The tension in the room could cut glass.

Armin held his breath, waiting for either child's parent to respond. Little Maddock Kirstein sat none the wiser, coloring his little pumpkin and humming the theme song to some PBS kids show that was on even when Armin was a child. It was amazing, Armin thought, how unphased the five year old was by his parents bickering.

No, bickering was too soft a word. As they stood, Hitch looked ready to assault her ex-boyfriend with her exceedingly heavy purse at any moment. Jean didn't flinch. His glare met hers with full force.

"Now," Armin finally cut in, taking a deep breath. "Maddock really is doing excellent. His development over the past few months has been wonderfully above average! He reads well, he plays well with others...it's just, well," He paused a moment, shuffling in his seat. "I was a bit concerned when I saw what he'd done for our last arts and crafts activity."

"I'm your friend, Armin, you don't have to be vague." Jean sighed, turning his attention away from his fuming ex. "What happened? Just so you know, he's been with his mom the past couple of days-"

"Oh REAL mature, Jean. Shifting the blame already? We're supposed to be co-parenting, you a-"

"Anyway," Armin interrupted, trying his best to hide his own growing agitation. Friend or not, he felt a growing need to slap both parents upside the head. "The art teacher came to visit, and their assignment was to draw and color their parents names in bubble letters, and…"

He looked at Jean, then to Hitch, then to a brightly colored motivational poster across the room. "Keep Hanging On!" It read, taunting him with its bold letters. I know, Armin thought. It's for the kids. You put up with the adults for the sake of the kids.

"Well, I guess all I can say is to watch your mouths around the little ones. Maybe use 'Jean' and 'Hitch' when referring to each other instead of," He lowered his voice. "'Horse Faced Bastard' and 'Crazy Shrill Bitch.'"

Stunned silence. That's all Armin could read as their faces drained of color. He stared at them both, waiting for a response.

"Ah-"

"Maddock," Armin called to him, smiling as the little boy enthusiastically jumped up. "Can you do me a favor? Let's play a game." He motioned for him to come closer, and sat him on his lap. "Alright, smart boy, is there someone in this room named 'Armin'?"

With a bright smile, the five year old nodded his head.

"That's your name, Mr. Arlert!" He snickered, leaning against his teacher.

"Very good! Do you know someone named 'Lilliana'?"

He nodded vigorously. "My baby sissy!"

"Uh-huh." Armin slipped him an m&m for his efforts. "Now...who do you know with the names 'Jean' and 'Hitch'?"

"Uhm…" The little boy bit his lip.

"Come on, sweetie." Hitch crouched down, grabbing his hands. She looked so hopeful yet anxious, as Maddock fidgeted with an eraser.

Armin, however, simply waited for the inevitable. The color once again drained from the parent's faces when Maddock shook his head.

"Mr. Arlert, who are Jean and Hitch?"

"...You're kidding." Jean furrowed his brow, kneeling down beside his ex in front of their son. "Jean and Hitch! Mommy and Daddy!"

Maddock simply continued to laugh. It was more than apparent to Armin that, given his age and experience, the five year old boy couldn't even begin to comprehend why his parents struggled, begged him to answer correctly.

Armin was already checking out. With a sigh, he grabbed the half-empty mug of coffee that sat cooling on his desk. Lukewarm. His fourth cup of the day was a particularly bitter one. Two months into his first year of teaching, and he was beginning to understand why his own teachers seemed to age so quickly. He rubbed his temple, and gazed up at the clock. 4:15 PM; a long 45 minutes after his students were let out, yet two of them still sat in the room. One was little Maddock, who still seemed blissfully unaware of the problem at hand. The other child in the room was smaller, and lost in her own little world.

Abigail was undeniably the shortest of her class. Her hair was a fair, platinum blonde that made her blue eyes shine just as bright. If there was one thing Armin could say about her, other than how obviously adorable she was, it was that she could certainly be...imaginative. She was a girl that was more than capable of talking your ear off, whether you wanted her to or not.

"What's happening in Abby's world today?" He often asked her during freetime.

"Revolution! Grandpa said it's time for the people to take down the oppressive established order!"

"...Alright!" Imaginative indeed.

He watched as she colored, swinging her feet under the table as they just barely hit the floor. The pink crayon in her hands was down to a nub, and Armin could only imagine how upset she would be if she ran out of her favorite color. After all, hardly a day went by where she didn't walk in immaculately dressed in pink skirts and dresses. A ballerina-in-training no less, according to her pre-school teachers.

In other words, a spoiled-sweet little princess.

Okay, he thought. Considering what she's staying behind for, sweet is a slight stretch.

Armin took a deep breath.

"Okay, listen. Jean, Hitch, I have another parent coming in and I would really like to go home before 5 o'clock." He hoisted Maddock off his lap, and forced a grin onto his face. As if his friends actually deserved it. "He isn't in trouble, but I'll yell at you two all I want. Just be careful of what you say around your kids."

"Yeah, yeah, but-"

"Jean." Armin's glare was powerful. In an instant, the other man gave up.

"Alright. We'll give him a stern lecture at home." Hitch grabbed her son's hand. "And by 'him' I mean Jean." With an audible huff, she nodded toward Armin and waved goodbye. Jean followed closely, sulking as if he'd just gotten an earful from his mother.

Serves you right, Armin thought. There were times where he realized that, despite how much he'd changed and grown, Jean was still the same golden hearted jackass he was in college. The same pain in the ass as well.

"Finally." He exhaled, slumping back in his desk chair. The room grew significantly more quiet when he and Abigail were the only two there. Armin could hear her humming softly. That aside, it was a welcome silence.

He was alerted by the buzz of his phone. Armin tapped the screen, reading one new message.

Eren:

In the distance, the cries of two small children can be heard. "Uncle Armin! Where are you?! We're starving!"

With a chuckle, he rolled his eyes and responded with a simple middle finger. He was exhausted, and more than ready to crash. Yet the home he shared with his married best friends still had two small children in it that he knew would want to play.

No. He was putting his foot down. Nothing on god's green Earth could keep his head from hitting the couch pillows before the clock struck-

"Please tell me I have the right room this time."

She stood in the doorway, taking heavy breaths. Such a small woman. Disheveled, tired, and just barely catching her five year old daughter in her arms.

Loosely pulled back blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and regal roman nose; no matter how unkempt she could get, Armin thought she was more stunning every short glimpse of her he'd gotten.

"This is…"

"Yeah. Exactly what you think it looks like."

"Well, that's just fantastic."

Fingers rubbed in small circles on her temple. Annie stared blankly down, marvelling at her daughter's...artwork. To give credit where it was due, Abigail's use of color was certainly impressive. Unfortunately, so was her anatomy for someone at that age. Even better was her realistic portrayal of a historic massacre in the other drawing.

Annie felt heat rise on her cheeks. Despite her efforts, nothing could mask the sting of shame. Embarrassment; not of her daughter, but for herself.

"Uh, listen, Annie, it really isn't," The teacher began, but Annie cut him off with a hand. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I need a moment to stew, blondie." She murmured, letting her face fall into her hands. Annie gazed down at her ketchup stained pants. Loose hair fell into her tired, makeup smudged eyes, and suddenly she became incredibly aware of her distinct Diner smell.

"Mommyyyy, do you need a nap?"

Oh, she had no idea. Annie's 60 hour work week began to catch up with her as a massive migraine threatened to pound her head.

"Damnit, dad." She mumbled, before lifting her head. Her chin leaned against her palm. It shouldn't have surprised her, she knew, as her father rarely listened to her requests. After all, he had already raised a daughter once. Clearly he knew what he was doing, where as Annie clearly would be lost without him.

"Don't let her watch Game of Thrones with you, dad."

"She's 5 years old, dad."

"No 5 year old is even going to understand a porny fantasy War of the Roses au, dad."

Her distant cries went unheard.

Annie let out a sigh. If I have to save up to hire an actual babysitter on top of everything, I swear...

"...Heh."

Her head sprung up. The teacher sat across from her, covering his mouth with his hands as another chuckle escaped his lips. The corners of her own lips seemed to only drop further.

"You're laughing at me."

He came back to attention, cheeks tingling pink. Annie squinted her eyes.

"...Ohh my god, you're laughing at me."

"No, no!" He protested, putting up his hands. "I'm not! Not at you, it's just...I noticed she used pink for blood. She loves that color so much it must run through her veins. It's kind of impressive, really."

Annie's expression fell flat.

"It still feels like you're making fun of me."

"I'm really not!" He snickered, leaning forward. Armin met her gaze, and she once again felt the heat rise on her cheeks. Still feeling the sting of humiliation, Annie turned her eyes down. She could see the black smudge of eyeliner on her hand. "She's brilliant, actually. I didn't call you down here to imply you were a bad parent, Annie." She peeked up to see the grin on his face. "Abby always comes in smiling, clean, healthy. She does well in art and music. Loves to read, though her handwriting is a bit sloppy. She's progressing just fine."

Annie cocked her brow. Finally, she gazed up again. Despite her suspicions, Armin looked sincere. He wore kind eyes to match his grin- though Annie saw bags underneath that matched her own. Something else caught her eye, as well. Behind him on a corkboard, pinned front and center, was a (far more innocent) drawing with her daughters familiar style and writing.

Not that she could read Abigail's writing, of course. Even still, Annie felt a little smile pull at her lips.

"It's pretty much required of me to check up on the home situation if a kid does something...strange, but," He looked to Abby, who was cuddling close to Annie. "I know an unhealthy living situation when I see one. Yours is not. All I really wanted to do was recommend investing in child blocking programs on your home TV." As he chuckled, a smile once again ghosted across Annie's lips. You could have cut to the chase rather than rambled, blondie.

He went on. "I've known you for a few months now, Annie. You're a hard worker. It's amazing, really. You're amazing. Be proud of yourself."

"...Thanks. I can see the brown on your nose, but thanks."

"The what on my nose?!" Armin urgently grabbed his phone, checking his reflection in the black screen. "Oh- oh, you're implying I'm-"

"Did you...think I was being literal, blondie?" She found herself stifling a snicker, amazed at the rising pink of Armin's cheeks. With a bashful downward gaze, he place his phone back on the desk. An odd sense of satisfaction washed over her for the briefest moment; consider us even for you psyching me out with this meeting.

"Have mercy on me, I beg of you. It's been a long day."

"You are absolutely forgiven."

The warm smile returned to his face.

"I mean...I could really make it up to you by buying you a cup of coffee."

A/N:

I am so damn sorry this took so long. Along with all my other WIPs. I'm a college senior currently stuck in senior thesis hell. SERIOUSLY, it's consumed my life and actually getting time to write for myself is a goddamn miracle. That aside, I sincerely hope you enjoy! Sorry it's a bit short. Comments appreciated!