Dinner in the mess hall was always lively, plates clinked, laughter echoed, and conversations overlapped until Sasha, mid-bite of bread, blurted out: “Okay, but can we all agree Armin is the prettiest crier?”

The table fell silent for a moment before Jean, sitting up straighter, pointed his fork like it was a gavel. “Finally, someone said it. Yes. Absolutely. No debate.”

“Who the hell notices that?!” Eren yelled, glaring at everyone as if they’d just betrayed him.

Jean rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Eren. Don’t act like you haven’t seen it. His face gets all flushed, his eyes get all sparkly—”

“Stop calling his eyes sparkly!” Eren interrupted, slamming his hand on the table.

“They do sparkle,” Bertolt mumbled softly, looking embarrassed but resolute. “It’s kind of… mesmerizing.”

Reiner clapped a massive hand on Bertolt’s shoulder. “See? Even Bert agrees. And he doesn’t say much, so you know it’s true.”

Sasha nodded enthusiastically, leaning forward as if presenting evidence. “And his nose gets all red, but it’s, like, the perfect amount of red. Not too much, just enough to make you want to hug him—”

“Okay, I’m stopping this right now,” Eren growled, his face steadily turning redder. “You’re all insane. He’s just crying. How is this even a topic of conversation?!”

Mikasa, sitting quietly up until now, finally sighed and spoke. “Because it’s true. He’s beautiful. I'd think twice about making him cry though.”

“It’s not something to agree or disagree on!” Eren snapped, visibly distressed. “It’s crying! You’re all weird for thinking about it like this.”

Connie nodded. “Yeah, no. Eren cries like he’s trying to scare off wildlife. Armin cries like he’s in a tragic love story.”

“THAT’S IT!” Eren shot to his feet, fists clenched, ready to swing at the first person who dared to say another word.

Before the argument could devolve into an actual fight, the cafeteria door creaked open, and Armin himself walked in, holding a tray of food. The entire table fell silent, everyone suddenly looking anywhere but at him.