Communication Error (Eremin)

Chapter Fourteen • Attention

After dinner, Armin contemplated what to do with himself. He wasn't going to head upstairs and lay in bed forever, nor was he going to sneak onto his laptop or phone. He was afraid doing the latter would worsen the consequences of his dishonesty, and possibly take down the possibility of meeting Eren and Mikasa on Wednesdays.
    Come to think of it, he realized his grandfather only took his devices as a temporary punishment. An uneasy feeling poked at his gut as he imagined his grandfather restricting his Wednesday signing lessons. He'd gladly be confined to the house on every other day through the week if it would save that one evening. He grew anxious just thinking about the possible punishments Mr. Arlert would decide on.
I'm getting way too emotional over this, he realized. He wouldn't keep me from socializing with my friends. He's considerate of that whatever the case. He heaved a tight sigh, still unable to shake the last scrap of worry from his stomach.
The house was silent, besides the noise Armin made as he shifted around on the couch and flipped through book pages. He had decided to go on ahead and start working on his homework. After all, he felt he had nothing better to do. It was a bit more difficult for him to work quicker without his laptop, and he disliked not having any music to motivate him. He did attempt to persuade his grandfather to let him use his laptop for music at least.
    "I told you, you can't use your devices," Mr. Arlert had enforced.
    "I know," Armin stated, "but it's only for music."
    "If you want to listen to music, there is a radio in the kitchen."
    But he didn't want to use the radio, so he was left to work in silence. What was the use of a radio if you can't skip the songs you dislike? Plus, all the commercials and smalltalk made by the radio show hosts were annoying. Nobody could care less about a lady's fruit-related mid-life crisis, or how one man's use of mason jars affected his love life! He guessed people just had really boring lives and needed to resort to radio publicity to make it interesting. Losers.
    He blinked and realized he had stopped reading the page he was on. So, he scanned the page and picked back up where he left off, starting from the beginning of the sentence. This particular subject was okay to him, and he found bits of it interesting, but he wouldn't read about it on his own. I wonder what subjects Eren likes best. And Mikasa, he added in hastily, as if someone was hearing his thoughts and wondering why he didn't ask about Eren and Mikasa. You keep excluding her, you dummy, he thought, almost as though that imaginary person had become him, and was being defensive.
    He felt bad, since he really did like Mikasa. He wondered how often she felt she was left out. Like today when me and Eren were talking almost the whole way to school.
Yeah, but you talked to her too, he reminded himself. Not nearly as much, though. He held his thumb down on his book as a makeshift bookmark. His mind stirred on why he would keep an accidental distance from Mikasa, but the answer was already clear without having to put much effort into asking himself. My feelings are making me do stupid things, he concluded. Mikasa doesn't deserve to be excluded. Especially after helping me so much. I'm just being a shitty friend.
    He asked himself what to do about such behavior. Multiple things came to mind, but the most prominent was the idea of pulling himself from Eren more and paying attention to Mikasa instead. He'd keep his attention divided equally. That seemed an acceptable route to take.

Rousing himself, Armin felt that his neck was sore. It was no mystery as to why; he had fallen asleep in an odd position while working. He rubbed the back of his neck and squeezed the muscle he felt was feeling the worst. It only helped for a few seconds before it started to throb and heat up again. He groaned groggily and placed his hand on his lap. Time . . . He blinked and looked around for a clock unsuccessfully. After he woke more, he got up and headed into the kitchen.
    The clock on the stove told him it was 5:32 in the morning. Keeping in mind that the stove clock was a few minutes ahead of the other clocks in the house, Armin realized that it was actually 5:26AM. Habit kicks in, and he heads up to his room to get ready to go.
    His room was dark still, until he flicked the light switch up. He pulled his closet doors open and shuffled through his clothes. It was getting colder outside, he remembered, so he attempted to find appropriate clothing. His wardrobe wasn't very big, but it was enough. After pulling out a couple shirts and a pair of jeans and setting them on his bed, he pulled his current shirt over his head, removing it and all the warmth it had insulated. He threw it on the floor and stuck his thumbs inside the rim of his pants, pushing them down. I wonder . . . He zoned out for a moment as an image of Eren flashed into his mind. It was different this time, however. It wasn't just a friendly thought. No, this time he was curious of Eren's body. What's he look like? he asked himself again as he pictured the pretty brunet with a bare chest. He froze at the mental image. His face was warm now. What's that all about?! Stop it! He fussed silently. We are friends! Strictly! He became very cross at himself.
    Was it nice to fantasize? Yes, yes it was. But not over him! He knew for certain that Eren would want nothing to do with him if he ever—somehow—found out about this! Mikasa would surely riot! She may even tell Carla and Grisha! How they could find out, Armin wasn't sure. But nevertheless the thought scared him. He adored his relationships with Eren and Mikasa.
    Because he felt so about his relationships, he chose to follow ever more diligently the decision he had made to give equal treatment to Eren and Mikasa. That would ensure that his feelings would cease to rouse his imagination.