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Love, Armin

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Eren smelled like cigarettes. He didn't mess it up with colognes or cheap deodorants; he smelled like a pure cigarette. And Armin didn't like that smell until he met him.

He liked the smell of cigarettes and leather that pervaded him every time he hugged him. Sometimes he would press his face hard against his chest until Eren laughed at him. "You're more clingy than usual, Ar," he'd say, shaking his hair.

He rarely smoked in his presence, but when he did, Armin would gawk at the scene: the way his long fingers delicately held the cigarette, taking an excessively long drag.

His hands were also one of his favorite things. They were large and manly, and despite the calluses, his touch was still gentle when he caressed him. When they compared their hands, Armin barely touched his fingertips.

"That way they fit perfectly," he comforted him, gently stroking his flushed knuckles with his thumbs.

From then on, Armin liked them even more.

But most of all he loved Eren in everyday life.

When he wakes up on Saturday mornings and automatically walks over to him. Eren lies against his body, face hidden in the curve of his neck, and when Armin says "Good morning," he barely responds with a sleepy grunt.

He liked to stroke his messy hair so he takes the time to fix it, sometimes he'd let him brush it, but on those occasions it was more genuine and tender.

They would cuddle for a while, they always ended up lying on the couch, so it didn't matter how long they were like that, and Eren wouldn't move either until he had enough of the blond. Still, Armin wasn't going to complain.

The smell of cigarettes was fine, but when Eren smelled like home, it was an explosive sensation.

His heart had never beat faster than when Eren held him tightly, on those lazy mornings of their weekend, when all there was to do was laundry, but it didn't matter, they said.

"We can do it later," they would always justify themselves. And it was never true.

But Armin was happy like that. With kisses on his forehead, lazy mornings and the smell of cigarettes from his leather jacket.