Work Text:
"Don't be angry. Please, don't be angry. I can take it from just about anyone, but not you... "
Annie’s frozen, slate blue eyes drilled into his back, like icicles piercing the flesh and bone. A few months back, Armin would’ve grown flowers that reminded him of her irises. When he’d first shown her his blossoming blue star flowers, she smiled. The wind blew through her primrose hair, cracks of sunlight escaping through his maple tree’s leaves lighten up her face.
She was smiling back then. Back when Armin could still tell her about his hobbies, his flower garden, his favourite flowers.
‘’I’m trying not to, Min, but it’s incredibly frustrating when you keep on turning a blind eye on what I say,’’ Annie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. The nose that Armin liked to peck.
‘’I know, Anne, I know. Please. I’m trying. I’m trying so hard, but it’s just not working!’’
When they went shopping for seeds together, Annie pointed out lilies of the Nile. Armin had never planted them before but was willing to give them a shot. As, according to Annie, fairies and elves would start populating his garden because of its liveliness and beauty.
It bloomed gorgeously, blue like a cloudy sky.
‘’Just, wait it out a bit longer, okay? I know the waiting list is long, but you’re set to see a therapist in two months,’’ she squatted down in front of him, too close to that god-forsaken piece of porcelain, betraying his secrets more often than not.
‘’I can’t! I’m sorry…I just can’t,’’ his voice broke down into a whisper at the end. His gaze dropped towards the floor, not daring to look Annie in the eyes, as much as he loved the fierce determination always sparkling inside her pupils.
‘’But why can’t you?’’ she put her hand on his bony shoulder, ‘’I can’t crawl inside of your head, so you’re going to have to help me understand you.’’
That’s the point. As close as they were, there’s no way for Annie to know what it’s like to stand in his shoes. Armin never minded that. In fact, he’s scared she’ll trample on him like a forgotten daisy once she knows.
Once, Annie took his garden boots to paint flowers on them. Sunflowers, daisies, poppies, tulips. They were so typical and ordinary that Armin had to hold back a snicker when she gave them back. But he never washed it off.
‘’I don’t think it’s that easy to explain,’’ he mumbles, snorting snot back up his nostril.
‘’I know but try.’’
He digs through his mind, trying to find the right vocabulary to construct his sentence. It’s not as easy as saying I love you, good morning, good night, or see you tomorrow. Armin himself doesn’t even know. It’s not like he got a guidebook on dealing with his troubles after his cyclamen threw him out.
His life felt like a flower garden struck with irregular, unexpected natural disasters. He’d try to have some control over it- using a different fertilizer, installing sprinklers, buying from a different fabricant- but every season, rain would come down with buckets, ice would freeze the seeds embedded deep into the soil, the sun would cook the leaves. And every season, he’d end up with a rotten garden.
It felt like salt rubbed in a sore wound when he realized his actual flower garden was easier to control than his own life.
‘’...It’s easy to control,’’ he manages out.
‘’What is, Min? You’ve got to specify.’’
‘’This.’’
‘’Mhm, say it with words.’’
Her hand was petting his upper arm now, trailing over the goosebumps, rubbing over the bone. It was lowkey starting to irritate him, as if the longer she runs her fingers over his skin, the quicker his answer will come out. Like a magic spell.
‘’Armin,’’ her voice still held that slight hint of annoyance, a specific tone that shoved knives and spears into his heart.
Annie is mad at me Annie is mad at me Annie is mad at me.
‘’I eat little and vomit my binges up because it’s one of the few things in life I have control over!’’
He didn’t mean to yell it out at such a volume. He didn’t mean to say that much. Hell, he didn’t even know how he blurted it out right here and then. It’s not like his mind is repeating those words like a broken record whenever he breathes.
Annie only nods, her chin bobbing up and down.
‘’Okay. But aren’t there other things that are more controllable? Like your garden?’’
It’s the same conversation they’ve had repeatedly. In the same location, same temperature, same odour, same time of day, same tone of voice, same expressions, same words. And always the same promises, the same ‘I won’t do it again,’ the same ‘I’ll eat dinner tonight,’ the same ‘I’ll go to my doctor.’ I promise. I believe you.
And Armin is so fucking tired of it.
‘’I can’t. For fuck’s sake, wouldn’t I then be doing something other than this? Do you think I’m doing this for fun?’’
He finally raises his head, brows furrowed, eyes filled once again with tears, only these were from pure anger. Annie backs off just an inch but kept her stare focused sternly on him. She opened her lips to speak, but Armin spoke first.
‘’This is my only grip on my life. I can control my portions. I can control the weight I put on or lose. I can control the fat around my stomach. I can control this!’’ he continued, but his confidence was shrinking bit by bit, ‘’No lies. Nothing. The weighing scale doesn’t lie, does it?’’
His voice cracked, and his chin fell back down to his chest again. It was out. Now he had to await Annie’s response.
But she doesn’t even part her lips. She finally sat down, her knees brushing against his. It’s too close again. She can feel the bone. She’ll find out. She can feel the fat. She’ll judge.
‘’If you could only see yourself through my eyes…’’ she mumbles, her tone surprisingly soft compared to all the anger she must be feeling.
Armin doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know what others see in him. His mind on its own is torturing enough, let alone knowing what other people think. Everyone else must be mad at him, frustrated at his eating habits, disgusted at what he does in the bathroom after dinner.
Even if Annie loves him, he can’t trust her. He’ll just be discarded and thrown into the garbage again once she knows each of his dirty secrets.
‘’You’re struggling with even the lightest of meals. Whatever is too much over your minuscule calorie limit, you vomit out,’’ Annie said, and Armin’s cheeks burned red, more tears dripping down, ‘’It’s painful for me to watch it all go down. But it’s even more painful because I know you don’t want to do this.’’
Armin scoffed.
‘’You’re lying.’’
‘’I’m not-’’
‘’You’re fucking lying, Annie!’’ his legs finally mustered up enough strength to stand up, ‘’I… I want this! I want this control! I want it! I want it, no matter the pain!’’
Blood rushed up to his head, at such an immense speed that the edges of his vision faded black, like a pen staying in place for too long, leaving behind a big, black splotch. He had to use the toilet to stand up on both feet, though he tried to avoid the misery he left behind in the bowl.
Annie rose as well and pushed him back down by his shoulders. He barely had any strength as it was, all his muscles deteriorated and rotted away over the months, and was thus promptly sat down on the toilet.
‘’Armin,’’ she started.
‘’Leave me alone!’’ he cut her off, ‘’You’re just like anyone else! You don’t fucking know me!’’
SLAP
His neck snapped to the right, vertebrae popping at the sudden movement. His cheek burned, a bright red imprint of a hand needled deep into his pale skin. He brought his own hand up to his cheek, sobs wrecking his chest, air struggling to get through his closed-up throat. It sounded absolutely pathetic.
His eyes stayed glued at the floor once again. But he didn’t have to look up to sense Annie’s rage.
‘’You know what? You're on your own. I can't watch you kill yourself. "
Annie’s shoes left his vision. Those Converse she let Armin paint flowers on, just so she matches with his boots. Those Converse he had painted columbines, hibiscuses, and cosmos on. Those Converse he could always stare at whenever he had an episode like this.
‘’Wait. Annie, no.’’
Footsteps.
‘’Annie, please. I’m sorry. Don’t go, please.’’
…Footsteps.
‘’Annie. Annie. No, don’t. Please.’’
…
… Footsteps.
‘’Annie! Annie, I’m sorry!’’
…
…
…Footsteps.
‘’ANNIE! Please! I’m sorry! Please please please please…I can’t do this without you!’’
…
…
…
…
That autumn, Armin plants Forget-Me-Nots in his garden.