𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍 • ᵉ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

his room

𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟸𝟿𝚝𝚑

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌, sobering up and settling in. The room smells like him—clean but slightly earthy, with the faintest trace of that vanilla candle he always burns. My body rests between his legs, my head rising and falling with his steady breaths as I lay on his chest. His arm is draped lazily over my waist, the other one propped up behind his head. The warmth of his skin seeps into me, and for the first time all night, I feel grounded.

The room itself is dim, lit only by the soft glow of his desk lamp. His space is chaotic in a way that feels intentional—posters of bands I don't recognize cover the walls, interspersed with random art prints, some black-and-white and others vibrant with splashes of color. The candle of Aphrodite sits on his nightstand, the wax pooled and hardened from overuse, a testament to how much he loves it.

Near his TV, there's a precarious stack of books that I always tease him about—most of them on cannibalism, with titles that make me raise my eyebrows every time I catch a glimpse of them. The titles range from clinical and academic to downright creepy, but I can't argue, I obviously enjoy it to the maximum level.

I trace idle patterns on his chest with my finger, feeling his heartbeat beneath my touch. It's slow and steady, a stark contrast to the chaotic storm of emotions from earlier. The rain outside has settled into a faint drizzle, the soft patter against the window adding to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"You still smell like rain," Eren murmurs, his voice low and rough, breaking the silence. I feel the rumble in his chest as he speaks, and it makes me shiver. "And vanilla. Your body wash?"

"Yeah," I reply softly, turning my head slightly to look up at him. "What's your excuse, though? You smell like wet concrete and... your cologne."

"Wow, thanks," he says, his lips curving into a small smile as he looks down at me. "Real flattering."

I grin lazily, my fingers still drawing patterns on his chest. "You're welcome. But seriously, we both look like we've been through it tonight."

His laugh is quiet but warm, his hand sliding up to tuck a strand of damp hair behind my ear. "I mean, we kinda have."

I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment and letting the weight of the day finally sink in. "Eren?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Are we okay?"

There's a pause, and I feel his fingers tighten ever so slightly against my waist. He takes a deep breath, the sound of it loud in the quiet room. "I think so," he finally says. "But we have to talk about it. About us."

I nod against his chest, biting my lip. "I know. I just... I don't know how to start."

"You don't have to figure it out all at once," he says, his voice softer now. "We'll figure it out together, okay?"

The way he says it makes me believe him, even if I'm still scared. There's a certainty in his tone, a steadiness that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, everything really will be okay.