"Sorry, y/n... I didn't mean to scare you."

Connie couldn't help but chuckle at your misfortune, despite being sincerely sorry that your phone was now sitting in a bowl of rice after you dropped it in the bathtub amidst your startled panic. He swore he was just checking in on you after hearing some questionable noise coming from the bathroom, thankfully he didn't seem to realize what was actually going on in there.

"It's alright, it should be fine after it dries for a while... I hope." You sigh, frustrated that you've allowed yourself to fall victim to lustful inhibitions— because now you may be out of a phone, and you certainly couldn't afford another one at this time.

"Could you let Jean know that I'm not really interested in going to that party? I'd tell him myself but... you know." You ask, motioning to your drowned device that still remains unconscious.

"Party? What party?" Connie's eyes light up with both curiosity and excitement— being the gregarious person he was, he's always down for any type of get-together.

"Oh, um— a friend of mine invited us to a party he's having. I'm not gonna go though, you know I'm not really into that stuff."

It wasn't a lie— you much preferred small gatherings with the four of you versus big college parties full of gross, drunken frat boys who smell of cheap beer and try to fuck anything with a pulse.

You were sure Armin's party would be different, but you just couldn't risk Jean and Eren being in the same place together at the same time. It was to dangerous, there was no way you could attend under these circumstances.

"Since when do you have friends?" Connie pressed on, teasingly. "No offense."

"Saying 'no offense' doesn't make it any less offensive." You gripe, plush lips pouted as you start to wonder why everyone keeps asking you this. Were you really that antisocial?

"Who is it? I might know 'em if they go to our school."

"His name's Armin." You say meekly, trying your best to conceal any nervous energy that threatens to escape.

"Oh shit— the blonde dude with the pretty ass eyes? I know him, he's in one of my classes."

You aren't surprised Connie would know him; truthfully Connie knows just about everyone. Still, it made your stomach churn with guilt at the fact that the nature of your infidelity was now all connecting with the people you were trying to hide it from in the first place; you knew it would come back to bite you in the ass if you kept treading in hazardous waters.

You had to stop.

Could you stop?

"You gotta go to that party y/n— please take me with you!" He practically begged, the look in his eyes that of a kid in a candy store. "He's loaded, wanna see how big his house is."

"It's pretty big." You admit carelessly, before quickly backtracking at your realization. "Not that I've seen it in person, he's told me.. about it."

"Yeah, whatever— just pleaseeee, please can we go?"

You were thankful for Connie's one track mind for allowing him to glaze over what you'd just said— but with him begging for a chance to go to the very house where you first cheated on Jean; there was no way you could allow it.

Too bad for you, Connie is very persistent when he wants something...

Which is exactly why the three of you were now on your way to Armin's house only a few hours later— Jean and Connie escorting you to a party you never wanted to attend in the first place.

Jean's hand was firmly intertwined with yours as the three of you waited at the door of Armin's house, while Connie was completely awestruck by just how extravagant his house really was. The music playing inside would be heard through the beautifully crafted wood, accompanied but the sounds of laughter and chattering from fellow party goers. You couldn't help but squeeze Jean's hand a little tighter as your nerves got the better of you— you never were great with these types of social outings.

"It's okay, baby." Jean rasps, noticing your anxious behavior. "I got you."

He smiles at you with gorgeous pools of almond brown— eyes that make you feel comfortable; familiar.

Suddenly the door swings open, Armin sports a cute little smile on his face and a dusty flush across his cheeks, presumably from a tad too much of alcohol consumption.

"Y/n! I'm so happy to see you!" He expresses gleefully, practically tearing you away from Jean's grasp to pull you into a sloppy hug.

He smells of expensive bourbon, clean linen and the tiniest bit of bergamot— the scent gracing your nose as the side of his cheek presses against yours. The warmth of his porcelain skin makes your pulse race, remembering the feeling of his body touching yours in a much different way.

"Come in!" He coos happily, smiling at the guests you've brought to accompany you.

Jean's quick to grab hold of you hand once more, hoping to avoid anymore surprise attacks from other guys lurking around the place.

You take a cautious glance of your surroundings, desperately searching for Eren's beguiling emerald eyes. He's no where within your line of sight, for now; maybe he decided not to show up? You could only be so lucky.

"What's your drink of choice?" Armin asks— the blur of the chaotic atmosphere has you heedless to the fact that he's led you all into the kitchen and already passing out cups of some strong concoction of alcohol that he freshly made for his guests.

"This is fine, thanks." You answer shyly, taking a sip of whatever was in your cup. It was sweet, but the familiar burn of booze stings your throat as it goes down, causing you to wince in discomfort.

"Am I that bad of a bartender?" He smirks playfully, his ocean eyes flickering towards your lips as you lick off the remnants.

"No, no— it's good! I just haven't drank in a while." You respond, smiling as you take another sip, this one going down easier than the first.

"Well, make yourselves comfortable— I've gotta go check on something real quick. Enjoy the party." He says smoothly, this time he makes eye contact with Jean, who's unsure of what to make of Armin's blissfully eerie demeanor.

Another quick glance around the room tells you that you've lost Connie in the sea of people— surely he's found someone to mingle with that he knows from school. It's just you and Jean now, standing awkwardly in the kitchen while being punched and pulled in different directions as people scramble into the kitchen to refill their cups.

"Let's go find somewhere quiet to talk." Jean says, leaning in closer to you so that you can hear what he says over the bustling atmosphere.

You nod in agreement, following closely behind him as he leads you through the crowd by the palm of your hand. You pass through several areas of Armin's home— each filled to the brim with friends of his and acquaintances alike, probably most of which he didn't even know well enough.

You certainly didn't recognize anyone here, as Jean dragged you along, each face you encountered became less and less familiar.

Until, your gaze caught a pair of haunting green eyes— eyes that made you feel tantalizing; free.

Eren's expression was begrudging as he looked at you over the shoulder of a woman with brown hair and freckled cheeks. The sight of you being pulled off somewhere with Jean stirred something within him— and it wasn't a desired emotion, to say the least.

What happened to your 'break?' The way you looked at him so apologetically, your expression fleeting with every step you took further and further away from him, where you should be— instead of with a man who you supposedly were done with.

How many fucking times does he have to prove it to you? He swore last night would've been enough.

Why wasn't it enough?

Once the two of you finally found a quiet place to talk, you sat down on the stoop of his back porch that was left barren since most of the party was inside. Armin's back yard was just as magnificent as the rest of his house— beautifully landscaped with exotic trees and freshly bloomed flowers. The sound of nocturnal wildlife only heighten the experience of romanticism that had bestowed its way into your meeting with Jean.

He looks so handsome in this instance; the way the moonlight casts an ethereal glow against his skin makes him look almost other worldly. Admittedly, it's been a while since you took the time to admire how good looking he is— when his eyes finally meet yours, your heart pounds wildly on instinct; it confirms what you already knew, dreadfully, that your heart still belongs to him in some twistedly toxic way.

It seems that Jean's studying you the same way you are him; his lips part ever so slightly as he sucks in a deep breath, as if all of it had escaped him the moment you looked at him with those beautiful (e/c) eyes.

Ironically enough, there wasn't much talking going on between the two of you, when that's exactly what you came out here to do in the first place.

Jean's eyes flit to your lips, as you absentmindedly chew at the bottom one; a nervous habit that you've unfortunately developed over time.

"Can I kiss you?"

He asks so sweetly, you aren't even sure it's Jean who's saying it— seeing as you've only heard that gentle tone of his in your memories, as of lately.

You card your hand through his ash-brown hair, your fingertips scratching at the dark undercut near the nape of his neck. You take a moment to think about what you're doing— though it only lasts a second until your lips are locked on his.

Maybe it was out of fear; fear that if you opened your mouth to say what had been weighing on your heart, you'd end up saying some that you'd undoubtedly regret.

This was typical of you, to replace words with physicality— it was just something you had become accustomed to.

You know what they say,

old habits die hard.

That's why you've found yourself seated on his lap, your legs placed at either side of his hips as the two of you meld together in a way that you haven't in a while. Kissing Jean, feeling his erection poke at your thighs through his denim felt different this time— perhaps you had gotten so used to Eren's touch, that you had forgotten what Jean's felt like.

Different; it wasn't bad by any means, but it wasn't entirely good either... you found yourself missing the way Eren's hands felt roaming your curves, grinding his hips against yours—

"Hey guys— oh."

The voice was familiar, immediately recognized as the voice of your best friend, Connie Springer.

The two of you break apart in embarrassment, seemingly forgetting where you were at in the heat of the moment.

"I didn't mean to interrupt... whatever was happening." He continues.

"A group of us are about to start a game— 'truth, dare or drink' ...