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Are you not Entertained?

Part 5: Now Playing...

----------------- a/n: Teasing my Jean fic soon... it starts getting juicy after this part! Part 4

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You barely heard the door open down the hall; you were focused, your guitar resting in your lap, plugged into the amp beside you as your laptop sat on top, tabs flashing across your screen as you played While My Guitar Gently Weeps. You were completely unbothered by the fact that other people were in the building, probably others trying to escape the stress of the week on a Thursday night, trying to find that little bit of calm to be able to fully enjoy a Friday off; at least that was your reasoning and escaping your pestering friends. You strummed with ease, tapping your foot along as each lyric coming from your lips was releasing the tension from your week. You smiled thinking about the song. Before he went to practice, you were telling Reiner that having this song mastered was your goal for the night. You still hadn’t gotten a reply, yet his presence in your head was enough to keep you motivated. You paused, sliding your pick between your teeth, marking the tab on your laptop, writing in a thought. You continued, repeating the part you had just stopped at, repeating the phrase, trying to get the plucking pattern down.

I don’t know why, nobody told you, how to unfold your love

The door opened, and there stood the man you couldn’t get out of your head the entire week. He stood captivated by you, as you glanced up smiling, muting the strings of your guitar quickly.

“Reiner?” The name barely came out, short of breath, startled by his presence. He shut the door behind him, sitting on the piano bench beside you.

“W-what are you doing here?” You stuttered.

“Jean forgot something, and- and I heard you. I didn’t know it was you- I just- keep going, please don’t let me stop you,” he scratched at his head. Despite mentally preparing in the hallway, he was still a nervous wreck in front of you. His shoulders raised, his body stiff, his knuckles white from the fists he was making, his eyes returned to the same tense state they were normally in. You blushed, your once steady fingers now shaky along the muted strings, at how close he was to you.

“What are you doing here?” You repeated the question.

“I don’t know, I was-” he sighed, rubbing his forehead, standing up slowly, “I’ll see you Saturday.” You began to play again as he was about to leave.

With every mistake, we must surely be learning. Still my guitar gently weeps

He stopped; your breath hitched at the end of your phrase, your heart pounding up into your throat; watching him stand in the doorway. You didn’t want him to leave, but you knew who was waiting for him. His thoughts filled with the two of you sitting after lunch; he had his chance there and missed it; he had his chance at the house and missed it. Just something simple was all he needed to say, but his heart took over. He slowly approached you, leaning down. You swallowed deeply, your eyes wide, your face bright red to the tips of your ears. You felt his unsteady breath on your cheek before his lips quickly grazed your flushed face.

“You sound beautiful,” he grinned in your ear. Your whole body grew warm and fuzzy as he stepped back, taking one last look at you, the tension in his shoulders easing completely from when he first came in. He smiled at you one more time before leaving the room. You listened to his footsteps grow quieter as he stepped farther down the hall, and were greeted by the sight of his group still waiting for Jean.

You began to pack your things, slamming your laptop shut, a smile stretching across your face, beautiful. You hurried out of the room, the word echoing through your head, walking briskly down the hall, approaching the familiar group.

“Bye guys,” you quickly shot through the group with a smile and wave, your face pink, your teeth flashing a blinding smile. You practically jogged to your apartment, sighing as you shut the door behind you, quickly putting down your things, finding Eren and Mikasa bundled together under a blanket on your couch. You let out a long dreamy sigh, approaching the two on the couch, standing behind, wrapping your arms around them, holding them close.

“The fuck?” Mikasa scoffed.

“Someone’s happy,” Eren laughed. You let go of the two, still grinning, as you walked into your room. You quickly got ready for bed, your hand touching the spot on your cheek, warm from your blushing. You flopped on your bed, pulling the hat off your headboard, tracing your thumb over the brim, the new part of your nightly routine, before hanging it back up, drifting off to sleep thinking about your little moment in the practice room.

You woke up early, despite being out late; you were not off your high. You quickly grabbed your phone from beside you; 8 am. You quickly opened your messages with Reiner, your fingers shaking from excitement; you could barely type out the three words you were trying to send.

Good luck today!

After intense focus and many spelling errors, you finally got to the perfect sentence, sliding on your headphones, listening to The Cure, as you got dressed for your day. You crept out into the living room, making yourself a cup of coffee, dancing around your kitchen as quietly as you could, but your excitement betrayed you. The door to Mikasa’s room slowly cracked open, revealing her messy bed head with Eren already standing completely ready beside her. You draped your headphones around your neck,

“Sorry, was I too loud?” you asked.

“No,” Mikasa yawned, pushing down the messy ends of her hair, “but why are you up?” You were not a morning person; you scheduled all your classes to begin at 10 am or later. It was rare you would be up before 9 am, especially on a Friday when you had no class at all. You sipped your coffee, acting like that was what was giving you your energy spurt, and not the butterflies occupying your stomach.

“I don’t know, just woke up early,” you smiled from the cup, “why are you up?”

“It’s gameday, Y/N,” Eren ground his teeth into a smile, trying to look intimidating, but you laughed at the goofy smile that was across his face.

“Yes, I know,” you said, glancing at Mikasa, who had finally started to gain some morning consciousness. The two exchanged a kiss goodbye before Eren headed out; watching them made you feel bubbly.

“What?” She said, seeing the smirk across your face.

“Nothing,” you rumaged the fridge, trying to hide your giddy expression.

“It’s not nothing. Something happened last night; you are never that happy after being in a practice room for hours,” she leaned beside you, peeking into the fridge, grabbing one of her parfait containers.

“I had a good practice session, that’s all,” you bit your lip, pulling out the bag of bagels, turning away from her.

“Y/N, I know you, something happened,” she caught your wrist as you turned.

“I’ll tell you later,” you shrugged her off; that was enough for her. You put your headphones back on, nodding along to the music as you waited for your bagel. She shook her head at you, stubborn, she thought. Your phone lit up on the counter, Reiner. You went to reach for it, but stopped yourself, feeling the eyes of your already suspicious roommate glued to you, pulling your hand back slowly.

“So today?” You asked, “What’s this whole ‘watch party’ thing like?” You joined her on your couch, interrupting whatever show she was watching. She paused the TV, leaning back, giving you a look of unimportance.

“A lot of gossip normally, but because it’s here, it will probably be more actual focus on the game. Sasha brings snacks and usually eats most of them herself so you and I can run out and grab stuff for the others. Pieck usually shows up late or leaves early, and Hitch has no clue what’s going on most of the time, so one of us ends up explaining the game to her,” she sighed.

“Because I’m here, less gossip,” you corrected her.

“Sure, but if you tell this little secret you’re keeping from me when the others are here, it will be no different than normal.” She hit play on the TV, her eyelids sinking with focus, as she picked at her yogurt.

“Hmm, maybe it won’t be much different than normal,” you hummed, leaving the couch with your now empty plate.

“Fuck you,” she groaned.

“I love you too,” you gave her a shit-eating grin as you cleaned your plate.

“Gym at 11, store after, everyone should be here at 6,” you nodded at her list. You spent the next few hours beside her in your living room, getting strangely invested in her show; you two were polar opposites when it came to media, yet this had your interest, completely forgetting about the message on your phone until another showed up.

Thanks, ur up early?

Heading on the bus, no service.

You frowned at the message, happy it was there, but sad that whatever reply you sent wouldn’t matter for a few hours.

“Would you just tell me,” she called from her open room as she got ready for the gym.

“Tell you what?” you played dumb.

“What you’re staring at your phone like that for,” she came out, the two of you both dressed in black sports bras and gym shorts, a headband held her bangs out of her face, while your hair was pulled back.

“Patience, Mikasa,” you said, taking the liberty of filling up both of your water bottles, glancing at the phone on your counter.

Yeah, too excited!

You quickly tucked your phone into your pocket, leaving him in suspense about when he would see the message, enticing him to ask more, even though you most certainly knew he would figure it out.

End of the Bus Ride

“Staring isn’t going to change the fact you have no service,” Bertholdt said, pulling Reiner out of his trance.

“I know that,” Reiner sighed, picking at the stubble across his chin. The bus was chaotic, Jean, Connie, and some of the others sitting towards the back, by the speaker, yelling back and forth over the piercing guitars of AC/DC. Porco and Colt sat retaping their sticks as they did before every game; Floch sat up front with the coaches pitching one-of-a-kind plays that he swore would save the game every single time, yet it was never run. Eren sat, head tilting back and forth with the jolting of the bus, getting a nap in; everyone had their routine, yet the thought of you was interrupting Reiner and Bertholdt’s. The two would usually sit, staring out the window, talking about the other team’s weaknesses and strengths, and how they could approach them, their own little debrief before getting in the locker room. Every time they began, a phantom vibration would take away Reiner’s focus.

“Reiner, what happened last night? I get if you don’t want to talk about it with the others, but with me?” Bertholdt pried. Reiner gestured him over, freeing the open seat next to him that was occupied by his bag.

“If this is the one thing you choose to say, I swear,” Reiner smirked, rubbing his head.

“I won’t,” Bertholdt leaned in closer.

“I kissed her,” Reiner said just above a whisper. Bertholdt’s eyes widened, biting his tongue.

“Wow,” he said.

“That’s it,” Reiner’s brows furrowed.

“I see why you kept it to yourself,” Bertholdt sighed, peeking his head around the seat to make sure there were no witnesses.

“And it better stay that way,” Reiner said. Bertholdt nodded. The two picked up their routine as normal, now that you were no longer a distraction, for now. The bus came to a halt; Connie ran to the front, getting off first, greeting all the guys as they got off, before reaching the unlocked storage beneath the bus, pulling out each bag, calling out names, as they filed into the rink.

5:30, Annie arrived at your apartment; you were all showered, wearing a hockey hoodie borrowed from Mikasa. You wanted to fit the part of this new world you were entering tonight. She helped lay out the snacks you bought at the store across your kitchen island, leaving enough room on the counter for Sasha’s assortment. Your secret had been killing Mikasa slowly the whole day; at the gym you could see her visible frustration with having to wait; she was much more snappy than usual when you couldn’t decide which flavor of chips to get for tonight.

“Now that Annie’s here, spit it out.” The three of you were in the living room trying to make as much space as possible for your three guests to sit, pulling cushions out of your rooms to make the floor more comfortable if it came to that, angling the chairs at your small table to be facing the TV.

“Spit what out?” Annie asked, throwing herself on the couch, taking the spot before the others got there. Mikasa lowered the volume of your speaker, not giving you a chance to get out of it.

“Y/N has something she wants to share,” she glared at you. You flipped her off, throwing yourself on the couch next to Annie, your hands quickly balled into fists, rubbing them along your leggings-covered thighs.

“What the fuck did you do?” Annie laughed at the expression across your face. You breathed deep, your glare shifting to her as the tips of your ears flushed pink, your cheeks puffy, but finally, through pursed lips, you spat it out.

“He kissed me, Mikasa; he kissed me, happy?” You barked at her.

“Who kissed you?” Annie’s eyes narrowed; Mikasa fell into shock, and your conversation was scorched to a halt by a knock on your door.

“This isn’t over,” Mikasa said, standing up to get the door. A brunette with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail came tumbling through your door, hands full of almost the same amount of food the two of you went out and got, spreading it across your counter like it was routine. You recognized her; she had been one of Mikasa’s few other guests.

“Sasha, you remember Y/N?” she gestured toward you. Your face still pink from your confession, you quickly shot your hand up to wave, but she came barreling towards you.

“Hi Y/N, ooh this is so exciting, another nice girl to see at games,” Sasha was very bubbly. Before you could respond, she was already back off to the kitchen, picking at the plates of food she brought.

“Sorry I wasn’t there this weekend; the owners were away, which meant Nic’s luxury cooking all to myself. He found out before the game, so I just went straight there after practice,” you sat very confused. You had met maybe once, and yet she treated you like you were best friends already.

“Niccolo, her boyfriend, is one of the chefs at the tavern; Sasha plays soccer,” Annie whispered in your ear. You nodded, a smile forming on your face like you had a full grasp of the situation, even though you were still a little overwhelmed by her kindness.

“I saved some, don’t worry,” Sasha spread her arms out, presenting the plates in front of her. Your nose caught the wonderful aroma quickly, better than any scent that normally came from your cooking.

“Crab Rangoons, burger egg rolls, mozzarella sticks, and mini fruit tarts,” she pointed at the items in front of her.

“And that,” you pointed at the styrofoam takeout box; she lunged at it quickly, clutching it close to her.

“That’s mine,” she laughed, but still her grip on the box didn’t loosen.

“Sasha,” Mikasa sighed.

“Please help yourself; I will eat it all if you don’t act fast.” You knew she was being serious, quickly making yourself a plate before claiming a spot on the floor beside your coffee table. Your taste buds had been completely transformed by your first bite; she should come over more often.

“So who’d you kiss?” Annie whispered in your ear, reaching towards your plate; you quickly swatted her hand away.

“Not now,” you snapped, poking at your speaker, turning the volume back up. The two of you sat isolated, the ambiance keeping the two of you from bickering. Another knock on your door quickly followed; a girl with champagne blonde hair, cut just above her shoulders, came in with a lot of energy, a cooler under her arm. She looked slightly familiar; maybe you passed her at the party, but you definitely couldn’t point her out if you were there now.

“The drinks have arrived,” she cheered, bursting through your door. Her eyes caught you immediately; she kicked off her shoes and rushed over to you and Annie, distributing drinks accordingly.

“Annie, your favorite,” she smiled before looking at you.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, a little embarrassed.

“Of course you are,” she laughed. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a variety; help yourself.”

“You would have brought a variety anyway, Hitch,” Annie sighed. She was not one of the names previously mentioned when discussing the girls, but she held the cooler out to you anyway. You found a watermelon hard seltzer and were content.

“Thanks,” you said, cracking your can open.

“Good choice,” she smiled, joining Annie on the couch behind you. “No Armin?”

“Work,” Annie said.

“And Y/N, any boys?” she nudged your shoulder. You glared at Annie, who was snickering next to Hitch on your couch.

“It’s complicated,” Annie smirked.

“Annie,” you snapped. The other two joined quickly with plates of their own.

“What are we talking about?” Sasha asked, taking one of your armchairs.

“Boys,” Hitch grinned.

“What boys?” Mikasa asked, staring hard into your soul; you swallowed at her gaze.

“Annie said it’s complicated, but Y/N didn’t even get a chance to answer,” Hitch said. The floor was yours, saved by the bell, a knock on your door. You quickly stood up, rushing to get it.

“Thank god,” you sighed, opening the door to see Pieck.

“What happened?” you dragged her in.

“Boys,” you said softly.

“Oh…oh?” Her face perked up; you blushed. She put her bag down, took off her shoes, grabbed a plate, and took the other armchair.

“You want anything?” Hitch tapped the cooler beside her.

“No, I have to work tonight,” Pieck sighed.

“Boo,” she jeered, taking a large sip from her can. Mikasa cued up the livestream of the game, the timer slowly ticking down as the group of you sat talking. You let out an internal sigh of relief as the subject of you had been dropped, yet Mikasa and Annie still had their attention on you; each tick of the timer felt like ticking down impending doom. You were a time bomb ready to explode, feeling their gazes on you. Your phone buzzed in your lap; quickly taking it, Pieck leaned over your shoulder.

“Boys?” She whispered. You rolled your eyes, opening the message.

Good, you watching?

You grinned at the message, quickly covering your mouth, trying to hide your smile when Oohs and Ahs cooed around you.

“Y/N, we don’t keep secrets here,” Sasha smiled.

“Don’t pressure her,” Pieck said. “She doesn’t even know if it’s anything yet,”

“How do you know?” Hitch was surprised.

“Because Y/N and I talk,” Pieck smirked, crossing her arms.

“Sash is right, though; no secrets in this room,” Mikasa said.

Yes, I will be. Now focus; you have a game to play 😊

You sent the text, placing your phone gently in your lap, finally looking up at the group around you; their chatter only kept you more focused on typing out your message.

“Y/N,” Annie said, “we’re waiting.”

“For what?” You rejoined the conversation.

“Helloooo, who were you just texting?” Hitch laughed.

“No one,” you said.

“No secrets,” Sasha smiled. You looked at Pieck; she nodded toward your room. The two of you stood up.

“Hey!” Hitch yelled.

“Relax,” Pieck said. “We’ll be back in a second.” A hush fell over the living room when the two of you stepped into your room; you slowly shut the door behind you.

“Okay,” you breathed. Pieck looked around your room, smiling.

“Your room is so cool,” she said. You looked around yourself: the assortment of band posters on your wall, pictures of you, Annie, Mikasa, Eren, and Armin hanging above your bed, your guitar rack next to your desk, with a folded keyboard beside it; to you, it was just a mess of creativity.

“Thanks,” you smiled, her looking stopped at the hat on your headboard, the Warrior Hockey brand logo in full view.

“Is that-”

“Yes,” you blushed, taking it in your hands.

“Shut up!” She said.

“Well, I’ve had it since the party,” you traced your thumb over the brim like you did every night since getting it.

“Oh my god,” she gushed. You put it back up in its assigned place in your room, sitting on your bed now, steadying your breathing. You patted the bed beside you, but she remained standing.

“So what’s this secret? Are you together-”

“No, I don’t know- I just-” You cut her off, stuttering. She put her hands on her hips, impatient with your nervous act.

“What happened?” Her sleepy eyes sparkled with bits of life.

“He kissed me last night,” you sighed, flopping back on your bed like that was the hardest string of words you had ever spoken, your legs dangling over the side, kicking slightly with excitement as your hands covered your face.

“Where?” She asked, excited, sitting beside you now.

“A practice room,” you said, peeking at her through your fingers.

“No, Y/N, like where on you?” she laughed.

“My cheek,” your hand slid down your face to the spot it happened.

“Did he say anything?” She exclaimed; you shushed her loud reaction.

“Well, I was playing my guitar, and I guess he heard me, so ‘you sound beautiful’,” your face scrunched as you said it; it didn’t sound the same coming from you.

“Stop, aw-” she was interrupted by a knock on your door.

“Game is on, and you two are breaking the rules,” Hitch called through the door. The two of you stood up slowly; Pieck took your hands in hers, and you took a deep breath together before heading out.

“So, are you ready to share with the class?” Sasha laughed. You retook your seat on the floor, taking a nervous sip from your can.

“Fine,” you sighed. You shared the news the same way you told Pieck; the room erupted.

“You’re kidding,” Annie scoffed.

“No, I’m not,” you smiled. “You can’t tell them,” you pointed at Sasha and Mikasa.

“We won’t, well, I won’t,” Mikasa said.

“I won’t, I swear,” Sasha put her hand up like she was taking an oath.

“I can see it,” Hitch leaned back on the couch, framing your face with her hands, squinting. The game began; the six of you sat, attentive to the TV. Hitch asked questions as Mikasa said. The game wasn’t going well; your team was down 0-2 in the first ten minutes of the game, and it wasn’t looking promising; the entire period was practically being played on your end.

“Come on,” Annie groaned, “too many turnovers.” The puck trickled across the ice slowly, a pass from Porco to Reiner being swept up by someone on the opposing team.

“Fuck,” you sighed. Bertholdt saved it as you covered your eyes.

“Oh my god,” Sasha sighed. The entire room was on the edge of their seats when your team finally got possession again, quickly losing it.

“Pock, that’s your puck!” Pieck shouted at the TV, throwing her hands up in frustration. Number twenty on your team had someone trapped in the corner, as the lines changed.

“Get him!” Sasha shouted as number twenty-one came on, rushing to join him, quickly getting the puck, storming down the ice as fast as he could, three players against one, yet he was quick, ducking effortlessly around their attempted attacks.

“Yes!” Sasha cheered as he shot the puck, “No!” The puck had been saved. The first period came to a close.

“Well, that was rough,” Hitch pulled at her hair.

“Ya think,” Sasha rested her hand in her fist. You hugged your knees, playing with your hoodie string.

“Your boy looks a little distracted,” Annie nudged you.

“He’s not my- nevermind,” you were all in bad moods; if the team was losing, you were losing.

“I need another drink,” Hitch sighed, reaching for her cooler.

“Me too,” you said, shooting Annie a glare. Hitch handed you another watermelon seltzer as she grabbed a mango one for herself; the two of you clinked cans, cracking them open, taking a large gulp. You reached for your phone on the table while the ten-minute timer ticked down.

“I wouldn’t,” Mikasa said.

“He won’t answer,” Pieck said, “no phones during the game. Rules.” You looked at Sasha frantically typing on her phone.

“You’re texting Niccolo, aren’t you?” Hitch said.

“Maybe, okay, but you have to admit that was really close.” Twenty-one must have been him. You put your phone back down on the table, taking the opinions of others and staying out of it. The second period began the same way as the first, the other team coming out hot and scoring another goal. Jean got a penalty, sparking chaos, another fight breaking out, giving the team an advantage for the next five minutes.

“Wake up!” You yelled at the TV, watching your team frantically skate back and forth chasing after the puck. The opposing team crowded the net, your foot tapping sporadically against the floor, biting your lip, as you watched Bertholdt drop to his knees in desperation, trying to kick the puck free. All of you grabbed onto each other in fear, letting out a sigh when the play was blown dead. You moved to the couch with Hitch and Annie now; it was too stressful to be on the floor. Mikasa paced back and forth behind the three of you. Jean’s penalty had expired; the puck had been dumped out to center. He scooped it up quickly; all alone, he was in. He deked the goalie once, then twice, chipping it over the blocker, and scored. You all stood and cheered; Hitch held you, jumping up and down. The rest of the period remained uneventful; down by two goals, your team filed into the locker room.

Before the Third Period

“We’re fucking dying out there, and you pull that shit,” Floch shouted at Jean.

“Don’t you fucking start; at least I scored,” Jean snapped, throwing his helmet off into his stall. Jean approached Floch quickly, pushing his padding.

“Jean, it’s not worth it,” Niccolo stood up between the two.

“Fuck you, Nic,” Floch said.

“Fuck you,” Jean shouted. Porco, Reiner, and Bertholdt all sat with their heads down, Bertholdt’s skate tapped against the floor as he sank further into his padding. Reiner’s hands ran through his damp hair, and Porco bit his lip as the yelling continued. Jean pushed Niccolo out of the way, shoving Floch down into the seat behind him.

“Say something again,” Jean said.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Floch sneered.

“Jean don’t, you’re just giving him what he wants,” Eren said, as Jean’s eyes twisted into something ruthless.

“Keep him quiet,” Jean said through gritted teeth, heading back to his seat.

“Bert, wake the fuck up,” Floch made his final comment.

“That’s enough,” Porco stood up now, Floch joining him; the two stood chest to chest, pushing each other back and forth. Eren stood up, tugging the back of Floch’s jersey, trying to pull him off, but his grip was firm on Porco’s collar.

“Stop, you guys,” Eren pulled Floch harder.

“I hate you,” Porco said, pushing back one final time, breaking the grip free, “and what the hell is wrong with you?” he slapped Reiner on the back.

“What?” Reiner said, his eyes still glued to the floor.

“You’ve been off all night,” Porco said. Reiner didn’t answer, his foot tapped quickly against the floor, his face flush from skating and from the team catching on.

“Let him be; he’s fine,” Eren said.

“No, he’s not fine,” Jean chimed in. “Get up.” He put his helmet on, approaching Reiner sitting across from him; the two stood over him. Reiner stood up, doing the same, the helmet pushing down his sweat-ridden hair, snapping the strap.

“Lock the fuck in,” Porco began. Jean stood chest to chest with Reiner, the cages of their helmets against each other, as Jean took his shoulders.

“I don’t know what the fuck happened to you, but go the fuck out there and knock some heads off, alright?” Jean smacked his shoulder.

“Alright,” Reiner mumbled.

“What was that?” Jean smirked.

“Alright,” he said louder.

“Alright?” Jean shouted.

“Alright,” Reiner yelled, pushing him back.

“Zams off, come on out,” Connie opened the door, peeking his head in.

“Fuck yeah,” Porco cheered, rubbing Reiner’s helmet with his glove.

--------------

You and Pieck sat in your room during intermission, talking as she got ready for work.

“You’re sure you can’t stay? No one can cover for you?” You whined.

“I got off tomorrow in exchange for tonight, so,” she smiled, holding out her hand.

“Anything planned after the game tomorrow?” You handed her a clip, watching her tousle her hair until she had it to her satisfaction, checking herself in your closet mirror.

“My bar is having karaoke night; they love that.”

“You’re kidding,” you laughed, slack-jawed.

“I wish I was. Jean and Connie get really into it,” she shook her head.

“Why am I not surprised?” you sighed. “You really want to spend your day off at work?”

“It's different when I’m not working, you’ll see. Now, how do I look?” She did a small spin for you; there was nothing that could really be wrong, dressed in all black, and hair clipped back, her curtain bangs still hanging low.

“You’re serving,” you smirked. She took the hat off your headboard, approaching you.

“For good luck,” she smiled, adjusting the size before putting it on your head. You nodded, taking a look at yourself before leaving your room.

“What’s that?” Hitch asked as you stepped out.

“For good luck,” you nodded at Pieck as she made her way to your door.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She waved, shutting the door behind her. The five of you now sat on the edge of your seats as the third and final period began. You didn’t know what happened, but the team came out ready and refreshed, looking brand new. It was exhilarating: a quick goal from Eren to start the period. Now only down by a goal, they were playing incredibly, making aggressive plays; the familiar slamming of boards rang through the TV under the sound of the commentator.

Two minutes left in the period, still down by a goal, Bertholdt was flying towards the bench giving your team the extra attacker, Jean, Eren, Colt, Reiner, Porco, and Niccolo, forming the ideal setup for a goal. Their passes were crisp, as minutes slowly turned into seconds, Jean skating around the defending players trying to get a clear shot.

“Shoot it, damn it!” Mikasa shouted, as if he heard her through the screen. Jean took the shot; it was loose in front, Colt and Niccolo prodding at it until it was in with five seconds left.

Niccolo skated off, hands up in the air, leaping into his teammates' arms; you looked at Sasha, squealing with delight at the TV. Three-on-three overtime, Hitch was nervously crunching her now empty seltzer can; you sat biting at your thumbnail, Mikasa continued pacing, Sasha stuffing her face, hugging the bag of chips, and Annie sat the calmest out of any of you, phone in hand, eyes picking up, looking at the nervous wrecks that all of you were.

The starting three: Eren, Jean, and Reiner on defense. It was the slowest five minutes you had ever experienced; your apartment was silent other than the commentary of the TV. The first three minutes were all the other team, getting difficult shots off, but Bertholdt was always there to stop them, making a huge kick save, leaving a juicy rebound.

“Go,” you said softly, as Jean took the puck, passing it up to center where Reiner was waiting.

“Go,” you said a little louder; it was a one-on-one battle. He faked once, sending the opposing player to their stomach, reaching for his stick, wristing it high over the goalie’s glove, and it was in. You, Sasha, and Hitch all cheered, squealing, standing up, clutching each other. Mikasa let out a long sigh of relief, and Annie watched you all smirking, rolling her eyes, going back to her phone.

“He shoots, and scores, number fourteen, Reiner Braun wins it in overtime,” the announcer's gritty, commanding voice rang through your apartment.

“That’s your man,” Hitch cheered, squeezing you tighter.

“Hitch,” you smiled sheepishly, a pink shade crawling up from your neck to your cheeks.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” she pouted, tapping the brim of your hat. The others helped you and Mikasa clean up before leaving; you got ready for bed quickly, taking a long look at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, trying to scrub the smile off your face. You lay in bed, sliding the hat off, tracing over the brim once with your thumb before hanging it up on your headboard, sending one final message before bed.

You were amazing!

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