NY, BROOKLYN
ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ, ᴊᴀɴᴜᴀʀʏ 𝟸ɴᴅ
𝟻:𝟶𝟹 ᴘᴍ

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘷

*.𖥔...IYANA LET OUT A BLISSFUL SIGH when the sweet savory flavor of auntie anne's hit her taste buds. at this point you two had just been walking in and out of stores, looking at practically everything and buying what you wanted. multiple bags dreaded your sore red palms, the handles of the bags making an indent.

you had tried to let it slide on your elbow, but it wasn't really any better. so, as a break the two of you simply decided to head straight towards the food court and get something to fulfill your hunger.

the munchies were kicking your ass so you couldn't help but swiftly snatched up a few cinnamon pretzel bites from her cup. this caused her to exclaim loudly whilst cinnamon crumbs stuck to her lipgloss.

"you fat fuck. why ain' you get your own shit," iyana mugged the hell out of you, getting ready to square the fuck up. she's had enough of your big back shenanigans.

"why get my own shit when i can have yours?"

". . ok bitch, don't say nothing the next time when you dig in my food and find out i coughed in it."

you side eyed her in response as y'all stood in line of subway. right now y'all were both kinda feining for a meatball sub and some fuckin cookies with a nice cold ass water, that you'd probably gulp down in one sip from cotton mouth.

the food court was uncomfortably crowded and booming with various voices. you recognized a few random faces and immediately turned your head, muttering to iyana to turn her head as well, as they weren't too far behind her. you were sure that if they'd seen ya'll, they'd approach.

and you did not wan't to deal with that shit 'cause honestly, you didn't care enough. to be frank, you never cared.

after about two more sloth-like customers the cashier finally called you two up, gave common courtesy and asked for your orders. the beanie wearing girl just decided to order for the both of you to get things done quickly and pay for the both of y'all.

"good afternoon— may i please get two orders of . . ."

as your friend is ordering, you slowly but surely zone out. now, your eyes are comfortably out of focus and it feels like the loud noise is slowly coming to an end within an instant, distorted and further away. within a matter of seconds you're day dreaming, and it brings you comfort.

so much dramatic, unexpected comfort.

but it all came to an end when you see a hand being swatted in your face like a giant fly on crack, and you immediately realize that you're not alone. you're here. just like everybody else, and now you have an attitude. great, exactly what you wanted. somebody to approach you.

now just who the fuck is this?

you slap the hand out of your face, not even knowing who it belongs to.

the culprit winces in pain and you had to squint your eyes to see who it was for a bit. iyana was a bit caught of guard but the random sound of a loud slap, before she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back towards the workers preparing your subs, telling them what toppings you both wanted.

she obviously and immediately recognized them. him.

but you obviously didn't, so you take a step back because he was too damn close for comfort. but he was mighty fine— shoulder length brunette hair pulled up in what he probably called an excuse for a bun. but it look like he tried to carelessly cover it up with a plain black beanie.

stray hairs obviously out, framing his alluring face. emerald green eyes that now naturally gazed at you with a hint of annoyance. because why you slap him like that?

those unnecessarily long eyelashes could almost make a girl drop dead out of sheer jealousy. a simple hoop nose piercing and silver stud earrings that glistened beneath the mall light. neck tattoos peaking from beneath the black sweater that he wore under a black north-face puffer coat. pale green cargos and military black retro jordan 4's. seems like a slut, is what you concluded to.

but even after all of that blank staring you still didn't know who the fuck he was and why the fuck he was in your face. he seemed kind of confused by your own confusion almost as if he expected you to happily greet him— in which you didn't.

". . . you're y/n, right?"

you blinked. "i don't know, who askin?"

the mans lips slowly curled into slight smirk. "shit ma, you really don't remember me? eren?"

your eyes widened. "oh shit, eren?" as in eren yeager?

a glint appeared in your eyes as quickly as it left. you finally recognized him— the nigga was an old friend of . . . of—

he engulfed you in a sudden hug, slightly rocking you back and forth. and you just accepted, not really in the mood to protest. he smelt good anyways. comforting and familiar. and he looked so different. at least to you, considering the fact that iyana recognized him immediately. or . . maybe you just didn't want to remember.

"how you been, y/n? haven't seen you in a minute. you lookin' good as hell." the [ taller / shorter ] man grinned, letting you go and tilting his head, observing you like you once did him with his hands shoved back in his pockets.

you pursed your lips at his compliment. he better stop or you'll jump on his dick. shit, it's not even you it's the ovulation.

"i've been aight, i guess. i mean, i'm still breathing." and he just nodded in understanding.

"that's wassup. but . ." and you knew exactly what was coming next, and you resisted the urge to walk away. coincidentally, iyana happened to finally receive the food the same time this nigga eren asked,

"how's you and cameron tho?"

NEVA CARED
beastaarz

neicy speaking:
i'm watchin u. gangsta.