Eremika Stories

Our Secret

"I told you I was gonna make you dinner, didn't I?" he responds, pulling her into the circle of his arms and kissing the top of her head.

"Yeah, but dinner doesn't typically entail... this," Mikasa motions, breaking away from Eren and setting her coat and purse on the ground.

He just smiles back at her and says something about checking on the pasta, and then he's back in the kitchen, leaving her alone. She hasn't spent any extended amount of time in

Eren's home, so she isn't quite sure what to do. She settles on reclining on the couch and watching him cook. He's pretty tall, at least five or six inches taller than her, with a long and lean body. His dark hair is kept short, and he wears jeans and a white button up. He looks really fuckable, if Mikasa's being honest.

~

Fifteen minutes later and their food is ready. Eren sets the plates out like a gourmet chef, obviously proud of his work.

"So what are we eating?" Mikasa asks.

"Fettuccine Alfredo, with fresh baked bread," he replies, a smug grin on his lips.

"You had time to bake bread?"

"Okay, so maybe the bread came from the grocery store."

He's smiling this goofy little grin that has Mikasa's heart turning upside down, so instead of kissing him like she desperately wants to, she tries her pasta. It's good.

Really good, actually. Before she knows it, her plate is clear and she's full. "You want some cake now?" Eren asks.

Mikasa shakes her head. "I'm stuffed," she says, pushing her plate away.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Uh, sure! Which one?"

"Well, I just got Pacific Rim on DVD, and if I'm correct, that's your favorite movie?"

"Ding ding," she quirks, moving to kiss his cheek and clear the plates. He almost stops her, pulling the but it's your birthday! card, but she reminds him that she isn't 18 until tomorrow. After she has the table cleaned, they wind up pressed together on the couch,

Mikasa with her head in Eren's lap, his fingers combing through her hair. About halfway through, he gets up to grab two cupcakes from the pantry.
He hands one to her with a grin.

"Happy early birthday, Mikasa," he whispers. The sincerity of his words has her blushing and fiddling with her scarf.

"Thank you, Mr. Jaeger." It's her favorite way to tease him, and she only does it because it doesn't matter at all to her that he's her teacher.

It bothers him, though, and she can see shame color his features. She grabs his face with both of her hands and kisses him hotly, her tongue flicking against his closed lips.

"I'm sorry... I really should stop saying that, yeah?"

"No, it's, uh, it's fine. Let's finish the movie," he replies, trying to distance himself from her on the couch. But Mikasa only cuddles closer to him, practically sitting in his lap.