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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

the party scene

roommate eren x f!reader

you and eren won’t dance

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: drinking, hitch and marlowe being annoying, someone gets pushed into a pool, marco getting clowned for his halloween costume, toilet humor

an: ok yall. here’s the chapter. heheheheheh. and you should listen to the song, when you get to it. for vibes of course. to many anon who guessed correctly, hundreds of kisses. not my fav roommates chapters me thinks (but also it seems like everyone else has different fav chapters than I expected so)

previous part linked here

“What are you going to be for the party?”

You can literally see Eren’s ears perk up, breaking his concentration from the dinner he was cooking on the stove. You tried to make ravioli for dinner. Key word, tried. He didn’t let you stand there for longer than two minutes because he didn’t want you to “burn the apartment down.”

You put foil in the microwave one time and suddenly he thinks you’re some arsonist.

“The party on Friday? You’re going, peaches?”

“Yeah. Jean invited me. Kind of being a wingwoman for him and bringing my classmate Marco, who I’m like ninety percent sure he has a crush on.”

Eren turns his face back to the pan, dishing the food around on the plate. You get up occasionally, grabbing things you know he’ll need before he asks for them. Setting the dishes, grabbing the salt (because this man doesn’t know how to season), the Yerba Mate Eren claims to hate but drinks anyways.

“Hitch and I are going as Anakin and Padme. From Star Wars. Apparently, Marlowe loves that crap and she never gave him the time of day for it. She thinks it’ll make him real mad if we show up like that.”

“You should put a braid in your hair. You know, like from the second movie.”

“Ew. I’m going as the third movie look.”

“Good. He’s hotter in that movie anyways.”

He flashes you a smile as he dishes out the food, lifting the plates and setting them on the table. You join him with the drinks, the two of you sitting right next to each other.

It was getting easier. Eren was your friend. Maybe even your best friend. You’d still get the occasional heart pounding, flustered cheesk whenever he walked past you or said something that made your heart flutter, but other than that, you were making progress. You can live with a heart flutter here and there.

“What are you going to be?”

“Jean wants to do some basic angel/devil thing for the party. I’ve got a white dress and he apparently has a halo already so it should be fine.”

“Have you ever been to a party?”

“Yeah. Not really my thing though, but I don’t mind helping Jean. It can be fun with friends. Dancing, letting loose and all that.”

“Hm. Save a dance for me, peaches?”

“I’m not riding up on you, Eren. That’s weird.”

He drops his fork, an exasperated expression spreading across his face. The vein in his forehead is prominent and you always enjoy when it shows up because you know you’ve won. He’s just that easy to aggravate.

“Who said anything about you riding up on me? I didn’t mean it like that. That’s like…perverted. You could expect that type of shit from Jean or something but-”

You place your hand against his forearm, laughing in his face. He stops immediately at the sight of your laughter, glaring at you.

“You’re so easy to piss off, Eren. I’ll save you a dance, okay? A normal one.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to shake.

“Deal?”

“Deal, Ren.”

“Hey.”

“Hi Ren.”

He steps into the bathroom, standing directly behind you as you finish doing your makeup for the party. Jean was supposed to be here in thirty minutes and the two of you were going to go pick up Marco. Meaning, you were going to have to deal with their awkward pining for the ten minute drive to the party.

“Can you help me with something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Can you help me draw the scar?”

“Oh, yeah. Show me the picture.”

He hands you his phone as you inspect the picture, the scar starting before the eyebrow and breaking just underneath the left eye. He sits on top of the toilet seat, his ankles crossed over each other.

“Ah. Hitch gave me this to use. For the scar.”

He hands you a tube of lipstick, which you slide open and swatch against the back of your hand. Too glittery for a scar.

“Do you mind if I use mine? Hers is kind of glittery and it’ll look kinda weird?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You bend over, digging through your bag to find the one tube of red lipstick you own, that Pieck forced you to buy for her wedding. You can’t show up to my wedding in lip gloss, that’s an atrocity. You find the tube at the end of the drawer, walking over to where Eren was sitting.

As you amble over, you realize that the toilet seat is way too low and you can’t properly reach Eren’s face to reach. You were towering over him, his long legs sprawled across the floor of the bathroom.

“Why are these toilet seats so low? I can’t even get the right angle.”

“Levi. Kenny told me he hates having his feet dangle over certain toilets so he makes sure to get the shortest ones when picking his apartments. As if Levi’s going to come shit in our toilet at some point.”

You nod, trying your best to lean over and indent the mark over Eren’s face. Out of all the angles you try, not one of them works - your head is blocking the light, your hands are in a weird position, you’re all up in his space.

“Just sit on my knee. If it’s easier.”

He splits his legs, tapping on the top of his thigh for you to sit. You nod, setting both of your legs on each side of his one as you lightly perch on top of his leg.

“That’s hovering. Not sitting, Y/N. It’s fine.”

You sigh, pressing your full weight against Eren as you lean back over for the phone and check the picture. As you slide over reaching for it, Eren puts his hands on your waist, holding you from falling off of his knee.

“Thanks Ren. Just wanted to check again before I started.”

You focus on the picture, the light shining against your face as you check where the scar was exactly on your eyes. Eren locks his fingers together behind your waist, pulling you closer so you can get a better look.

“Okay. I think I’ve got it down.”

You cradle the side of his face in your hands as you start drawing the scar on, trying to be as gentle as possible. Trying to avoid the fact that you’re basically straddling him right now. You can feel his cheeks warming under your touch and you try your hardest not to let the smile spread across your face. At least it’s not just you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing Ren. You’re just blushing, that’s all.”

“You’d blush if you were in my position too.”

You shake your head, pressing your fingers against his lips so you can stop him from moving. You’re only halfway through the scar and if he talks again you’re going to smudge it.

“Since when do you wear red lipstick?”

“I don’t. Pieck made me buy it for her wedding. It’s for special occasions.”

You lean back, cupping his face in your hands as you glean your eyes over the scar. You compare it to the picture and figure it's semi accurate, giving him a smile to signal you’re done. You slide off of his legs, beckoning him to join you in the mirror. You watch him lean forward, eyeing your work.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Can I try?”

“Try what?”

“Doing makeup on you.”

You pause, dropping your lipstick tube back into the box.

“I don’t have a scar for my costume.”

“I know. But you must have something left to do. You just looked so focused, like you were face painting, and I just wanted to try.”

“Um, okay. You can take this glitter. You basically just dip your finger in it and swipe it against my eyelids. And then along the collarbone too, because it's body glitter.”

He nods, taking the white glitter into his hands. He inspects the box first, turning it over and over again, holding it up against the light, smelling it.

“Do you need to do a police inspection on the box? It’s just glitter.”

“Shut up. I was just checking if it was okay to use.”

“It’s obviously okay to use if I’m giving it to you. I’ve used it before.”

He rolls his eyes, learning down. He sets his hands on both sides of your face, angling your face to inspect you this time.

“You’re short.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Do you always have to give me attitude?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sit on the counter. It’ll be easier for me to do if we’re closer to the same level.”

You brace your palms against the counter, trying to push yourself onto the counter. You clearly misestimated how tall the counter was because you barely hit the back of the top, stumbling in the air.

“Okay, Humpty Dumpty. Let me help you.”

He reaches down, securing his hands around your waist to lift you up to the counter. You can feel your cheeks burning at the sensation, unable to look him in the eyes.

Right. Because it was getting easier, because he was becoming your friend. But there were still moments like this. Ones where you can feel your cheeks burning, your heart pounding, your fingers shaking.

You hate that he still makes you feel this way.

“Okay, widen your stance.”

“What?”

“Open your legs.”

“Ew. You’re so vulgar, Eren.”

“Well, I said to widen your stance and you gave me that stupid look on your face. It’s your fault.”

You roll your eyes, parting your legs. He steps in between the space, leaning close to your face with the glitter still in his hands.

“So, the eyelids and collarbones?”

“Yeah. You can just use your fingers. You wash your hands after you pee, right?”

“Of course not.”

“What?”

“It’s better for the environment. If I just wait until I have to poop, I can just save water by washing my hands once. You should try it.” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“As if. Girls don’t poop.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“There’s no way girls don’t poop.”

“Ask your mom. Or Mikasa. They’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Okay, stop fucking around. We’re running late.”

“You started it with your stupid toilet humor.”

“Shut up. Your attitude is going to kill me one day.”

“That’s a promise, Yeager.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile spread across his face as he dips his thumb into the glitter. He cups the side of your face and you flutter your eyes shut, his fingers gentle against your eyes. You can hear him laughing and you squint your eyes, glaring at him as you open them.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing Y/N. You’re just blushing, that’s all.” he responds, his tone mocking.

“Did you do this just to prove a point? It looks like finger painting, my ass.”

“Close your eyes. I’m not done yet.”

You shut your eyes again, Eren sliding the last bit of glitter along your eyes. You open your eyes to find him staring at you, his eyes wide.

“What did you do? Don’t tell me there’s glitter on my forehead.”

“No, it just looks pretty, that’s all.”

You look down, focusing on his hands as he dips into the glitter again. Stupid fucking hands and voice and smell and hair and soft cheeks. You can literally feel your heartbeat all the way in your stomach and he’s barely even touching you.

He uses his hands to tilt your face up, lightly pressing the glitter against the exposed parts of your neck. You feel your body shiver, instantly remembering the last time you and Eren were like this. Pressed up in the bathroom, with him kissing your neck. He presses his hand to your shoulder, his eyes washing over in concern at you shivering.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Got a weird sense of deja vu, that’s all.”

He nods, finishing off the last of the glitter. When he’s done, he locks his hands across your waist again, lightly setting you back down on the counter as you both stand there. You’re both staring at each other, neither one of you talking first.

Right. Because what are you supposed to say after that? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking of your lips on my neck, my bad.

The doorbell rings and Eren gives you a soft smile before squeezing your shoulder and leaving. You can hear Hitch in the doorway and you try to ignore the way your entire body is steaming.

“What are you even supposed to be, Marco?”

“I’m a space cowboy, Y/N!”

“You’re holding a glittery gun and wearing a flannel. You look like a kid who got lost at Party City and picked the closest thing you could find. You don’t even have a cowboy hat.”

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.”

You watch Marco’s cheeks turn a bright pink, awkwardly stuttering to respond to Jean. Great. They’re going to do this whole oblivious idiots thing all night.

Marco slides into the front as you and Jean walk to the other side, unlocking the car.

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.” you say, mocking Jean’s high pitched voice.

He rolls his eyes, lightly shoving you as you settle into the seat behind him. They’re both talking animatedly, forgetting you were even sitting in the back. You unlock your phone, playing Wordscapes as they go on in the background.

Eren’s eyes were trained on your figure, as Jean and Marco were spinning you around on the dance floor with them for a better part of the last forty-five minutes. He’s been waiting, staring at you, anticipating when you’ll look at him.

You’re driving him crazy. Today, especially. Soft glitters, a willowy white dress, that stupid flowery perfume you wore during the concert. He even likes the stupid halo you have on your head.

He wants to touch you. Press his hands against yours, drag you out and leave with you so he was the only one who could see you like this, your stupid eyes glittering in the light.

He hates that you can still make him feel this way.

He sees you leave, waving off Jean and Marco who were still left on the dance floor. Marco’s wearing your halo and you have the glittery gun Marco was holding.

He’s still watching you. Shamelessly. You weave around people talking, wait to walk forward so you don’t get in the way of pictures, compliment strangers on their costumes.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, Hitch.”

She’s been annoyed for a better part of the last hour, not that he’s been paying much attention to it. Marlowe still hasn’t shown up.

He doesn’t mind the guy. He doesn’t quite understand why Marlowe and Hitch have to play these games - circling around each other, making each other jealous, making up. He figures a part of it is the chase, but he’s always found that part the most agonizing. He’d catch you if he could. He’s been waiting long enough. He’d make you feel good right here and right now.

He watches you leave the room, leaving the heat of the room to the patio outside.

“Mind if I leave? Just call me when he’s here, okay?”

Hitch nods and Eren basically bolts out the door, ready to follow you where you went. But before he can, Jean all but falls right off the dance floor, piled on the floor in front of him. He can see Marco’s hand under him, dragging them both up by their arms. He can tell Jean’s already too far gone and that he has to deal with this first. Then you.

Your feet hurt. Like a bitch. You made the wrong choice of wearing your Doc Martens to the party. You had figured you wouldn’t be moving much, just sticking to the walls and talking to whoever you knew there. But no, of course Jean’s nervous ass had to drag you onto the dance floor with Marco, the three of you spinning in circles.

You had made your safe escape, sitting outside on the patio. You had been watching the wind whistle through the trees in the dead of night, watching the lights in the pool change colors. They had been changing every minute - switching from purple, to red, to green. There were a few stars glittering out, barely sparkling in the sky.

“Anyone sitting here?”

You look up to find a guy with black hair and pale green eyes kneeling down, crossing his legs next to yours.

“No. Well you are, now.”

He smiles, the two of you sitting in silence. You watch people swerve around the pool, girls holding hands, people leaning against the chairs, everyone nursing drinks in their hands.

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

“Yeah. I don’t really come to these things, I just came here with my friend Jean.”

He nods, leaning down to feel the temperature of the water.

“Do you want to play twenty questions?”

You hike your knees against your chest, tangling your fingers together across.

“Sure.”

“Your name is…?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Marlowe.”

Right. Hitch’s Marlowe. The guy she was trying to make jealous, the reason Eren was seeing her and not you. Well, not exactly. He said you two were just a mistake but you could have convinced him if she wasn’t in the picture. Semantics. He taps your shoulder and you forget that it’s your turn.

“You play a sport, Marlowe?”

“Water Polo.”

You nod, lightly turning your head to the side. This is wrong. Surely Hitch wouldn’t be the happiest that you were sitting with Marlowe and not her. You can hear the party getting louder behind you and you swear you can hear her screaming in there somewhere.

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?”

“Uh, no. You?”

“Not exactly, Y/N.”

“I have this friend, I think you’d like her. Her name is-”

“Hitch?”

You pause, swallowing as you turn your face to look at him. He’s sitting way too close, an all-knowing look plastered on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’m okay, for now. It’s your turn to ask.”

“Um, okay. Why don’t you want to see Hitch?”

“Because I’m talking to you.”

He untangles his legs and stands up, holding out his hand for you to follow. You press your hand into his and he pulls you up, not letting go of your hand as the two of you stand. The party is getting even louder, the sound of voices drowning out the sound of the music. You’re positive you can hear her now.

“My turn. Do you know a guy named Eren? Plays soccer, green eyes?”

“Uh, no. Never heard of him.”

He nods, squinting his eyes at you. He must know Eren’s your roommate. Maybe he’s found out their together and he’s trying to get you to admit it. You let go of his hand, the two of you standing awkwardly by the pool.

You can’t really tell what he’s getting at, but every part of him irks you out. He’s perfect for Hitch.

“My turn, Marlowe. Are we done now?”

“That’s barely even twenty. But fine, one more question.”

You teeter on the balls of your feet, ready to take off the second he asks his stupid question. He turns to the side, eyeing the window, before asking.

“When was the last time someone kissed you?”

Before you can respond, Marlowe crashes into the pool, with Eren suddenly standing at your side. Eren just pushed Marlowe into the fucking pool. You can hear the sound of footsteps behind you - Hitch, Jean, and Marco at your sides.

Jean and Marco - well wasted beyond their minds - swing their arms around you, slurring as they ask you if you’re okay. Hitch on the other hand is pissed. At Eren.

“What the hell is your problem, Eren?”

“Him, Hitch. He was pissing me off.”

“This wasn’t what I meant when I asked you for help with this Eren. And your stupid roommate wasn’t helping the case either.”

You feel your eyes widen, as you make eye contact with Hitch, awkwardly crossing your arms across each other. You turn back to Jean, who still isn’t paying attention, instead playing rock paper scissors with Marco on the floor.

“You want to be with Marlowe so bad, Hitch? Go ahead and join him.”

He leans over, lightly pushing Hitch into the pool where Marlowe was still watching. He turns to you and ou can tell he’s pissed - that stupid vein on his forehead is showing again. But not in the good way.

“We’re leaving, Y/N.”

He grabs the edge of your wrist, dragging you towards the door as you shake on his hand.

“I drove here with Marco and Jean, Eren. And they’re way too drunk to drive home now.”

You both turn back, leaning over Marco and Jean. Jean’s way too out of it, but Marco looks up, smiling at the two of you.

“You guys are so cute. I love your Anakin and Padme costume.”

Right. Because he took your halo and you took the glittery gun because he kept hitting Jean with it. Eren turns to you, shaking your hand again.

“Armin will come get them. You and I are leaving. Now.”

“But how will he even find them? And what about Marco’s car?”

Eren turns around fully, stopping in the center of the door. He’s pissed, at you now, and you can lightly hear Marlowe and Hitch arguing in the background.

“You can hear them right? Knowing them, they’re going to walk up in a few seconds and start arguing with you and me. And if he says some shit again, I’m going to do worse than just push him into a fucking pool. You and I are leaving.”

He tangles his fingers around your wrist again, his touch still gentle, as the two of you file out of the party, making it back to the apartment.

Eren doesn’t say anything to you as you walk to the car, when you drive home, or even when you stare at him from the confines of your kitchen. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re waiting. For an explanation.

But he can’t do that can he? Tell you that the reason he pushed Marlowe in the pull and argued with Hitch is because he can’t stand the thought of him being with you? He can see the entire scene in his head, like he has been for the past hour, his anger burning every time he does.

“Jean, get the fuck up. You too, Marco.”

They both stand up, half leaning on each other. Totally gone.

“Eren. Marlowe’s here.”

He turns to find Hitch at his side, her face scrunched up in anger. Eren waves off Marco and Jean, pushing them towards the kitchen where (he hopes) they’ll find water and sober up a little. There’s no way he’s letting them drive you home, that’s for sure.

“Where?”

“With your stupid roommate outside. What is she doing?”

Eren turns his neck to find you, where he was just about to join you, sitting by the side of the pool. He can see Marlowe sitting next to you, leaning way too close for his liking. He turns back around, pressing his hands against Hitch’s shoulders.

“Get him to leave. Now.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

He drags Hitch out by the arm, the two of them leaning their necks so they can hear what you and Marlowe are talking about.

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?”

That’s enough. Eren moves forward, not exactly sure what he’s going to do, but Hitch stops him, pulling him back by the wrist.

“What are you doing, Hitch?”

Hitch digs her fingers into Eren’s wrist, turning to glare at him.

“What the fuck is she doing?”

“He asked her the question, Hitch. Shut the fuck up.”

He’s getting angrier. He can feel it - burning hot, red anger. Because why the fuck is Marlowe talking to you? Asking you if you’re alone? Why are you talking to him when you know he’s here? And why the fuck is Hitch pissed at you like Marlowe’s not the one all over you right now? Don’t you know he’s been waiting for that dance you promised him all night?

“Not exactly, Y/N.”

“I have this friend I think you’d like. Her name is-”

“Hitch?”

He turns back, his turn to glare at Hitch.

“See, Hitch. It’s fucking Marlowe. Now go and stop him.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to stop him? And I have no interest in chasing him.”

“Get mad. Argue and then kiss and makeup. I don’t give a fuck. Just get him to stop fucking talking to her. Now.”

“I already told you. I’m not chasing him.”

“This isn’t fucking about you. Do something now or I’ll call the deal off now. I’ve already done more than enough and you can’t do one thing for me?”

“Why do you even care?”

He turns his neck again, to find you and Marlowe standing, his hand in yours. He can’t stand it. Your hand in his. Because he doesn’t deserve you. No one does. Because he can’t treat you right and Eren can. He’d praise the ground you walk on if you let him.

He hears the last question and he can’t take it anymore.

“When was the last time you were kissed?”

So he does the only thing he can think of. Push Marlowe in the pool. Drag you out of the party, where Hitch and Marlowe and Jean or Marco or anyone can’t talk to you. See you. He hates it. Being possessive, getting jealous. He knows you’re not his. But he can’t fucking stand it. It makes his skin fucking burn thinking of an asshole like Marlowe even touching you, let alone kissing you.

“Earth to Ren?”

He looks back up to find you staring at him, awkwardly brushing your hands against your forearms. Right. Because you’re still waiting for a fucking answer and he can’t tell you. Tell you that the thought of another man touching you drives him crazy, that the only person who could touch you right, make you feel good was him.

“You’re doing that thing again. I can see the steam coming off of your head.”

He deflates, leaning against the counter as he watches you. You’re moving from the side, pressing the glass of water in your hand to the dispenser in the kitchen. It’s pissing him off even more. The thought of someone seeing you like this - bedhead in the morning, focused when you’re doing your makeup, half asleep on the couch. He can’t fucking stand it.

“So. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, Darth Vader. No need to growl at me.”

Fuck. Everything is pissing him off. Everything.

“Let’s think about something else, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it just….stop being so pissy.”

You’re at his side, circling the glass of water in your hand.

“Fine. The answer to the question. What was it?”

“What question, Ren?”

“The one Marlowe asked you. Before I pushed him in the pool.”

When was the last time you were kissed? In the bathroom, when Eren had his lips pressed to your neck.

“A real kiss, Y/N.”

Eren Yeager, mind reader.

“Oh. Um. A while ago, maybe a year? It was back when I was dating Floch.”

Eren turns his neck, his eyes flashing at you as you look at him. He looks less angry, his eyes more concerned than murderous like they were a few seconds ago.

“I don’t even think I can remember. I don’t know - he never really liked that stuff. Affection, compliments, all that.”

“Did you ask him to? Do that stuff?”

“At first, yeah. But he never did.”

Now he’s even more pissed. Because an asshole wanting to kiss you, him doing it all wrong is infuriating enough. But the fact that you had to ask someone to do it? He’d literally drop on his fucking knees if you gave him the chance and you had to ask someone for it?

Eren does the only thing he can. The only thing he knows how to do. He wraps his arms around you, tucking your face against his neck as he holds you.

It was either this or kissing you, full on like he wanted to. But he can’t really do that. So hugging it is. He hears you murmur against his shoulder, your arms pressing against his back.

“S’okay Eren. What are you so mad about?”

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it. And no. It’s not.”

“We don’t. But I think this is less about whatever happened and more about whatever just-”

He tightens his grip on you, the pressure of his arms silencing you.

“I’m mad because you should be kissed. Often. And by someone who knows how. Like they can’t get enough of you, like you’re the air they breathe, like you’re inventing kissing just by putting your lips together.”

Shit. He said too much.

You stand in silence, staring at him as he finishes talking. Oh he messed up big time.

He watches the smile spread across your face, your eyes still in the dim light of the kitchen. Stupid fucking glitter. He’s going to go into the bathroom and throw it out.

“Didn’t realize you cared so much, Ren.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Why do you?”

“Why do I what?”

“Care so much, Eren?”

You watch him constrict his fists again, his jaw clenched.

“Selfish reasons.”

You walk up to the counter where he’s leaning over, lacing your arm through his. You push your hands into his fists, forcing him to stop clenching his hands so hard. You can tell his anger is dissipating, his shoulders slowly tensing as you touch him.

“Selfish reasons?”

“I don’t want to see you unhappy or anything. You’re like...my best friend right now. Is it so weird that I want you to be happy?”

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. Fucking idiot.

“No, Ren. It’s not weird.”

You both stand like that for a while, your head pressed against his shoulder. He’s still tense, his heart pounding against your ear.

“So I say all this nice shit to you and you have nothing to say back?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing at all.”

You shake your head, watching him begrudingly smile at you as you two smile In the kitchen. You stand there for a while, the anger, awkwardness, wearing off. It’s just you two, standing in the light of your kitchen.

“You promised me a dance. You never even gave me one, Ren.”

“I’m not riding up on you, Y/N.”

“I’m heartbroken.”

You both laugh and Eren leans over, grabbing your phone from the side. He puts a song on - I Won’t Dance by Fred Astaire - and holds his hands out. You lean forward, knotting your hands behind his back as he presses his hands to your waist.

“You know Fred Astaire, Ren?”

“Old timey shit. My parents love it.”

You tangle your hands behind his neck, the two of you dancing in the dim light of your kitchen.

You hate this. That you want to lick all his wounds, hold him till his anger goes away. That you want to dance like this in the kitchen with him, all the time.

He hates this. That it’s this easy for you to fix it all for him. For you to make it better. That he wants to hold you, make you feel good every night.

Do you love each other?

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woo-wahhhh · 2 years

Text

[ the things i do for you–; let’s just say missing out on the limited edition tcg card of your boyfriend is a bit... devastating ]

“you’re crying.”

“no, i’m sniffling. my nose is clogged,”

“because you’re crying,”

“no, i’m sniffling because my nose is clogged. i said so,”

“no, you’re sniffling because your nose is clogged because you’re crying because you couldn’t get the limited edition tcg card... of me?” alhaitham’s voice had an edge of... well, in order to not sugarcoat it, judgement. he couldn’t fathom why a silly little illustrated piece of cardstock of him of all people was something to cry over.

on the other hand, kaveh, who was having the absolute time of his life over his roommates confused stupor, patted your back from across the tavern table in attempt to comfort you.

“it’s alright!” he exclaimed boisterously as he handed you a hankerchief. it was your second, actually, since you’d ruined the first one alhaitham had given you before. “there’s better cards to get! besides, uh, do you really want to build a deck around... well, him?”

“says the guy who doesn’t even have a card made after him,” alhaitham shot back, only to garner a dramatic gasp for kaveh.

“i– listen here, you! up until today, you didn’t have a card either, so how are you better than me?!” he jabbed an accusatory finger at alhaitham, who barely flinched from beside you.

“firstly, i never said i was better than you, though that is quite the astute observation on your part. i’m glad to see you’re growing your self awareness. and secondly, i am better than you in terms of the current subject because i do in fact have a card. you can try to argue, but your lack of cards sharing your likeness is simply irrefutable.”

the scarlet rage on kaveh’s face matched his red cape, and he slammed his fists down on the table. “you know what? i give up with you! good luck to you–,” he said to you, with considerably less ire, “– and good riddance to you!” he snapped at alhaitham.

you watched as kaveh marched out through wet eyelashes. usually, you’d laugh a bit at their bickering, but the fact you couldn’t get ahold of the alhaitham tcg card did make you sad. it was a bit childish, but with a glass of wine warming up your throat, maybe you were a bit extra emotional.

“... does the card matter that much?” alhaitham asked, ignoring kaveh’s departure completely. there was an uncharacteristic awkwardness in his voice, not because he was mocking you, but because of his genuine lack of understanding of your sorrow. “i’m right here.”

“yeah but like it’s cool. i mean you’re cool too. but like, there’s only 10 of the cards, and only 5 of them have the holographic and gold detailing and it’s just so pretty...”

idly, he wondered if should be offended that you simply regarded him as cool as a holographic piece of cardstock.

“but it’s simply a card. i’m sure it doesn’t have very good combat– er, tcg– prowess anyways.” even he flinched lightly when you dropped your forehead against the wooden table. one of the waiters looked over at you two with concern, but alhaitham simply shook his head.

“yeah, but its a card of you! ugh, how do i say this in a way that makes sense?” you cried, making grabbing motions with your outstretched hands, despite not raising your head. he wordlessly passed you a glass of water. you didn’t drink it, but you lifted your head and pressed the cool surface against your forehead.

“it’s priceless because it’s you. and you’re really cool, you know! cool enough to get a limited run of tcg cards made of you even though no one in this country knows jack shit about you! and it’s just lame that of all the people to not have the coolest card of you is me. and think about it! we don’t even have a kamera, so i don’t even have a picture of you.”

“you could get a portrait done,” he said pointedly, but you snorted.

“look me in the eyes, ‘haitham, that you’d pay money and sit down for someone to paint a portrait of you,”

he didn’t reply for a moment, humming quietly under his breath. at first glance, you would’ve assumed he was agreeing with you, but the careful glint in his eyes was that of careful consideration.

“... if you’d like, we can do that.”

“huh?”

“did i stutter?” ah, there’s the signature bite. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “you wanted a painting, didn’t you? we can get one done.” as he spoke, he was looking into your eyes, unwavering confidence in the emerald and rust. “and let’s make a deal, shall we? if you stop crying, and take care of the hassle of locating a genuine copy of the card, i’ll foot the cost and get it for you. how’s that sound?”

you looked like fish with how your mouth hung wide open, eyes widened with an unbridled kind of shock. alhaitham, decidedly, liked that look a lot. he much preferred it over your crying face and drunken stupor. he especially liked that you broke into an elated grin, all but throwing yourself at him.

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” his face remained passive, calmly sipping his wine though his arm did snake around your waist so you didn’t fall out of your chair, even though he knew your embrace around his shoulders would probably provide enough stability. “don’t worry, i’ll do my best to look for one!”

“good,” alhaitham had a smug sort of smile playing on his lips as he finished off the last of his wine, before gently prying your hands away from him with an uncharacteristic sort of tenderness though he did keep ahold of your wrist as he stood up. “boss, put the bill on my tab if you would– not kaveh’s though. he only had a glass, i’m sure he can pay it off.”

he pulled you up, making sure you didn’t fall as you waved and he nodded at the owner, walking swiftly away. you giggled to yourself, knowing he’d been planning to leave for a while– alhaitham preferred a strict schedule after all, and he was a determined man who wanted to get his 8 hours in before work.

“what?” he asked you, eyebrow arching up as you weaved through the streets, hand in hand. it seemed like you were staying at his home that night.

“no, i’m just wondering if you even knew where to find a painter who’d agree to sit down with you,” you chirped, laughing until you caught the smirk on his face. you peered at him curiously.

“oh, i don’t need to find one. what good is living with an artistic freeloader if not to get his services in exchange for shirking off a month’s rent?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham scenarios #hahaha yeah what was that *cups ear* uhuh yeah mhm uhuh i promised a kaveh x reader fic was coming?#surely you jest #nope ofc i didn't make a mini post to make sure i finished ofc i didnt hahahahhahahahha #enjoy a mediocre alhaitham piece bc i guess i am hook lined and sinkered #wc:1140 words #my writing #my post

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