Hopelessly Romantic

Part 14

Mikasa has always been an enigma to you, and you've always hoped to be hers. This was obvious when high school started; you knew where you fit in, and it wasn't with her. She was tall, always with an updated uniform, and had pale, perfect skin even though she was in puberty before you. You've always blamed it on your scholarship, leaning on it more day after day in that rich-filled school. You were always tired from it, from waking up early, from standing in front of your door, knowing it wasn't your home, but your grandmother's . You felt burdensome then, your eyes sunken as your skin prickled with bumps and steeped in oil. It didn't matter how much sleep you got on the bus, Annie always giving you more shoulder-rest than you should've gotten, you felt- knew you were hideous as a child, growing and stumbling back every step. Being Annie's friend made it worse. She had glass white skin and an always, freshly ironed uniform. You could never afford many uniforms, so the one you did have always smelt off, looked off in every group photo. But your grandmother always prided herself in her presentation, and you were no exception.

Even with her old-fashioned ways, you still didn't look like a desire, not like Annie, and you were slightly envious of her- No, you still are. You are still so very envious that no one besides your friend could desire you- Not even you, and maybe that's why you never paid attention to her lingering phrases, not even now. You were always too focused on what you could've had but never did. Like how the desire you did get that wasn't platonic was something out of love, a pitiful love from adults who wanted you. You used to joke with Annie about it all the time, how older women seemed to baby you a bit too much, how they smelt the damage from your grandmother on you. Specifically, your English teacher. She'd hug you a bit too tight, give you too many encouraging words. You always wondered if she was ever a scholarship student. "I'm just saying you should take care of yourself." You hum, thumbing over the strawberry design on the pop. "Yes, and I'm saying you've always said that. When have I not-" "Last year, the three years prior, in middle school- Even elementary-" "Okay, okay, I get it, but it's just an advice meeting with Reiner and then I'll study for an hour or two- Annie, I'm fine, I promiseeee."

A fresh sound comes from the strawberry-themed can, and you can't hold back the satisfied smile as you smush your lips against the opening. "Your promises are always real until they come to you-" "Y/n!" Your head turns to the loud voice, his words deep and almost happy. You hope he's happy to see you because it's too much to be the only one feeling that way again. When can you be someone's enigma? "Reiner!" His name tumbles form your lips like a giddy child, like this is the first time you're having a playdate outside of school. You technically are. He walks over, and by the time he's close, your phone call with Annie is done. "How was class- What did you have?" He smiles, a light flush to his cheeks as he says, "Graphic design, and it was good." You hum, a smile on your lips as you nudge him. "And I think this is where you remind me of your major, big guy. I was too drunk to comprehend last time, but wasn't it something with design?" He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't laugh." "I would never," you declare, lips back on the can of strawberry pop. "Architecture-" You hum, interrupting him as you force the red liquid down your throat. "I love that degree!"

He pauses, as if the words and excitement for him from you, plaguing your shared surroundings are abnormal, wrong. He blinks, smiling a bit too much, a bit too different as he says, "Yeah, king of said that last time, I think- What about you? Your classes, major?" You inhale, teasing, "Promise not to laugh-" "I won't." He says it seriously, and for once, you remember Reiner hasn't come out to anyone only you and maybe if Annie overheard. For once, you realize how fragile this buff man is, how delicate he needs to be handled, should've been. "I'm getting a bachelor's in journalism- And I just got back from a mass communications lecture. Next week we have to find a reporter who handled a cereal mishap- I was too bored to really pay attention." He hums with a nod, his own smile enticing your mind to overthink. Why is someone so happy about your degree, happy for you?