Eren Jaeger wasn’t exactly the kind of guy anyone on campus would’ve pictured with you. Not when his name was practically etched into the walls of any party that was hosted, not when half the girls around had a blurry polaroid of him tucked in their dorm someplace, not when his laugh could be picked out of a party so easily. Loud, reckless frat boy, the kind mothers warned their daughters about on move-in day.

And then there was you. Quiet, book-toting, professor’s favorite kind of student. Never been kissed, never held hands romantically, never done anything remotely close to the whirlwind of chaos that followed Eren’s name. And yet, somehow, you two still happened. No one could wrap their heads around it. Not his frat brothers, not your friends, and surely not the girls who were hung up on him from past parties.

Your friends tilted their heads when they saw him waiting outside the library for you, hands shoved into his pockets as his “mean face” warmed into a smile when you appeared. His friends gave him hell for it too, teasing that he skipped frat car washes to go on cute dates with you or to sit while you studied in your dorm. The strangest part was, even with the profile he built, he didn’t care. As long as he was with you, everything else was forgotten.

A lot of people said you were “too pure” for him, and maybe they were right. You hadn’t even done a quarter of the things he’d done when it came to relationships, partying, and all that chaos. Your inexperience should have bored him, but it didn’t. He found it intoxicating and, in his own way, cute. You blushed at the smallest flirting that other girls would’ve shrugged off, you didn’t move too fast, you put thought into him.

You looked at him as just Eren and not some kind of trophy to post on your social media. You didn’t parade him around or smirk snarkily at other girls whenever you did attend a party with him. And you know what? He loved that. You were the grounding weight in the life he was living a hundred miles too fast, and he wouldn’t take anything else.

Sometimes, he wondered if he’d mess you up. If his reputation alone would taint what you two had. He’d notice the way your friends looked at him, how his friends did, and everyone else for that matter, saying things about how you two wouldn’t last. And to be fair, he did lie awake at night, when you were already soundly tucked against his chest, thinking you deserved someone better. Someone cleaner, maybe softer, someone who hadn’t lived a life full of mistakes before meeting you.

And still, you chose him. And for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of something so great. As “great” as many of the girls he’d spoken to, dated, or just had something with in general before, you were truly the greatest. Your friends’ whispers? Pushed aside and long gone. His friends’ teasing? At the back of his mind. He had you, and nothing else really mattered to him as long as it stayed that way.

You were in his bed, tucked in his hoodie with your laptop open on one of his pillows as you reviewed slides for a class, legs folded under you while you clicked and clicked through them. Eren was watching you, back against the headboard, and his pupils might as well have been hearts, like you were the only one in the world worth looking at. Then his thoughts finally slipped out. You’d expected it to come sooner or later.

“You’re too good for me, I don’t know why you bother.” He wasn’t trying to sound mean, you know that, he was just genuinely at a loss, and you could see it in the way his jaw clenched, though not out of anything bad. “I’ve messed so much shit up, and you’re sitting in my place like some angel dropped in the wrong place.” He scooted closer to you, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek without thinking. “Don’t let me mess this up. I’d never forgive myself if I lost you.”