Ribs (Armin Arlert x Reader)

11 :: It Feels So Scary Getting Old

It had been a lengthy, squandering few days since you told Pieck everything about you and Porco; at least from your side. Your stomach had been twisting and turning at the thought of Porco finally budging his lips apart to talk to Pieck, as you figured he'd probably twist events in his favor.

Pieck hadn't texted, called, or spoken to you since that early Monday afternoon. She made it clear she needed time to think and speak with Porco. She wanted to go about your friendship with her prior to the issue; however you could practically see the churning gears in her head stop for a moment and change their direction at the prospect of Porco being a past cheater and your past boyfriend. That matter was something she was definitely taken back by.

Now you were sitting at your desk, your plush bottom lip gripped between your teeth as your knuckles whitened against the thick, overpriced office pen that scribbled down deeply on the paper with your furious speed and pressure. You were writing so mindlessly you hadn't noticed for the past two lines in your notebook, your pen had already run out of ink.

"Fuck! Dammit! Fucking shitty ass piece of shit pen!" You cursed out with fervor as you threw the dead pen in the little plastic garbage bin by the front door of your dorm room.

"Die, you bitch." You mumbled at the obviously lifeless pen as you watched it clamber into the garbage bin.

After your little, and long suppressed tantrum, you allowed your body to slump backwards into the firmness of your desk chair, which was a gaming chair you spent your last paycheck on before you had gotten fired just a short while ago. It had nice perks, such as adjusting height and could lean back all the way, but the wheels often rolled off and left you spending what you had left (which was practically next to nothing) on a mini tool box to fix those fucking wheels multiple times a week.

"Are you...um...are you okay, Y/N?" Mikasa asked.

You forgot about Mikasa for a moment. You were so used to her being outside of the dorm room, it almost felt like you lived alone; until you would glance over to her neatly made bed and scattered items on her side table and remember you actually did have a roommate.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm good." You murmured as you gently allowed your neck to crane towards Mikasa's direction and make fleeting eye contact before turning back to the glaring light of your computer screen and your poorly scribbling handwriting on your notebook.

"Are you studying for the test during tomorrow's lecture time?" She asked, switching the subject.

"Yeah, I am. I've been studying since last Friday but I just can't seem to focus or get anything right." You pause for a moment whilst your arms and head flop down limply on your desk, rattling your desk lamp and little trinkets with your movement. "I already fooled around enough last weekend instead of getting the notes from the last lecture so I guess this is the price I pay."

You winced with a labored sigh as you didn't hear a response from Mikasa. Shit, I probably got too emotional and made her uncomfortable again. You thought. Last time you gave a bit of leeway to rant to Mikasa, she didn't respond and all you could hear was the rustling of her bedsheets and duvet cover, and the next thing you knew her side table lamp was switched off and she was fast asleep.

The thick silence in the dorm room enveloped your ears and allowed you to drift into the depths of your mind quickly; imagining pointlessly beautiful things like what you were going to have for dinner tonight or when you were finally going suck up your embarrassment of last weekend and text Armin to thank him again. Your eyes viewing possibilities of the future rather than what was in front of you, you were startled by Mikasa's thin, papery fingers dipping her notebook down in front of your face.