THIRTEEN • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 22: Loop Twelve, II

When Grisell pulled away, Eren couldn't help himself from asking.

"Why did you do that in front of her?"

His voice was strained, as though he had been thoroughly bothered. For a moment, he saw annoyance flash through her eyes before her mouth curved up.

"Listen," she said. "She was turning away from you, and... this is me trying to tell you that I really like you, Eren. I don't want her to get the wrong idea and be coy."

"You mean disinterested?"

"She was doing it on purpose."

On purpose?

"She wanted me gone," he scoffed.

"But there was just something about her," she said. "I could tell she liked you, but—she seems kind of self-absorbed. She never talks to the rest of us, it's weird."

"Hey—don't talk about her like that. She hasn't done anything wrong."

She threw him an annoyed look. "Why are you defending her? You don't even know her."

Eren didn't know what to say. Grisell was not even his girlfriend, just someone who sidled up to him often. He knew she liked him, it was painfully obvious after Armin pointed it out, and he supposed that he did feel some agenda to care for her as he did for everyone else, but every time she attempted to trap Eren into a confession or asking her out on a date, his head would throb.

Then, the image of a girl would come. 

A girl, standing under the stars.

Eren didn't even know who she was. Her pretty face was fogged by a distant memory, like walking through a rose garden in a dream. Every time he tried to remember her face, and her name, it only ever came up as a blank space.

On his birthday, the first to greet him would always be _____. Today, ______ should have come out with a gift and she'd sheepishly smile as he'd admonish her, telling her that she didn't have to go all out. In some memories, it was not a cake but instead, it was a new coat. A shirt that she had sown herself. 'You're always wearing the same thing,' she would say, almost complaining. 'Have a new one.'

He would have been just fine if it were only the two of them. Then she would spend the whole day with her undivided attention on him, as she always did. They always ate their meals together. They always went everywhere together. They were always together.

Why always? It felt like he had multiple versions of today. That was always a given—each day of his life, he felt like something was missing. It was that phantom girl; the faceless magnificence whom his heart secretly yearned for. He did not know who she was. And he almost felt weirded out by himself for wanting this girl when his priorities should have been centered around killing the Titans.

''Ren,' she would call him, and her voice was an ocean melody.

She was like one of the fantasies Armin showed him in that fairy tale book they so often read as children. A siren. She'd croon his name and he'd willingly walk into the ocean trenches just to catch a glimpse of her. She could drown him and eat him and he'd only be grateful that his bare flesh would feel the nip of her teeth.

"Look, I'm sorry," said Grisell, bringing him back to reality. "I guess it was a bad kiss, it was sudden."

Eren was startled by the anger and vexation in her voice. He'd disappointed her, he knew. He had spent the past few months close to her, allowing her to believe she was making his heart turn. And now she kissed him. On his birthday. That should have been special.