[ eren’s not into too many festivities— but here he is with a green soccer jersey on to keep the pinches away (belonging to the one and only king) and ear buds blasting some sort of devil’s rock music, he’s got his head low and thoughts running on recent happenings, work, everything important, all while having a german shepherd accompanying him by his heels.
he’s on his leash, an air force collar with his name on it (USAF: TITAN), and a muzzle just in case. a good thing, people felt more secure and they all can avoid a freak accident with other dogs. or, like in november, turkeys. eren notices the tiny dog up ahead a little too late to cross the street, so he holds the leash tight and preps to call titan’s attention if he went for a passing sniff, having yet to look up from his phone and playlist.
if the owner (owner?) said anything, eren didn’t quite hear it amidst aggressive, melodic screaming, only making the world renknown tsst and giving the shepherd’s leash a jerk away from the other dog. not that titan would do anything, but. you know. not everyone likes a dog that big with its mouth so close. at least, titan is a good boy. a good, trained boy.
the encounter probably would’ve stayed passing had eren not had his eyes flick up to the other man as he walked, then back down— then quickly, as his stomach drops and his heart lurches up, he doubletakes and turns his head into a 180. he . . . knows that guy. he knows that guy partially, from what his memories tell him, he knows his boot intimately. he knows the sensation of utmost respect and intimidation that ushers through him, and never had he thought he’d feel it in the flesh.
and so eren stands there, staring at the back of the man’s head as he walks away. perhaps it’s unexpected shock that keeps him planted enough on the sidewalk that people need to start side stepping him, but. after a tight swallow, a few blinks and listening to a racing heart, he takes to curiosity and turns back around, in levi’s direction. it wasn’t chasing after ghosts if the ghost suddenly had a body. he could leave it be, they could be completely different people in the end, but— but how, through his own nature, can he let the question hover aimlessly without an answer?
he doesn’t know 30% of what he’s doing right now, but hey, he rolls with the punches. he’s safely a couple of steps back, mostly to figure out what he was going to do, or even say if he got that far. ]
it’s iv but i do what i want
he’s on his leash, an air force collar with his name on it (USAF: TITAN), and a muzzle just in case. a good thing, people felt more secure and they all can avoid a freak accident with other dogs. or, like in november, turkeys. eren notices the tiny dog up ahead a little too late to cross the street, so he holds the leash tight and preps to call titan’s attention if he went for a passing sniff, having yet to look up from his phone and playlist.
if the owner (owner?) said anything, eren didn’t quite hear it amidst aggressive, melodic screaming, only making the world renknown tsst and giving the shepherd’s leash a jerk away from the other dog. not that titan would do anything, but. you know. not everyone likes a dog that big with its mouth so close. at least, titan is a good boy. a good, trained boy.
the encounter probably would’ve stayed passing had eren not had his eyes flick up to the other man as he walked, then back down— then quickly, as his stomach drops and his heart lurches up, he doubletakes and turns his head into a 180. he . . . knows that guy. he knows that guy partially, from what his memories tell him, he knows his boot intimately. he knows the sensation of utmost respect and intimidation that ushers through him, and never had he thought he’d feel it in the flesh.
and so eren stands there, staring at the back of the man’s head as he walks away. perhaps it’s unexpected shock that keeps him planted enough on the sidewalk that people need to start side stepping him, but. after a tight swallow, a few blinks and listening to a racing heart, he takes to curiosity and turns back around, in levi’s direction. it wasn’t chasing after ghosts if the ghost suddenly had a body. he could leave it be, they could be completely different people in the end, but— but how, through his own nature, can he let the question hover aimlessly without an answer?
he doesn’t know 30% of what he’s doing right now, but hey, he rolls with the punches. he’s safely a couple of steps back, mostly to figure out what he was going to do, or even say if he got that far. ]