Categories > Anime/Manga > Attack on Titan
Making Friends: Health Class
1 reviewLevi was just minding his own goddamn business when some dude just planted his ass next to him before the start of gym class.
1Funny
More than anything, I’d like to go dive into a huge pool of clear, refreshing water to cool me down. It’s not like I’m sweating madly like a pig right now; I’m just slightly antsy feeling annoyed by the humidity, and maybe a tad bit cranky.
My pits are slowly starting to moisten as I look around me. My classmates are starting to fill in the small classroom and fuss over where they’ll change into their P.E. uniform. As for me, I didn’t bring anything with me. That’s because I got here already wearing my joggers. A smart move, you might think, but actually I just didn’t bother with laundry at all even though I’m usually very anal about being a neat freak; and I don’t mean I’m a conventional OCD character. I’m just really frustrated when it comes to my sanitary habits. I get very lazy, you see. Very, very, very lazy. That’s my one true weakness. One say, my laziness will become my end. But right now, I’m not letting myself wither away. Although I’d very much like to –I’d rather wither away in a peaceful place surrounded by calm and placid air. Seeing as I’m not in such a place, withering away is not that important now and is definitely not an option at the moment.
A student whose name I could never recall tried to make conversation with me. I couldn’t believe that someone was dim-witted enough to come and talk to me. I had no clue what he was going on about but soon we were discussing (well more like he was, I was busy pretending not to listen) about Le Guin and her works of art, since he remembered he saw me one time reading a copy of “The Atuan Tombs” in a fairly secluded area at the college library. Even though I was showing complete disinterest outside–inside I felt surprise at how one person in this room could even make decent banter–let alone be knowledgeable about such a great, award-winning writer such as Le Guin.
The brat (I’ve decided ultimately that he is absolutely one) ungracefully sat his plump ass in the vacant seat next on the left. Right next to mine, correction—practically flush against my own seat. I tried my best not to flinch at the unwanted close proximity of another human that I have no intention of associating myself with (I wasn’t really keen on socializing with anything at all) and braced myself for whatever torture this punk was going to give me. I sensed a chatter bug aura emanating from him and felt like he would miserably (that means my misery) give a go at talking my ear off.
I suppose I pitied him, because I actually turned my head a fraction of an inch in this general direction. He suddenly stopped blabbering about something (Sparrowhawk, I presume) and his abrupt halt caused me to fully turn and look at him.
And boy, did I look at him.
I’m probably not the first to ever say this about this stranger but ―holy fuck―this kid was baked straight out of God Almighty’s “perfect recipe” oven. I wouldn’t want to dramatize and describe him with the most eloquent and flowery words there are known to man―even if I don’t know half of them―but I fucking will anyways.
The skin that graced his visage was more appealing and seductive than anything else I’ve seen. What a perfect nose, god-fucking luscious lips. I don’t even think I could form another sentence. I just want to stare at him. Something is drawing me to him. What is it? What is it? Oh, I know―I know. It’s that subtle smouldering look he’s giving me. Fuck. His eyes were just so intense. They held such emotion and strength that I’ve never seen before. There was something about those amazing, glittering eyes that made me want to bring myself closer and closer until there no space left to occupy. I’m already lost in them―whatever thought I had earlier were long gone and I just wanted to be swallowed whole by his eyes.
I realize I was gaping like a sour fish (oh, what a cliché line!) when he seemed to be staring at me earnestly as well.
“What?” I spat out.
“Nothing, I just, um...I just thought you weren’t paying attention to what I was saying.” He replied quietly. Hmmm, it turns out the brat is quite attentive after all. “You thought right, then. I wasn’t”. His eyebrows (which were a little on the thick side) furrowed a little and for a second I thought he would try to reprimand me, say something insulting. Tell me I’m rude. Try to chastise me for my untoward behaviour and lack of courtesy. But as soon as I opened my mouth to prepare for a rebuttal, he smiled at me. Well what a fucking pity. His smile wasn’t as spellbinding as I thought it would be. I didn’t even know I was expecting anything. “That’s okay, I understand. It’s kinda weird having a stranger just talk to you out of the blue. Hell―I’d even say it was kinda creepy especially since my opening line was about me taking note of your literary choices. Since that would imply that I’m stalking you, or I was watching you before or something. But I was just observing, really! It didn’t mean anything weird.”
His answer was a little sheepish, somehow guarded and maybe even off-putting for anyone else. Not for me. I spend my days observing nitwits and judging them silently in whatever nook or cranny I’ve crammed my dainty stature into. So naturally what he said did not faze me. This was me he was talking to. This was me he was talking about. “Nobody’s dared fixing their eyes on me. They’d have their eyes gauged out. It’s not a pretty sight. I don’t take kindly to people I don’t give a flying fuck about. Most especially, specifically, particularly shitfreaks who are reckless enough and dumb enough to even think of even approaching me.” I warned him straight out. It would be better if he learned to be wary (which is the only smart, sensible thing to do) and tread oh so carefully on this dangerous path he was leaning towards. Many have tried to trek it and many have failed to even raise their foot for a single step. I could even go as far as to saying that the only survivors did not get to finish unharmed and unbroken (both figuratively and in real life).
“Well that’s a shame,” he started, “I’m sure if you’d give them the time of day then they’d find you to be an interesting person and you the same.” His statement shocked me. And for more than one reason:
One, this dumbass didn’t even stand back and back away;
Two, this dumbshit was brazen enough to make assumptions about what I would or wouldn’t have done; and finally―
Three, this dumbfuck seemed to have lost his mind (if it wasn’t lost already) because he did not just―he did not―tell me what to fucking do.
And instead of reacting like a shitty-brained, underdeveloped chimp (I’m not referring to someone I know, I swear.). I opted for a brash, “You don’t know me.” Wow, how terrible, how snarky. That’s surely going to frighten him off. (Notice my excessively heavy sarcasm.) “Yes that’s true, totally true. I don’t know you. And this is why I’ve gathered my wits and courageously waddled my way over here to get to know you.” Fucking hell. This little fucker had some big guts. He’s also got a real big mouth on him and a very big attitude to match. At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if that wasn’t the only thing that’s big on his—“You must think you’re such a jester? Must be feeling rather smug right now huh? Are you openly mocking me? What is this, some childish dare from your blubbering friends? Are you even aware of whom you’re speaking to?” I said. “If I did then I wouldn’t be trying desperately to take your time. You seem so strung up and cold, and like you said―unkind. And yet here I am, still speaking to you and being a humongous idiot for making a fool out of myself.” he finished as his stupid gaze bore into me. “If you knew all that then why waste your fucking time then, Sunshine?” I quipped.
His brow shot up at the nickname, but showed no indignation to comment on it. “Because my friend, I don’t believe in outer appearances. I don’t believe in judging a book by its cover. Therefore ‘m being more pushy and well, you know...” he flashed me another grin as he trailed off. That smile seemed more dazzling (than it was in my head, as I previously imagined) at this moment, because he was full-on, straight-up, full of shit. Is it possible that I’ve finally found (even if I was the one who was sought out) someone in this mundane school who’s partially worthy of my precious, rarely-given, VIP-only attention?
“Alright, I may be a famous asshole, but I’ll give you a chance. I don’t even have a clue on what’s going on in my fucking mind right now. But fuck you and your fucking pure conviction, I’m just going to wing it and let the chips fall as they may.” I realized I was whispering to him and that our faces were very close as I had to lean backward after my little speech. I’ll just let it pass off as me not wanting others to get any ideas that I’m suddenly cuddly, friendly, and puking rainbow sprinkles; which isn’t entirely untrue.
The awful brat seemed to space out for an instant and then hastily snatched my right hand (I didn’t even detect where it was; and that’s obviously fucking stupid because it’s connected to my body) and shook it. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you. My name is Eren Jaeger. As in like, German and everything.” Thankfully I got to retrieve my hand as I introduced myself. “The name’s Levi. That’s L-E-V-I, with an emphasis on the first half. Levi Ackerman.”
“So, Levi spelled like L-E-V-I Ackerman. About Ged and—“he didn’t get to finish what he was saying because I immediately cut him off. “You do not say a wizard’s true name out loud.” I just had a weird geek-out right there, but as always, my face remained impassive. I don’t know what came over me, but since that’s the only available topic I could discuss with this brat (discuss coherently, mind you) I figured it didn’t matter much as long as I pretend that that was a completely normal thing for anyone to do.
As I looked at his face, his expression was too priceless not to commit to memory (I had this feeling I’d be seeing more of it from now on), he began to smile, real tauntingly slow and told me with fucking sunshine literally pouring from his oceanic eyes, “I think we’re going to be great, great friends then, Shortstuff."
My pits are slowly starting to moisten as I look around me. My classmates are starting to fill in the small classroom and fuss over where they’ll change into their P.E. uniform. As for me, I didn’t bring anything with me. That’s because I got here already wearing my joggers. A smart move, you might think, but actually I just didn’t bother with laundry at all even though I’m usually very anal about being a neat freak; and I don’t mean I’m a conventional OCD character. I’m just really frustrated when it comes to my sanitary habits. I get very lazy, you see. Very, very, very lazy. That’s my one true weakness. One say, my laziness will become my end. But right now, I’m not letting myself wither away. Although I’d very much like to –I’d rather wither away in a peaceful place surrounded by calm and placid air. Seeing as I’m not in such a place, withering away is not that important now and is definitely not an option at the moment.
A student whose name I could never recall tried to make conversation with me. I couldn’t believe that someone was dim-witted enough to come and talk to me. I had no clue what he was going on about but soon we were discussing (well more like he was, I was busy pretending not to listen) about Le Guin and her works of art, since he remembered he saw me one time reading a copy of “The Atuan Tombs” in a fairly secluded area at the college library. Even though I was showing complete disinterest outside–inside I felt surprise at how one person in this room could even make decent banter–let alone be knowledgeable about such a great, award-winning writer such as Le Guin.
The brat (I’ve decided ultimately that he is absolutely one) ungracefully sat his plump ass in the vacant seat next on the left. Right next to mine, correction—practically flush against my own seat. I tried my best not to flinch at the unwanted close proximity of another human that I have no intention of associating myself with (I wasn’t really keen on socializing with anything at all) and braced myself for whatever torture this punk was going to give me. I sensed a chatter bug aura emanating from him and felt like he would miserably (that means my misery) give a go at talking my ear off.
I suppose I pitied him, because I actually turned my head a fraction of an inch in this general direction. He suddenly stopped blabbering about something (Sparrowhawk, I presume) and his abrupt halt caused me to fully turn and look at him.
And boy, did I look at him.
I’m probably not the first to ever say this about this stranger but ―holy fuck―this kid was baked straight out of God Almighty’s “perfect recipe” oven. I wouldn’t want to dramatize and describe him with the most eloquent and flowery words there are known to man―even if I don’t know half of them―but I fucking will anyways.
The skin that graced his visage was more appealing and seductive than anything else I’ve seen. What a perfect nose, god-fucking luscious lips. I don’t even think I could form another sentence. I just want to stare at him. Something is drawing me to him. What is it? What is it? Oh, I know―I know. It’s that subtle smouldering look he’s giving me. Fuck. His eyes were just so intense. They held such emotion and strength that I’ve never seen before. There was something about those amazing, glittering eyes that made me want to bring myself closer and closer until there no space left to occupy. I’m already lost in them―whatever thought I had earlier were long gone and I just wanted to be swallowed whole by his eyes.
I realize I was gaping like a sour fish (oh, what a cliché line!) when he seemed to be staring at me earnestly as well.
“What?” I spat out.
“Nothing, I just, um...I just thought you weren’t paying attention to what I was saying.” He replied quietly. Hmmm, it turns out the brat is quite attentive after all. “You thought right, then. I wasn’t”. His eyebrows (which were a little on the thick side) furrowed a little and for a second I thought he would try to reprimand me, say something insulting. Tell me I’m rude. Try to chastise me for my untoward behaviour and lack of courtesy. But as soon as I opened my mouth to prepare for a rebuttal, he smiled at me. Well what a fucking pity. His smile wasn’t as spellbinding as I thought it would be. I didn’t even know I was expecting anything. “That’s okay, I understand. It’s kinda weird having a stranger just talk to you out of the blue. Hell―I’d even say it was kinda creepy especially since my opening line was about me taking note of your literary choices. Since that would imply that I’m stalking you, or I was watching you before or something. But I was just observing, really! It didn’t mean anything weird.”
His answer was a little sheepish, somehow guarded and maybe even off-putting for anyone else. Not for me. I spend my days observing nitwits and judging them silently in whatever nook or cranny I’ve crammed my dainty stature into. So naturally what he said did not faze me. This was me he was talking to. This was me he was talking about. “Nobody’s dared fixing their eyes on me. They’d have their eyes gauged out. It’s not a pretty sight. I don’t take kindly to people I don’t give a flying fuck about. Most especially, specifically, particularly shitfreaks who are reckless enough and dumb enough to even think of even approaching me.” I warned him straight out. It would be better if he learned to be wary (which is the only smart, sensible thing to do) and tread oh so carefully on this dangerous path he was leaning towards. Many have tried to trek it and many have failed to even raise their foot for a single step. I could even go as far as to saying that the only survivors did not get to finish unharmed and unbroken (both figuratively and in real life).
“Well that’s a shame,” he started, “I’m sure if you’d give them the time of day then they’d find you to be an interesting person and you the same.” His statement shocked me. And for more than one reason:
One, this dumbass didn’t even stand back and back away;
Two, this dumbshit was brazen enough to make assumptions about what I would or wouldn’t have done; and finally―
Three, this dumbfuck seemed to have lost his mind (if it wasn’t lost already) because he did not just―he did not―tell me what to fucking do.
And instead of reacting like a shitty-brained, underdeveloped chimp (I’m not referring to someone I know, I swear.). I opted for a brash, “You don’t know me.” Wow, how terrible, how snarky. That’s surely going to frighten him off. (Notice my excessively heavy sarcasm.) “Yes that’s true, totally true. I don’t know you. And this is why I’ve gathered my wits and courageously waddled my way over here to get to know you.” Fucking hell. This little fucker had some big guts. He’s also got a real big mouth on him and a very big attitude to match. At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if that wasn’t the only thing that’s big on his—“You must think you’re such a jester? Must be feeling rather smug right now huh? Are you openly mocking me? What is this, some childish dare from your blubbering friends? Are you even aware of whom you’re speaking to?” I said. “If I did then I wouldn’t be trying desperately to take your time. You seem so strung up and cold, and like you said―unkind. And yet here I am, still speaking to you and being a humongous idiot for making a fool out of myself.” he finished as his stupid gaze bore into me. “If you knew all that then why waste your fucking time then, Sunshine?” I quipped.
His brow shot up at the nickname, but showed no indignation to comment on it. “Because my friend, I don’t believe in outer appearances. I don’t believe in judging a book by its cover. Therefore ‘m being more pushy and well, you know...” he flashed me another grin as he trailed off. That smile seemed more dazzling (than it was in my head, as I previously imagined) at this moment, because he was full-on, straight-up, full of shit. Is it possible that I’ve finally found (even if I was the one who was sought out) someone in this mundane school who’s partially worthy of my precious, rarely-given, VIP-only attention?
“Alright, I may be a famous asshole, but I’ll give you a chance. I don’t even have a clue on what’s going on in my fucking mind right now. But fuck you and your fucking pure conviction, I’m just going to wing it and let the chips fall as they may.” I realized I was whispering to him and that our faces were very close as I had to lean backward after my little speech. I’ll just let it pass off as me not wanting others to get any ideas that I’m suddenly cuddly, friendly, and puking rainbow sprinkles; which isn’t entirely untrue.
The awful brat seemed to space out for an instant and then hastily snatched my right hand (I didn’t even detect where it was; and that’s obviously fucking stupid because it’s connected to my body) and shook it. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you. My name is Eren Jaeger. As in like, German and everything.” Thankfully I got to retrieve my hand as I introduced myself. “The name’s Levi. That’s L-E-V-I, with an emphasis on the first half. Levi Ackerman.”
“So, Levi spelled like L-E-V-I Ackerman. About Ged and—“he didn’t get to finish what he was saying because I immediately cut him off. “You do not say a wizard’s true name out loud.” I just had a weird geek-out right there, but as always, my face remained impassive. I don’t know what came over me, but since that’s the only available topic I could discuss with this brat (discuss coherently, mind you) I figured it didn’t matter much as long as I pretend that that was a completely normal thing for anyone to do.
As I looked at his face, his expression was too priceless not to commit to memory (I had this feeling I’d be seeing more of it from now on), he began to smile, real tauntingly slow and told me with fucking sunshine literally pouring from his oceanic eyes, “I think we’re going to be great, great friends then, Shortstuff."
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