Fight For You | Eren X Reader

08 | Levi's Banquet

Content warnings; foul language

After school and another tiring day of training with the neat freak, I decided to head over to Historia's place. She had given me her address via text and it seemed to be within walking distance as well. Not like I had a car anyway, my dad took it when he left.

I walked down the street and finally ended up at her place. It was no surprise that her house was relatively huge. I knocked on the door and she answered quickly, as if she were waiting right by the door.

She was even more beautiful when she wasn't in her uniform. She wore a beautiful white night gown and her hair was in a neat braid.

"(Y/N)! Glad you came!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside and to her room. Her room was beautiful and filled with all kinds of pastel colors. She had an antique queen sized bed, which literally looked like a throne— not to mention her closet was probably the size of my room.

"Eager, aren't you?" I asked, laughing.

"Very!" She shouted.

"Your house and room is beautiful." I complimented.

"Aw, thank you bestie." She blushed.

Besties already!? I'm loving it here.

She plopped down on her bed, "So, before we get started, I just wanna chat with you about some things." She smiled at me.

I sat down on her bed next to her. It was soooo soft.

"What things?" I asked her, engrossed.

"Do you like Jean?" She asked, vivaciously.

"No, not at all." I answered, confused.

"Hmm, okay. And what about Eren, do you like him?" She asked, observing me.

She's throwing these questions at me like a fast ball.

"No! Of course not, he's such an asshole to me and he's rude and a jerk and I don't even know why I even bothered talking to the boy! I even tried helping him at practice and he just..."

"Bingo!" She said interrupting me, smiling.

"Huh?" I stopped my rambling, giving her a muddled look.

"When I asked you if you liked Jean, your response was calm, but when I asked you if you liked Eren, you raised your voice and your cheeks turned slightly pink." She stared at me.

"...And not to mention your tediously lengthy speech about how you don't like him.." She rolled her eyes, playfully.

"That doesn't mean anything!" I shyly stated.

"I've been seeing the way you look at him. At lunch you stare at him and in the classroom when I was trying to get your attention—you were too busy watching him." She smiled.

I sighed.

"Do you like him? Spill the beans." She poked me.