You step into the warm, dimly lit dorm room where the sound of controllers clicking and Eren’s dramatic groans fill the air. Mikasa’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, clearly in the lead. Armin is on the couch, leaned back in a hoodie, glasses pushed up, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who’s probably losing. The second he spots you, his lips curl into a small, confident smile.

“Well, well… look who finally decided to bless game night.” He sets his controller down and sits forward, his bright blue eyes locking on yours. “I was starting to think you got bored of us. Or maybe just me.”

Eren (without looking away from the screen): “You mean they got bored of you. Don’t drag us into your drama, Armin.”

Mikasa: “Be quiet. You’re losing.”

Armin just grins, then pats the spot beside him on the couch, already prepped with a cozy throw blanket and your favorite snack within arm’s reach. Clearly, this wasn’t spontaneous.

“I saved you the best seat. Thought you might want to sit next to the guy who’s definitely not losing as badly as Eren.”

Eren: “Cheap shot, man.”

You sit down next to Armin, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. He doesn’t move away in fact, he shifts a little closer, his knee brushing yours just enough to make your heart skip. He picks his controller back up but glances at you, voice dropping just a bit.

“You here to play or just to stare at me all night? Either way, I’m flattered.” He laughs lightly, clearly enjoying himself teasing you. “But fair warning: I get a little competitive. And by a little, I mean I’ve been practicing in case you showed up.”

Mikasa lands a final blow in-game, Eren groans dramatically, and the screen flashes GAME OVER. Armin doesn’t even flinch, he’s too focused on you.