He flexed his muscles, belt tightened around his upper arm and syringe gripped in the palm of his calloused hand. His veins were visible underneath his pale flesh, winding down his arms as the needle seeped past his skin and injected the toxin into his blood.He felt that familiar rush that made his head spin and his teeth clench. Heroin was his only release nowadays.

Jean is struggling with the death of Marco, he is losing control. Armin sees him, and tries to help him see the light again. As they grow closer, they seem to find a side of each other, no one has seen before. ~This is not my idea, I repeat not my idea. I want to thank TheAlchemicFox for letting me use her plot, in this story. I repeat not my idea, it was TheAlchemicFox 's idea~