Circles | Eren x Reader

Chapter 51- Flour Blanket (Part 1):

It was hard work stacking couch cushions and throwing up blankets, and by the time Jean and I were done, we were practically asleep. His head was pushed up against the mattress wall while the rest of him was huddled underneath blankets. I was sad that Ymir's party had to be cancelled, but I also was really ecstatic about being able to spend more time with Jean. The TV was playing in the background, giving the whole fort a cool blue glow. I sat on the ground across from him and dropped my head onto one of the pillows to rest, but I couldn't focus. Our fort still had a huge gap in it that led into the outside world. It was irritating, and I couldn't relax until our pillow fort was absolutely perfect.

I stumbled upstairs, leaving Jean behind to nap. I searched through every cabinet in every room, but couldn't find anything. All of the sheets had been pulled off of the beds, and my room was bare when I walked in. I scanned the room and found nothing, but, out of sheer desperation, I suppose, I walked into my bathroom. I was glad that I did; Eren's dirty blanket sat in the tub, waiting to be used. I picked it up and watched as a million flakes of dirt fell into the tub. Maybe I should wash it...

I knew that after washing it, the blanket would still be too wet to use, but if I threw it in the dryer for twenty minutes I could probably add it to the fort after.

I started running the tub water and sectioned off pieces of the blanket where the dirt was the worst. I had to get rid of the big clumps before I threw it in the wash, otherwise everything would clog. Slowly but surely, I worked on the blanket until I was left with only one spot. I held the cloth up to my face and scrubbed as hard as I could, but there was a blue stain that refused to come out.

"Shit," I whined, "How did this get here? Eren's gonna kill me."

I looked closer at it and noticed that the little blot looked like smudged letters. I stretched out the fabric to get a better view. Does that say... 'I love you'? Why would Eren have that on a blanket?

My mind scattered in every direction, trying to draw a conclusion. Did someone give this to him? Was it a family member? No, it couldn't be. A date? A girlfriend?! To my chagrin, I immediately began to feel jealous. Well, I tried to reason, even if someone did give this to him, it doesn't necessarily mean he loved them back, right? My argument wasn't very convincing. I still wasn't sure whose handwriting it was. Maybe, if I could tell whether or not it was Eren's, I'd be able to feel more confident in another answer.

I dropped the blanket back into the tub and ran to my bed to grab the letter Eren had written to me. Despite being stuck in the dust that had piled under my bed, the paper was perfectly clean. My heartbeat rose quickly— I needed to know the answer. I sprinted back to the bathroom and held up the little slip of paper next to the blanket, comparing the different letters on the page to what had been written on the fabric.

"Same handwriting..." I thought with horror. "That means... he was writing to someone else." My heart dropped. That was the only reasonable answer I could come up with. It made sense. If someone had given Eren a blanket with the words 'I love you' on it, he probably wouldn't have treated it so carelessly, like using it for work.

And, the letters were smudged, meaning that this ink had bled through a paper. I faltered: "But to who?"

I left the blanket in the tub to dry, the concern for the unity of my pillow fort being overtaken by despondency. I crept back downstairs and into the fort, where Jean was still sleeping peacefully. I sat beside him and watched the light from the TV flicker onto his face, creating different shards of light in every direction.

I sighed, unable to pry my mind away from the hundreds of questions it was asking about Eren.

Eren doesn't like anyone right now, right? I thought. Wait— why do I even care? I shouldn't care about this stuff. It's none of my business. I don't like him like that. Besides, even if he did have someone else in his life, it's in my best interest to stay out of it.

Still, my hand hovered over my pocket, itching to grab my phone and text him. A bag of half-eaten Madeleines rested on the floor beside my foot. I kicked them to the side with a huff, contemplating my next move.

"Ugh, what do I do?" I asked desperately to no one in particular.

The TV answered: "Fuck it, man. Let's go kill those sons-o-bitches."

What movie is this? It didn't matter. I had gotten my answer. Or, something close enough to an answer.

"Alright, random man on the television, I'll say 'fuck it' and text him," I said with renewed vigor, grabbing my phone and typing Eren's number into the search bar. I stared at our last conversation while I gathered my thoughts:

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me

Why are you staring at me?

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xxx-xxx-xxxx

to distract u

is it working

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me

No.

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I laughed coldly to myself. Time moved differently when I was with Eren. Sometimes, it would feel like years since anything happened, and other times, it felt like seconds. I decided to start our conversation simply, without giving any hard evidence away:

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me

I washed your blanket. When do you want it back?

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I waited for what felt like hours before he answered.

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xxx-xxx-xxxx

why'd u wash it?

and I can pick it up tom at school if that's ok

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me

because it was dirty.

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xxx-xxx-xxxx

how could it be dirty

there was literally only flour on it

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The real answer was because I had left it in my backyard where it had become caked in dirt, but that response wouldn't get me anywhere. So, I lied... a bit.

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me

there was a blue stain on it so I tried to scrub it out.

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xxx-xxx-xxxx

who are u? Levi??

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I didn't reply. For a minute, there was nothing. Then, my phone said he was typing. The bubbles disappeared, then reappeared, then disappeared again. I adjusted myself on the pillows while I waited.