ā Ėļ½”āąØā”ą§ā Ėļ½”ā hey there delilah reader ft jock! reiner
the hallway was loud in the way you expected for the first day of school. that specific, electric kind of loud where everyone was happy to see each other and wasnāt yet tired of pretending. you pressed closer to the wall of lockers, letting the current of people move around you rather than through you. your bag straps were twisted on your fingers.
you were looking for room 707
and you were definetly not looking at the group of athletes taking up the entire width of the hall near the staircase.
they were hard to miss, honestly. you didnāt mean to look, there were four of them, maybe five? all broad shoulders, and easy laughter, the kind of guys that seemed too confident despise smelling like 5 pounds of cologne. the kind that made the hallway feel smaller by just being in it.
you adjusted your bag and looked back down at your schedule.
707. second floor, east wing. you just had to get past the staircase.
āokayā you said silently under your breath
you kept your head down and moved toward the stairs, timing it the way you always did, waiting for a break in the crowd, finding the gap, slipping through-
and then someone step back.
not intentionally, even though you already thought you were getting targeted on the first day. they didnāt even noticed you. they appeared to just shift their weight and stepped back, right into your path, and your shoulder caught the edge of his arm and your schedule went fluttering out of your hand, drifting down to land face-up on the floor between a dozen pairs of shoes.
you froze for half a second. then quickly crouched to get it.
at the exact moment someone else did.
you nearly knocked foreheads with him. you both pulled back just barely in time. and then you were looking up, and he was looking up, and there was maybe six inches of space between your faces.
he was one of them, of course he was. close up he was. you registered the details of his face. the very light brown hairs appeared at the top of his lip. the arch of his eyebrows, and his pale skinā¦ you immediately tried to stop registering. but there you go again, getting distracted by the blonde of his hair, gold dark eyes, were they hazel? yes, definitelyāa very pretty hazel. and the kind of jaw that belonged on a sports poster. he was holding your schedule.
āsorryā, you said immediately, the word coming out a little breathless. āthat was ā i wasnāt watching whereāā
āNo, that was me.ā his voice was easy. like he wasnāt handing crouched in the middle of the a crowded hallway, handing a stranger their dropped paper. he glanced down at the schedule briefly, before handing it back to you. āBraun. i stepped back without looking.ā
you took it from him, fingers careful not to touch his. āitās okay. really.ā
while you both just stood there you noticed how tall he was. yup, really tall, you confirmed. that made you want to take a tiny step backwards.
āyouāre looking for 707?ā he asked
you blinked ā i ā yes.ā
āeast wing, past the library. iām heading that direction.ā he said it with ease, already shifting his weight like he was about to move. he half glanced back at the group heād been standing with, āBertholdt, iāll catch up.ā
a very tall, dark haired boy somewhere behind him raised a hand without looking up from his phone āyeah, yeahā
and just like that the boy ābraunā fell into step beside you.
āiām reinerā he added, after a half beat.
āi know,ā you said, and then wanted hide behind your schedule because why did you say that. āi mean, ā you said braun. reiner braun.ā yup, you were making it worse. you stared forward. āiām āā and you told him your name, quietly, the way you said most things.
he repeated it back to you.
and something about that made your chest feel odd.
you walked. the hallway thinned as you rounded the corner toward the library, and it got quieter, and you became abruptly aware that youād somehow ended up walking with reiner braun. THE reiner braun, varsity football, junior class, name always on the announcements, and you had absolutely nothing to say to him.
āfirst period free?ā he asked
āstudy hall,ā you said. āyou?ā
āsame.ā he glanced over at you, and you felt it even though you were looking at the floor. ā707 is study hall. thatās where iām headed tooā
ohā¦
āoh,ā you said aloud, very intelligently.
the faintest thing crossed his face when you said it. like youād said something funny and he wasnāt going to make you feel embarrassed about it.
you reached the door to 707. he got there half a step ahead of you and pulled it open, holding it, and you ducked through with a murmured āthank youā that probably didnāt reach his ears.
the room barely had any people. you took a seat near the window, second from the back, next to the radiator. you sat your bag down and got out your planner and tried to look like someone who was very focused on their planner.
you felt reiner take the seat directly beside you.
you kept your head down.
after a moment, you heard the soft knock of something being set on your desk. you looked up.
it was a pencil. one of those cheap yellow ones the office handed out in bulk. it was pointed towards you.
āyou were clicking the cap on your pen,ā he said, without looking up from his own bag. āseemed like maybe it was out of ink.ā
you looked down at your hand, you were clicking the cap. and yes, now that you pressed the tip of the margin if your planner.. nothing.
you stared at the dead pen, then at the pencil.
then, picked it up.
āthank youā you said. and this time it did reach him, because he heard it, and nodded once. then went back to whatever he was doing.
you looked out at the window at the pale September morning and thought of what had happened.
youād met someone, or someone had met you. walked you somewhere. sat beside you. noticed the small thing and offered the small solution without any fuss.
it was nothing. probably.
people were kind sometimes. it didnāt mean anything.
you turned to a fresh page in your planner and started writing out the week. outside, the first bell of the year rang along and clear.
you didnāt noticed reiner glance over at you once, while you were writing. ļæ¼
very quietly, maybe he was trying to figure something out. maybe someone.
then, each day of the week starts getting interesting.
š£²ā monday: he fell into step beside you between second and third period. youād been moving against the current of the hallway, clutching your textbook to your chest, when you heard your name. said the same way he always said it, a very unique way. and there he was, slightly out of breath, you could tell he moved quickly to catch up.
āyou walk fast for someone smallā he said
you were not trying to be another stunna girl so you just rolled your eyes.
he looked down at you, you looked up at him. the height difference was a little ridiculous.
you looked away first āi just donāt like being lateā
āme neither.ā he matched your pace exactly. āwhere are you headed?ā
you told him. he nodded as if it was reasonable information. and then he walked you there āall the way to the doorā before peeling off with a easy āsāyaā that he said to the air in front of him, not really to you, but it did sounded so sincere.
you stood at the classroom door for a second after he left.
then you went inside and sat down and spent first four minutes of class not entirely absorbing what the teacher was saying.
š£²ā Wednesday: he saved you a seat.
you hadnāt asked him too. you hadnāt even ā there was no arrangement. you walked into study hall and there he was, already in his chair, and the seat next to him had his hoodie draped over the back deliberately, and when he saw you come in he reached over and pulled the hoodie off the chair without a word.
you sat down.
āthereās a quiz in ms.yeagerās class today,ā he said, by way of greeting.
āi know,ā you said āi studiedā
āwhat chapters?ā
ātwelve through fifteenā
he exhaled through his nose. opened his textbook. āi only did thirteen and fourteenā
you hesitated. then you slid your notes across the desk toward him with no comment.
he looked at the notes. then at you. something shifted in his expression. was he flustered? āyou donāt have to āā
āyou have twenty minutesā you said, looking back at your planner. āyou should use them.ā
āā¦yeahā he said āokay.ā
you pretended to organize your highlighters while he read through your notes. but once, just once, you glanced sideways at him. at the way he was concentrating. at the way he mouthed words to himself when he was trying to remember something, barely moving his lips.
š£²ā friday: he was leaning against the locker next to yours when you arrived in the morning.
not exactly your locker, but the one beside yours. which you told yourself, it was a coincidence. lots of people had lockers on the hallways.
he was talking to bertholdt, who was a foot taller than everyone and seemed deeply bothered by this fact, and annie, a quiet blonde girl who youād had art class with sophomore year, who could silence a room by simply raising an eyebrow. youād always found her impressive in a slightly terrifying way.
you approached your locker and started working the combination.
āheyā reiner straighten up. bluetooth and annie both looked over with the particular expression of people watching something theyāve always formed opinions about.
āhiā you said
āgood morningā he added.
āā¦good morningā you agreed.
annie looked at bertholdt. bertholdt looked at the ceiling.
you got your locker open and traded your books out, acutely aware that reiner had turned to lean his back against the locker now, facing the hallway, arms crossed. trying to look casual about the fact that he was talking to you.
āyou doing anything this weekend?ā he asked the general hallway.
āstudyingā you said, to your locker.
āright.ā a beat āsaturday or sunday?ā
āboth, probablyā
ābothā he repeated. ā do you ever ā not study?ā
you considered this genuinky āsometimes i readā
āfor fun?ā
āis that surprising?ā
ānoā he said immediately. āno, thatās ā that makes sense, actuallyā
you glanced at him, then, just briefly. he was looking straight ahead of the hallway, jaw slightly set, and there was a faint color along the back of his neck that you clocked without knowing what to do with.
you closed your locker.
āiāll see you in study hallā you said.
āyeah.ā he pushed off the locker. āyeah, see youā
you started down the hall. behind you, distinctly, you heard bertholdt say very quietly. ā āyouāre so bad at thisā ā and reiner say, just as quietly but with significantly more tension, ābertholdt i swear to god āā
you bit the inside of you cheek not letting yourself smile unitl youād rounded the corner.
āāāāāāāāāāāāā
it was Thursday in October when he asked.
the tress had gone amber and gold and the air outside the windows had the particular bite to it that made the warmth of the school hallways feel like something to be grateful for. you were at your locker, he was at the locker beside yours, ā as had become the unexplained morning ritual. ā and you were looking for your chemistry worksheet when he said, trying to sound casual:
āwe have a game tomorrow nightā
āmm,ā you said, into your locker.
āfootball. varsityā he swallowed āhome gameā
āokayā you said. you found the worksheet. you were about to close your locker when something made you stop, turn slightly. āare you ā were you telling me, orā¦ā
he was looking at you. his arms were crossed. there was something in his face you hadnāt quite seen before. you could tell he was holding something in carefully.
āi wanted you to comeā he said straight out.
the hallway kept moving around you. somewhere a locker slammed.
āto your gameā you said
āyeahā
āto watch āā you, you didnāt say it. āfootballā
āyou donāt have to,ā he said, his voice shifted very slightly, preparing for the landing. ā i just ā i thought ā if you werenāt busy āā
āiāll comeā you said
he stopped.
ā i mean āā you looked back at your locker, straightening the books that didnāt need straightening. āi donāt have plans. and ive actually never watched a game before. i think it would be interesting. the game. to watchā
you were rambling. you closed your locker before you could continue.
when you looked back at him. reiner was doing something youād never seen him do before.
he was smiling. kindly, the real kind. it lasted only a few seconds before he got it mostly back under control, got his expression into something more composed, he cleared his throat.
ācool,ā he said ā thatās ā yeah. goodā
āwhat time?ā you asked
āseven. fieldās around the back.ā he picked his bag āiāll ā¦ thereāll be a spot saved on the bleachers. with annie and bert.ā
āokayā you said
āokayā he said.
you both stood there for one unnecessary extra second
then you both went to class.
you told yourself it wasnāt a big deal. you told yourself this while you changed your top twice on friday evening and then felt annoyed at yourself for changing it and then changing it a third time anyway. it was cold out, so you wore the soft oversized cream colored one with long sleeves, and a scarf, and you told yourself this was simply what a person wore to an outdoor event in october and it had nothing to do with anything else, nor anyone.
the field was lit up bright white when you arrived, blazing against the darkening sky. the bleachers were already filling. music thumped from the speaker system and a group of freshmen were doing something with a banner and getting it mostly wrong and the whole scene had an energy to it you werenāt expecting. warm and alive, and just loud enough to make your pulse pick up a little.
annie found you before you found her. she appeared at your elbow without warning, as she always did.
āyou cameā she said. she didnāt make it a big deal, something you appreciated about her.
āhe invited meā you said. just enough information.
annie looked at you for a moment. āyes,ā she said āhe didā
something in her tone made you want to ask a follow up question. you decided not to.
bertholdt was easy to find, obviously not because he was was the tallest thing aside from the stadium lightā¦
the three of you settled into the bleachers with ease. the cold air and the bright lights and the noise wrapped around you as something almost comfortable.
āwhich one is āā you started
ānumber twelveā bertholdt said, without looking up from his phone.
you looked at the field. found number twelve in the warmups.
reiner moved differently out there. youād known he was an athlete, you had eyes, youād seen the way he carried himself, but this was different. out in the field he was focused, head up, something concentrated and purposeful in every movement. he was doing a passing drill with two other players and even from the bleachers you could see the intensity of his jaw and eyes. the deliberateness of it.
then, for no reason you could account for, he looked up at the bleachers.
found you in about three seconds.
you hadnāt expected that. so you just lifted your hand, a small wave, nothing dramatic.
his whole face changed.
that smile again. then he looked back at his teammates and you looked back at your hands in your lap, and annie, in your peripheral vision, looked very focused on the field, as if trying to not react to something else.
the game started.
you didnāt fully know the rules. youād said as much to bertholdt, who had apparently accepted the role of the quiet commentator with the resigned cheerfulness of someone who whoād explained sports to people before. he murmured things. to you in a low voice. āthey need to keep possessionā and āwhatās a first down, see the marker movingā and you nodded and tried to follow.
but mostly you watched number twelve.
reiner played the way he did everything, you were starting to think, with his whole self. nothing held back. he ran routes with his head up, made calls you could hear the edge of even from the stands, hit tackles with commitment. but what caught you, what you kept coming back to, was the way he picked up his teammates when they were slow, the hand on the shoulder, the few words, the way he was for them even in the middle of everything.
girllll are youuuu in loveeeee?
loyal, you thought, it was the right word.
your team won. the field erupted. you were clapping before youād consciously decided to, swept up in the wave of sound around you.
you found reiner in the mass of players near the sideline. he had his helmet off, hair damp and messed, cheeks flushed red from the cold and the exertion, and he was scanning the bleachers, you saw him do it. until he found the three of you.
he jogged over. out of breath, grinning.
āyou came,ā he said. to you. just you.
āi said i wouldā you pointed out.
he laughed, slightly breathless slightly disbelieving, and pushed a hand through his damp hair, and you thought oh.
what was that āohā about?
āāāāāāāāāāā
bertholdt had somewhere to be and annie had somewhere she claimed to be going but that probably, youād privately theorized, was simply home doomscrolling, which was something you respected. so it was the two of you, standing in the cooling dark outside the school while the rest of the crowd filtered away, and heād turned to you with that slightly-trying-too-hard energy he sometimes got.
āthereās a diner. about ten minutes from here. they do
milkshakes.ā
āokayā you said.
āyou want to ā i mean. if youāre not tired.ā he adjusted the strap of his bag. āor hungry. if youāre hungry. they do food too. not just milkshakesā
āmilkshakes sound goodā you said
he nodded. quickly. āyeah. okay. good.ā
the diner looked like it has been there forever. red vinyl booths, a counter with spinning stools, a jukebox in the corner that someoneās grandfather had probably played as a kid. it smelled like coffee and fried things and warm sugar. the light was low and amber and kind, the way diner light always was at night, and the windows were fogged slightly at the edges from the cold outside pressing against the warm in.
you and reiner slid into a corner booth. the waitress set down the paper menus and asked what she could get you to drink.
āmilkshakesā reiner said, not even opening the menu.
āwhat flavor?ā
āchocolateā he said āunlessā¦ā
āchocolate is goodā you added.
he smiled. flagged the waitress back.
the booth was small the way diner booths were small and reiner was not a small person, which meant there was less space between you, than there would have been with someone else, and you were very aware of the proximity of him, and the fact that you could hear him breathe.
you looked at the menu you werenāt reading.
āyouāve been coming here since freshman year?ā you asked
āsince i started playingā he leaned back against the booth, arms loose, looking at you. heād relaxed out of the post game energy now into something easier, something that felt like the most him that youād seen.
you gave an understanding nod with a low hum.
the milkshakes arrived. they were tall and cold and came with extra whipped cream that neither of you asked for, and the jukebox in the corner shifted, and something gentle started playing.
āhey there delilah, whatās it like in New York Cityā¦ā
reiner looked over the jukebox. you watched his profile, the clean line of his jaw, the way the light caught the edge of his cheekbone.
āiām a thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you doā¦ā
āi like this songā you said, mostly to say something.
āme tooā he looked back at you, and then didnāt look away.
the diner murmured around you. a couple at the counter, a family in the big booth by the window, the quiet clink of silverware and the low music and the warm smell of coffee. and reiner watching you with an expression that you could only classify as one reserved for you. so soft for such a guy.
ācan i tell you something?ā he said
your fingers found the base of your milkshake glass. āokayā
āiām not āā he stopped. exhaled. tried again. āiām not usually like thisā
ālike what?ā
āthisā he gestured, vaguely, at himself, at the booth, at the general situation. āi donāt follow people to their lockers, i donāt walk anyone to their classesā his voice was steady but there was something behind it working really hard. āi donāt ask people to games and then spend the entire second quarter checking the stands.ā
your heart had gone very still. he looked so vulnerable. so desperate to let you know how serious he was about what he was saying.
āyou were playingā you said softly āyou shouldt have been checking the standsā
āi knowā he said simply without embarrassment āi couldnāt help it.ā
the jukebox played on.
ātime square canāt shine as bright as you, i swear itās true..ā
āiāve been trying to figure out how to say this.ā reiner said, āwithout making it weird or ā making you feel like you have to āā he pushed the milkshake glass have an inch to the left for no reason, then back. āi like youā an exhale left him, the past desperation easing. ā i have since you picked up your schedule off the floor and apologized to me for something that was my fault.ā he swallowed, āyou apologized to meā
you brain played back those moments, how he crouched across from you, holding out your paper.
āand then study hallā he went on, quieter. āyou said thank you for a pencil like iād done somethingā he looked at you ānobody says thank you like you doā
āhey there delilah, donāt you worry about the distanceā¦ā
you didnāt say anything for a moment. the diner was warm and amber and the music was exactly as gentle as it needed to be, and reiner was watching you like he was ready to give you his soul.
āi noticed you too,ā you said, and your voice came out smaller than usual, soft enough that he had to lean in slightly to catch it. āi always noticed, i didnāt think someone like you would āā
āsomeone like meā he repeated.
āyou know what i meanā
āi really donātā he said it gently, genuinely. āwhat does someone like me mean?ā
you looked at him, the steady way he held your gaze, the way heād been steady all along, in every small thing, without asking for anything back.
ānothingā you said. āi think i was just looking for a reason it couldnāt be realā
ābut itās realā¦ itās realā
the song was winding toward its end.
āOh, itās what you do to meā¦ā
āokay,ā you said
his brow shifted āokay?ā
āi like you too, reinerā you smiled was warmer than the diner lights.
he went very still for exactly one second.
reiner looked down at the table with a smile he was clearly trying to keep at a reasonable size and failing completely.
āokayā he saidā¦ to the table?
he looked so jolly, just there smiling at himself and table.
you laughed with ease and brightness and a little startled. he looked up at the sound of it and stopped trying to hide his smile.
he reached across the table slowly giving you every chance to move away and set his hand down to yours.
you turned your hand over.
he closed the distance.
outside the fogged windows, october did what october does, cool and dark and quietly beautiful. it couldnāt be better.
you sat there with your milkshakes and your intertwined fingers and the whole long easy year stretching out ahead of you. āĖā¹ā”
āāāāąØą§āāāā
a/n: this fanfic was vaguely inspired by taylor swifts song āso high schoolā muahaha. anyways, it took me 3 bomboclat days to fucking finish ts pls hug me
