*?? EREN JAEGER X READER
When you're paired with Eren Jaeger for a semester-long psych project on vulnerability, you expect awkward silences, not slow-burning tension and quiet moments that say more than words ever could. He's distant but not cruel...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
IT HAD STARTED AS LAUGHTER.
The kind that caught in your throat and made your shoulders shake, infectious and warm. The kind that felt earned. Sasha had just finished some ridiculous story about Connie's latest gym mishap, and Historia was wiping away a tear as Ymir mimed his panicked face, both of them nearly in tears.
And yet, even then, you felt it. That absence.
Eren hadn't laughed.
Not once.
You glanced sideways, past Jean's steady grin and the press of his shoulder against yours, past Armin's soft hum of a response, toward the end of the table, and back to your side. Eren sat half-turned away from the rest of the group, elbow perched on the table, knuckles grazing his mouth as if in thought. His eyes weren't on anyone. Not even Mikasa, who leaned back in her seat next to him, arms folded, expression unreadable.
He'd been quiet all night, sure, but this wasn't the usual quiet. This wasn't the careful kind of silence you were starting to recognize in him, the one that wrapped around his words like gauze, cautious but intentional.
This was something else. Distant. Faintly hollow.
His glass was nearly empty. You couldn't remember how many drinks he'd had, exactly, but it was more than you'd seen him touch before. Enough that his shoulders had dropped slightly, the tension slipping, but not in a relaxed way. In a way that felt more like unraveling.
You nudged Jean's arm gently. "Be right back."
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. Just dipped his head in acknowledgment and moved his arm from the back of your seat.
You stood, pushing your chair in quietly.
That's when Eren stood, too.
You watched him take a breath, then set his napkin down beside his plate, movements slow and too careful. As if he'd practiced them. Then he turned and walked away from the table without saying anything to anyone.
Not even Mikasa.
She glanced up as he moved, but didn't follow.
You did.
You slipped between tables, murmured a quick "excuse me" to a server, and pushed through the door he had walked through moments earlier.
The restaurant's side patio was dim and mostly empty. A few smokers stood in the far corner, murmuring to each other under a low yellow light, but otherwise, it was quiet. The cold air kissed your skin immediately, cutting through the warmth you'd left behind, and you crossed your arms out of instinct.
Eren stood just past the awning, near the brick wall that bordered the alleyway. One hand was braced against it. The other curled around the edge of his shirt, his fingers flexing faintly.
