yo, where you @?
You blinked. What the hell?
Eren: Don't tell me you actually got eaten by a lion. I knew we should've given you a weapon for protection.
A small unexpected smile tugged at your lips. Of course, Eren couldn't just ask a normal question. You hovered over your keyboard, debating how to respond.
(Y/n): I fought the lion. Didn't make it out, mb.
You could practically hear his obnoxious laugh through the screen.
Eren: RIP ig.. I'll have to pour one out for you.
There was a pause, then another text.
Eren: Fr tho, wya?
Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard. You weren't expecting a message from Eren. Especially to ask your location status for the party. It caught you off guard.
(Y/n): I'm not going, Yeager bomb.
The read receipt popped up almost instantly, but for once, no immediate response followed which surprised you. Eren was never one to leave a conversation hanging—at least with you. He was always quick to hit you with a joke or comeback.
And yet, minutes passed. After a while, you got bored and set your phone back on the table then—
Eren: Damn
One word, just that.
You didn't expect him to care so much. It was odd, you weren't really friends to begin with. He was always Jean's friend, someone you hung out with only because of their parties.
Another message popped up before you could figure it out.
Eren: Thought you wanted to get drunk and party?
(Y/n): I changed my mind.
Your stomach twisted. You wouldn't tell Eren, but you weren't ready to pretend to be okay. Not in that house, not around Jean, not when the wound was still fresh.
Eren: Damn, guess I'll just have to suffer through this party alone. Hope you're happy ho.
(Y/n): Very much.
A pause.
(Y/n): Whore.
Eren barely had time to process his own thoughts when his door suddenly burst open, nearly flying off its damn hinges.
"Yo, what the hell man?" Reiner barked, eyes immediately narrowing when he saw Eren hunched over his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen like he was still waiting for a message that wasn't coming. "Why the hell are you up here? The party's already wild, and you're what—hiding?"
Bertholdt, peeking in from behind Reiner, looked equally as confused. "Yeah, we figured you'd be drinking upside down from the keg again or, I don't know, getting some from a random chick you spotted in the crowd."
Eren groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at them. "Fuck you guys, I'm not hiding. I was just—"
"What? Fucking texting?" Reiner scoffed, eyeing Eren's phone. "Since when do you sit in your room texting during a party."
Eren scowled. "Since you two decided to be up my ass instead of letting me—"
Armin suddenly appeared behind them, looking annoyed. "Guy's, just let him be."
But Eren was already snapping.
"Out." His voice was sharp, eyes flicking between Reiner and Bertholdt. "Both of you. Get the fuck out."
Berhtoldt held his hands up to surrender. There were only a number of times where Eren would talk to him that way and most of them included him walking in on Eren and some rando. "Damn, okay-okay. We're going." Reiner raised a brow, stepping back toward the door and muttering something Eren couldn't quite catch before disappearing down the hall and into the crowd of people.
The moment they were gone, Eren let out a heavy sigh, his head falling back against the wall. Armin shut the door, crossing his arms as he turned to face him with an annoyed look on his face which at this point, wasn't unusual for Eren to be a victim of.
"Alright," Armin said, his voice laced with something between amusement and concern. "What's up with you?" Armin watched Eren carefully, noting the way his fingers tapped restlessly against his phone screen. He wasn't used to seeing Eren so bothered.
"She's not coming."
"Who?" Armin blinked, confused if he was talking about Mikasa who agreed it would be best to be anywhere else but where Jean is, or... if he was talking about you.
"She said she was coming earlier. We were joking about it and everything."
Armin sighed, settling against Eren's desk. "Why do you think? Seriously Eren, use your brain. There was no way she was coming here."
Reality hit him. Eren knew that. He knew the second he reached out to text you.
"Did you think she'd be okay seeing him already?" Armin continued, giving Eren a pointed look. "C'mon Eren, that was never going to happen. And why do you care so much?" This question had been on his mind since the day Annie told him Eren stayed with you after you had caught him making out with some girl against the bookshelves and even walked you home.
Eren could only lie, but did he know he was lying? "I don't care. It's just fucking weird."
"What's weird?"
"That she went off the grid, then hits me up, says she's coming then just changes her mind?"
Armin raised a brow. Eren's feelings were always extremely confusing for him to comprehend. "Why does it bother you so much? She's not your girlfriend, she's not avoiding you so what—are you upset?"
Eren shot him a glare, "I never said I was upset."
"But you are."
Eren groaned, running a hand through his hair again. "She's just fun to hang out with. I don't know man." He paused, realizing his choice of words and how Armin might've taken it, and based on his expression, Eren knew he got the wrong idea. "It's not like that."
"Right. You just spent the last fifteen minutes sulking in your room because 'it's not like that.'"
Eren shot him a glare before having the bright idea to toss his phone as Armin who not only managed to not get hit, but also caught the phone before it fell onto the wooden floor. Armin only shook his head, amusement still clear on his face. "I just think it's funny how you're all worked up over Jean's girl."
Eren expression darkened slightly at that, his jaw tensing. "She's not his girl."
"Isn't she?"
Eren didn't answer.
And that told Armin everything he needed to know.