It's amazing, sometimes, to realize that you can find yourself in need of a certain somebody, and never seem to pinpoint when, exactly, this became a problem in the first place. How can anyone become codependent on another individual so completely and utterly silently? It's like he'd come blustering in on a hurricane, and in the midst of the wreckage, tiptoed into the roped off area and started messing up everything. The worst part, perhaps, is that he likely didn't know the damages he'd done before scurrying out again to cause further issues.
Only worse is that while he was one of two that had some how worked their way into this special spot of his existence, he was the one who didn't really seem to know or accept the fact. And Eren can only acknowledge this with a heavy groan, pulling the pillow over his face against the darkness of his designated room, and hope that the feeling passes.
It doesn't. He needs someone to talk to right now. And despite how his childhood best friend would be the most accessible and willing, Armin managed to not be the first to come to mind. Mikasa, for a good multitude of reasons, was also exempt of his interests for the time being. Instead, his mind weighed on Jean, of all people.
With a hiss through his teeth that signified a defeat he would never allow the other the knowledge of, he thrusts aside his blankets, and with a practiced ease, heads up the stairway and navigates the maze of hallways to lead him to the room his male colleagues have been assigned.
A debate weighs on his mind, to at least pretend he attempted to wake up Armin for pride's sake, but by the time bare feet see him to the hazardously ajar door, he's already swallowed down what remained of his ego for the night. Beelining through the masses underneath white sheets, he pinpoints the bundle that must be Jean, and cringes at the fact he can tell from sleeping position alone, since the temperature in the room was uncomfortably cold enough to urge most of the boys to sleep underneath the blankets entirely.
Hesitance. Then, he places a hand on the other's shoulder -- or, assumed shoulder, at the very least, but it definitely feels like it is -- and shakes lightly. Hopefully he won't jump straight into nonsensically-loud-voice-upon-seeing-rival mode. " ... Jean. "
