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please— and it’s when you least expect it too.
come up to his apartment to hang out raid his pantry and wind up snagging your finger in the drawer—
“shoulda brought your own.”
“fuck off, you don’t even like soy.”
and through all the bickering, he’s gently rubbing the bandage over the broken skin.
“so,” he pats the bandaid with his pointer, lax smile tucked between his stupid little dimples. “what did we learn?”
“my best friend’s a grade a asshole who likes to starve his guests.”
“untrue— at this point in time, you’re technically an intruder.”
“can’t intrude when you gave me a key.”
his smirk widens into a boyish grin. “the drawer disagrees.”
you cross your arms with a scoff, turning so he couldn’t poke fun at the pout blooming on your lips.
eren always brushed you off whenever you whined about him running hot. put flirtatious words in your mouth and cackled unrepentantly when you got flustered.
the asshole.
“aw, c’mon, don’t—“ bare forearms wrap around you like a blanket. tone so drenched in syrup, you know he’s fucking with you.
you hate the effect it holds.
laughter tickles his pleas, strengthening your resolve while weakening his authenticity, “don’t shut me out.” you fall into his chest like brick through glass, ungiving even as he tries to draw you back in.
pulling your muscles taut in a petty effort to inhibit him further proves ineffective, as he readily maneuvers you by the wrists so his front matched yours.
your eyes lock on his collarbone, peeking out cheekily from the grey button down.
he would wear a v-neck.
he calls your name incessantly, in varying degrees and frequencies (not unlike a child) but it’s a lost cause. your stubbornness could rival his some days, which, as he joyfully pointed out after witnessing it for the first time— was no simple feat.
the dysfunctional air conditioner kicks on in the background, enhancing the cold running along your skin, as well as the strange silence tailoring the air.
then there’s heat hitting the top of your head, tickling your hairline when your lashes flutter open fitfully— feeling something warm and damp press between your eyebrows.
you squeeze his fingers as you lift your chin, tracking his expression with big eyes.
being subject to such intensity is overwhelming as is, bright sea-foam leaving your insides bubbly and whipped like the most delectable latte.
a humble smile sits neatly on his lips.
having finally gotten the attention he wanted, eren releases your fingers in exchange for your cheeks— relishing how they fill up his hands.
“am I off the hook now?”
you roll your eyes exaggeratedly, not wanting to show your cards so quickly.
“. . I guess.” you hum, as if you weren’t counting the pacing of your breaths.
a grin splits your balmy cheeks when he stares down at you unamused, flicking you on the nose with a scoff in spite of your petulant cries. though, it was worth it to hear him pouting.
“. . hate when you do that.”