Breathless •Eremika (Love. Me. Now. Or. Never.)

XIII: Whimpers

A window back to the night before. Now that window lay fragmented, unable to be pieced back together.

Eren cracked his left eye drearily, taking in his surroundings. He could feel his pulse tripping in his neck and every part of his body was sore. Light streamed in through the thin curtains beside him, bathing the room. There were blankets over him, drawn up to his waist. No. Those weren't his blankets.

His eyes widened fractionally as he tried to prop himself up with his elbows. A jab of pain touched his spine. This was not his bedroom.

"Eren? You awake?" he whipped his head around to see Armin, slumped in a chair beside the bed.

"Ar-Armin?" Eren's throat was parched to nearly complete dryness and he could feel a foreign flame burning within his body, scorching his insides. He croaked, "Where am I?" His vision shook but he could still see the shelves around him, filled with multi-coloured books of various genres.

"You're at my house. This is my room. Don't tell me you forgot because you visit me like, every week," Armin breathed out in a rush. He was in his uniform, his hair tousled and his suit wrinkled.

"Right," Eren scrunched his eyes shut to clear away his disorientating thoughts. He shifted into a sitting position uneasily and plowed his hand through his hair.

"You were so drunk last night," Armin's tone was reprimanding, "You shouldn't have even drunk a sip of whatever you had. It's not good for you at all. Have you thought about your deteriorating health? You seriously passed out. Do you know how hard it was for me to get you guys out of there? I'm glad all I had in the party was apple cider."

"Mikasa," Eren blurted, "where did she go?"

"I think Levi brought her back home. Saw Levi putting her in the backseat of his car-"

"What? Backseat?" Eren grappled for Armin's arm.

"She texted you," his friend dismissively jerked his chin towards the nightstand. There was a caseless iPhone resting on it.

"How did my phone get there?" Eren reached for it, wincing in sheer agony. He could still feel the aftereffects of the spirits and his head was spinning.

"Slipped out of your pocket," Armin lifted a weary shoulder. He had fallen asleep watching over Eren in the chair and his muscles ached. "You owe me big time, Eren. I helped cover you up. Your mum doesn't know you've been out drinking."

The phone was displaying three messages. The sender was Mikasa. Eren thumbed the 'view' button anxiously.

Mikasa: Eren

Mikasa: I tried to text Armin but he switched his phone off or something.

Mikasa: Eren, please answer, I'm not feeling well, I need someone to help me.

Eren's fingers twitched, typing in a brief reply. He could feel an ominous jitter travel up his spine as he pressed 'send'.

Eren: I'm here.

Mikasa: Can you buy something for me?

Eren: What is it?

There was a long, tormenting pause.

Mikasa: Pregnancy test kit.

Eren froze, his chest tightening in shock. He was entangled in a web of mixed feelings, fear, panic, sorrow and desolation. Pregnant? Mikasa pregnant? No. It couldn't be. His fingers hovered over his screen as he faltered, thinking of an appropriate response.

Eren: What makes you think that you're pregnant...?

Mikasa: I'm feeling nauseous.

Eren: Might just be the side effects of binge-drinking.