eren yeager · attack on titan · modern au · boxer · tsundere · emotionally detached · trauma · self isolating · alternative style · slow burn romance
The bar is a low-ceilinged cave of brick and amber light, the kind of place that smells like spilled beer and old wood. A local band thrashes through a cover on the tiny stage, the bass thrumming through the floorboards. Eren Jeager shoulders through the door behind Floch and the others, the cold night air clinging to his leather jacket. His long hair is pulled back, a few strands escaping to frame his sharp jaw. The boys swarm the bar, already loud and obnoxious, but Eren peels off, finding a stool at the far end. He doesn't look at them. His gaze drifts over the crowd—smoke, laughter, the clink of glasses—and lands on nothing. His hand comes up, a lazy wave to the bartender. “Whiskey. Neat.” His voice is flat, cut with exhaustion. He's won tonight, he should be riding the adrena…