Armin has been noticing a couple of teenagers lately that really spark his interest. One of them, an appealing green-eyed boy, has an energetic and downright determined aura about him that Armin is undoubtedly attracted to.
Occupied by the thoug...
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Armin couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. An excitement welled up in him that he had to try to contain. Though he was sure his eyes betrayed him immensely. Not that he was upset about it. Mikasa, of course, didn't have to wonder if what she told him had struck him. "I inspire him?" he asked in masked disbelief. "Yes. "And, Armin," she continued, sounding a bit more solemn, "please stop trying to push him aside." Immediately, Armin's excitement faded, and instead he felt quite anxious. "Huh?" "You told me about how you felt, and that you didn't want to get carried away. "But, hear me out: you're starting to push him away. He's noticed, and he feels he's done something wrong. "I can assure you that, when we go back, he'll think we purposely left him behind because you prefer me above him." He said nothing, but the look on his face told her that he was unsure. "That's how he feels. You can't deny how he feels, because you aren't him. "Listen . . . I know you're trying to make sure I don't feel left out. Why else would you push him aside? But I'm asking you not to do that. "You make him happy. This, however, doesn't. "He honestly feels like he's done something wrong, and even that you really don't like him that much." "But I've been learning to sign because of him," Armin pointed out. "Yes, but it doesn't register like that in his mind. To him, that was just a phase, as he was, and now you care about me instead. "He's jealous." Armin felt a wave of guilt blow over him. His eyes began to burn. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. "I thought I was doing you a favor. Now I feel awful." He pressed his arm against his eyes and blinked until his sleeve soaked in the oncoming tears. He looked back at Mikasa after making sure he had no more tears to shed in that moment. "What am I supposed to do? I can't just tell him, 'Hey, you don't have to be jealous of Mikasa.' He would know that something happened." Mikasa agreed with him, nodding slightly. Armin held hack his tongue while he rehearsed his confrontation with Eren in his mind. It was tedious, and he was sure his feelings were affecting his words, but he felt some relief from it. "Would he be bothered if I asked him how he was?" he asked. "Hm?" "I'm just thinking out loud, but . . . I'm going to pull him aside. I'll tell him, 'Me and Mikasa were talking, and I felt I needed to bring something to you.' Then, I guess I can ask him how he feels, or something." He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe whatever I say will fall into place when I talk to him." "Okay. But when will you talk to him?" Armin lazily shrugged. "Not today. I don't know. "Tomorrow, maybe?" Mikasa confirmed, "Tomorrow." "Alright." He blinked and looked away, then back at Mikasa. "Thank you. I didn't know I was being so obvious." His expression faded to one of disappointment. "I especially didn't mean to hurt his feelings so much. If anything, I'm going to apologize to him." "I didn't think you meant to upset him. But even so, I wanted to let you know so this wouldn't go on and on. Thank you too." The two of them began their way back to Mikasa's house with lighter spirits than what they left with. They didn't talk much at all, but the company was comfortable still. The way back, Armin continued reviewing his confrontation with Eren deeply, analyzing every decision he could think of and the possible outcomes for each path taken. He was excited—and anxious—to talk to him, but he reminded himself over and over that he had to wait until tomorrow, which was a drag. However, he survived, and somehow avoided quickening his pace back.
