Hey guys! Just a heads up from me - as you probably expected the content in this chapter is R18, so read at your own risk. There is sexual content so if you aren't comfortable with that, refrain from reading.
It's not a lot and it isn't very detailed, though. I have class.
~ Touka <3
EDIT: SHIT I should have specified, but only SOME of the content is sexual. Not the whole chapter lmao. Oop. Really only the first two italicized paragraphs. Rest is normal. Lmao, my bad.
[Eren]
Mikasa cried several times that night.
I take her lips in mine again tenderly, passionately - as if this moment, in all it's enthrallingly seductive glory, will be over the second my lips pry themselves from the velvety texture of hers. My hand caresses the side of her face, careening around the back of her neck as Mikasa lets out an adorable whimper. I roll my hips slowly against hers, her nails digging deep into the muscles of my back, and I stifle a groan. "E-Eren," my name pours from between her lips like syrup - sweet, seductive; an irresistible commodity I'd willingly empty my bank account for at every opportunity. I slowly ease out of her, before once again shifting my body so as to plunge back in, this time deeper, the groan that has settled in my throat for the past minute finally escaping my grasp. Her bare body is flush against mine, breasts pinned against my chest as our hands lay above her head while I continue to make love to her. I rest my forehead against hers, of which a glistening film of sweat has formed over. Unable to curb the liquid pleasure that traverses across every inch of my body, I can't help but let out another strangled moan. "M-Mika," her name rolls off my tongue before I have a chance to contain it, the sound of our ecstasies merging between us. I open my eyes, eager to soak up the image of what I already know is the most gorgeous girl in the world at the mercy of my fingertips. Despite this fact, nothing could have prepared me for the breathtaking sight before me - her eyes are closed, nose scrunched and cheeks flushed an insane shade of red. Her lips rest parted as a mouth-watering moan escapes them and into the space between us, and my body can't help but respond as a tantalizing shiver runs itself along my spine. Her hair fans out against the pillow beneath her, strands stuck to the sides of her face; no wonder she's so coveted. Any man who'd make it to the end of his life without having witnessed her this way, with ecstasy plastered across her features and fingers grasped tautly against their skin, will have died never having seen real beauty. Oh, the lucky man I am; I'd undoubtedly form a deal with the devil himself if it meant I could forever spend every night like this with her.
I roll my hips once more, another wave of unadulterated pleasure lapping away at my already wavering resolve; it's taking everything I have not to finish this right here and now, to grab her with as much force as I can muster and have my way with her completely. I feel Mikasa's body tense. A small sniffle escapes her. I pause, unsure if what I just heard was for real. Another sniffle. "...Mika?" I ask softly, my thumb stroking the area under her eyes tenderly. Her skin is moist with tears. "Mika," I repeat, and she opens her eyes. Her thick lashes flutter against the skin of her eyelids, beads of water wedged between them. Why is she crying? Does it hurt? Am I being too rough, perhaps? "I-I'm okay, Bright Eyes," Mikasa responds meekly - her voice wavering with a strong sense of uncertainty. "Does it hurt? We can stop if you want," I peck her on the lips gingerly. Despite my body's astounding urge to keep going, the satisfaction it's fighting so urgently to achieve but has yet to reach, my desire for Mikasa to be alright remains unmatched. Attempting to attain such a high would only prove redundant if I couldn't enjoy it wholly with her.
I feel her shake her head against my lips. "N-no, it's okay. I'm okay," the desperate tone in her voice sends a tremor through my chest. While she says it to reassure me, I can't help but feel as though the only person she's trying to convince is herself. She brings her hand up to the side of my face, doing the same as I just did to her. I search her eyes as best I can in the dimly lit space, our heavy breathing becoming a cocktail of lust and love between us. I've never seen Mikasa this vulnerable; open. She's always frozen me out - to see her like this now, begging me to show her affection in the profoundest way possible, makes me want so badly to give in to her.
For a moment, I do indeed entertain the thought - yet the reasonable part of my mind shuts that notion down just as quickly as it appeared. I know Mikasa - at least well enough to know that when she says she's okay, she very much isn't.
We lay like this for a brief moment, in complete silence; our bodies still yet remaining tightly intertwined - almost as if were we to let go, the end of the world would be upon us. "...Mika, it's okay. We really don't have t-"
"Please."
[Mikasa]
I'd begged. I, of all people, had begged for him to continue. Despite my tears, for some reason, I wanted to keep going; I wanted more. More of his touch, his kiss, his affection - the way he caressed my body as if I were some priceless artefact to be revered, exalted. Handled only with care for fear it might break if one touched it the wrong way. The way his hands graced themselves over my body was nothing like I'd ever imagined; hauntingly comforting. His lips, how plush they felt whenever they pressed themselves against my bare body - unadulterated affection sweeping beneath my skin and relieving me of every tension. The way his body - corded with muscles - rolled against mine as he took my hand in his in sinful delight.
I'd never thought in a million years I would be able to have such a christening experience; something that transcended beyond the physical realm and one-dimensional ordeal of everyday casual sex - and yet, here I was, at the mercy of a man who managed to make me feel just that when no other could. I couldn't get enough of it.
"P-please, Eren." I stroke his cheek sweetly, the heat of his skin setting my freezing fingertips alight. I look up at him in the low light; his sea-foam and topaz eyes are glazed over and half-lidded, his hair that was once tightly bound at the back of his head now reduced to nothing but a loose, messy bun at the nape of his neck. Longer strands of his hair that have since fallen out dangle from the sides of his head. His neck is covered in a thin film of sweat, lips parted as he heaves heavily. To see him like this - in a vastly different state from what I'm typically used to seeing - stirs something deep in the pit of my stomach. All I can think about is how divinely captivating he appears, and how much I need him. I squeeze his hand. I watch as his eyes dart between mine, a glimmer of compassion traversing across his iris'. He opens his mouth to speak again, but I quickly cut him off as I crane my neck, ramming my lips against his before he can have a chance to talk me out of it.
My lips press against his with such a force, a groan immediately rips through Eren's throat as he returns it with an even greater intensity. I sense Eren attempt to recoil back, hesitant, and in an act of desperation slip my tongue between the seam of his lips. Another guttural moan escapes him, and I smile; yes, Eren. That's it. Don't stop. My hand removes itself from his cheek, developing a mind of its own as it brushes against the texture of his toned chest, travelling south. I feel Eren shudder at the contact and internally rejoice. Motivated to compel him further, I take his bottom lip between my teeth as we separate. At this, Eren seemingly snaps, no longer able to maintain his composure as he thrusts his hips vivaciously against mine. I immediately feel the wave of pleasure I've been longing for hit, my hand flying up to his hair and gripping it ardently. I throw my head back, mouth agape. "A-Ah! E-Eren," I moan, a warm feeling brewing in the pit of my stomach. This. This is what it's supposed to feel like. Eren silences me with yet another kiss, and for a moment I'm in absolute bliss - this euphoric cocktail of bodily pleasure and Eren's affection is one I wish to experience all the time. I squeeze my eyes shut, eager to think only about him, about Eren.
Everything was perfect; nothing like what my father's actions had led me to believe sex to be like. So why did I cry? Why was I so distraught after the fact? I enjoyed it. I loved it. So why? Why did those cursed memories have to plague my mind, take it hostage like that? I had been so desperate in the moment for his warmth, his touch - for the embrace of his affection to sweep me away from the horrid reality that laid lurking behind Eren's bedroom door. And yet, those memories still made their way into the moment of bliss I wanted to believe I deserved, had patiently waited and prayed for for years. Now, all I can think about is how foolish I was; I had sex with Eren. We fucked. And even afterwards, I didn't leave - I stayed. Fell asleep in his bed. Let him pull me close. I'd foolishly hoped that my night terrors would be kept at bay if I stayed, wrapped tightly in his caress as he stroked my hair and hummed a soothing tune against the side of my head. Nonetheless, the comfort of his grasp was no match for the stray tears that escaped onto my cheeks and fell to the pillow with a soft 'pat.' Eren had noticed that, too, no matter how much I wanted him not to. He'd whispered in my ear as we felt sleep arrive at our doorstep; "Are you okay, Mika?" He'd asked. I'd nodded at my head at the time - despite my tears - because I was. I was elated, still riding the emotional high the experience had blessed me with only moments before. I knew the tears I shed were only grief, but what did I have to grieve? I'd lost my virginity long ago.
Perhaps it was that fact - the fact something so chaste and precious had been ripped away from me five years too early. That something as small as one's own virginity was what I should have been able to give someone - in particular, Eren - and yet I was robbed of that opportunity to choose who, when, and where. Perhaps that was what I mourned; a loss of choice. But I had chosen to have sex with Eren, didn't I? And something as flimsy as the notion of virginity wasn't something particularly close to my heart. So why did my heart, despite the euphoria it was coated in, feel so heavy? I was happy. Contented. Elated.
And yet, I knew in that instant, as we both welcomed the dark embrace of sleep, that those weren't the only emotions my heart was harboring. That I had been a fool to believe that sleeping with Eren would be more than a temporary fix.
Of course, it wasn't.
"No, O-Otousan, p-please... stop. Stop!" I scream, my eyes welling with tears as the shadow creeps toward me. His body is outlined in the backlight of the window behind him, his body shrouded in darkness. Please stop. Please go away. I can't take anymore of this. I shuffle my body away from him, my back hitting the wall as a gut-wrenching scream travels it's way to the edge of my lips. It doesn't make it out; a hand clamps itself tightly against my mouth, and I feel the tears spill over, hot against my cheeks. I kick and scream as his grimy hands grip my legs, which have turned to jelly. "D-Daddy! S-stop! What are you doi- no!" My pajamas are ripped from my body. No. No, no, no, no, no. I cry for my mother, Levi - anybody that might be able to hear me. And yet it's all for naught; the slimy sausage-like texture of his fingers grazes my bare skin, and I scream against his hand. Stop. Stop. Stop. I squeeze my eyes shut.
"Open your eyes, Mikasa." I recoil away from the sticky scent of his breath, eager to get away from this grimy monster's hands. I shake my head, screaming as his hands glide their way selfishly over my body. "Open them," he demands, squeezing my thigh. I scream again into his hand as my eyes flutter open in response. I feel my heartbeat stop.
One eye, a greeny-blue teal. A sea-foam color I'd know anywhere. The other a smoky topaz. My eyes widen in shock; no. No, no, no, no, no. Eren wouldn't do that. He wouldn't ra-
"You're going to be quiet, understand?" His voice echoes against my ear, and I can feel his hot breath tickle my ear. I shake my head, becoming even more unhinged. My eyes land on a photo frame on the bedside table, and I see a woman with dark-brown hair. And that's when I realize; I'm no longer in my old room, in Japan. We're in his room. Eren's room. I'm no longer a child, but eighteen. I feel a white hot pain shoot across my temple and yell out in pain. A wad of fabric muffles my cries as he gags me, and I struggle against his grasp. "Stop it, Eren!" I try to say, but my words only come out as strangled cries against the thick cloth. "This isn't you!" My words fall on deaf ears. "Shut the fuck up," he snarls, and I cower away from him once more. His hands make their way south. No. Stop. For fuck's sake, please; I've already been through this once. Don't make me go through it a second time. I'd sooner die than go through it again. Please. Please. Please.
"Mikasa? You okay?" I hear Levi's name call from the other side of my bedroom door. I respond with an exasperated grunt, unwilling to get out of my bed to unlock it. I just want to be alone right now. A sigh. "Mikasa, you've been hiding yourself away in there all weekend. Did something happen? Was it Dad? Please, open the door. You're scaring me." His tone is begging. I feel a pang of guilt envelop my chest; I can't. If I open that door, he'll see it written on my face; the grief I feel, the anxiety I've been plagued with ever since I set foot outside of Eren's house, and the regret that's been eating away at me ever since I opened my eyes on that god forsaken morning. He'll ask me why I look like I haven't slept a wink. Like an empty shell of a person. Like I've just done something I knew one-hundred percent I shouldn't have done.
And I'll tell him - I'll break. I won't be able to keep it in, I know it. He'll learn everything - about Eren and what we did, and about what happened after. About Annie and Ymir, their conversation. About my hallucinations, night terrors; the fact that they're only getting worse, not better.
Why? Why isn't anything getting any better? My father hasn't touched me in over a week. I've got Levi looking out for me. So why does it feel like everything is a thousand times more insufferable than before Levi knew? Before Eren and I slept together? It doesn't make sense.
I remain with my body planted firmly between the bedsheets. "...Mika, please. Just let me in." Mika. The nickname triggers an array of emotions; memories of Eren I would prefer to keep buried beneath the surface.
"Go away, Levi."
[Eren]
Mikasa had grappled onto me so tightly that night; so firm it felt as if her fingers would break. Her legs had wrapped themselves so tightly around my hips, as if letting go of me meant I'd disappear into thin air. She behaved that night as if she knew something I didn't, something that meant that once the night ended, whatever we had between us would as well. Her body had felt frail against mine as I'd pulled her close, her fingers lacing themselves with mine. I'd stroked her hair as we welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep following our strenuous activities. Hummed a sweet tune in her ear. She'd kissed me goodnight; "Sweet dreams, Bright Eyes." She'd said. She'd slept soundly for what I would assume for the first time in a while.
Well, for the most part.
"N-no...p-please...tousan.." Mikasa's voice penetrates the peaceful silence, her words slurred as her body jerks violently, sending the blankets into disarray. My body is heavy with sleep as I yawn, wrapping my warm tighter around her as I bury my head into the crook of her neck. My hand comes up to the side of her head as I play with her hair tenderly, hoping it will bring her some comfort. Her breathing soon becomes labored, however, her back pressing against my bare chest as she begins to convulse into a ball. "N-no..." she mumbles, her voice cracking. "P-plea..." her words trail off as I try my best to calm her, worry consuming me in my drowsy state. "...Mika?" I ask tiredly. She doesn't respond. "Shhh, it's okay," I whisper, kissing her cheek in the hopes it will settle her. She awakens with a jolt, her body erecting itself as a scream emits from between her lips. I bring myself up to sit up alongside her as panic overwhelming my senses - if I wasn't awake a moment ago, I sure as hell am now. "Mika!" I whisper-shout, turning to my bedside table so as to turn my lamp on. I turn to face her again; fresh tears stain her cheeks. She's inconsolable, hair stuck to the sides of her face as she bursts into shrieks and cries. Her hand shifts from my bicep - which until now she had been holding onto with an iron grip - and brings her arms to wrap around her knees as she buries her head between them. I bring my hand to her wrists in an attempt to pry them from her face, but am met only with resistance as she shrieks for me to let her go. "No! S-Stop! Okaasan!" Her body thrashes around beneath the sheets as I struggle to sedate her. "Mikasa! Mika!" I whisper-yell again, trying to keep my volume at a bare minimum. "Hey! It's me, it's Eren!" I continue, eventually managing to pry her hands from her face. "It's just me," I repeat, my voice a lot softer. Her head snaps up at this, eyes darting violently from side to side as she takes in her surroundings. Her eyes eventually rest on me, a look of sheer terror pooling beneath her grey iris'. I watch as her pupils dilate before she realizes where she is, her cries ceasing. For a moment all that can be heard is the sound of her short-winded breathing. "You're okay, Mika. You're safe. Come'ere." Her face contorts into one of emotional anguish, before a strangled moan escapes her lips as the waterworks start again. She buries her head in my chest, and I pull her in for a hug as I wrap my arms around her. My hand finds its way to her head once again, and I stroke the back of it tenderly. Her fingers dig into my shoulder blades angrily. An unbridled cry makes its way onto my chest as Mikasa's entire body shakes and trembles in my lap. "Shhh, Mika. It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," I whisper sweetly as I kiss the top of her head. My hand traces circles against her back. "It's okay. I've got you. It was just a dream."
She only woke that one time, and yet it was enough to strike fear and panic into any man's heart. We'd sat like that for a long time, me holding her as she once again poured her emotions into my chest. I'd never seen her that inconsolable; the times I'd gone over to her house, I'd witnessed her trouble sleeping - and yet those experiences could never have prepared me for what I'd just witnessed. Even when we'd been sat in my car only a few hours earlier, the wailing she'd let out was no match for the shrieks of pure terror I heard in the early hours of that morning. It was as if, for a moment when she awoke, she wasn't mentally there. As if she was witnessing a starkly different reality from the one I was. The more I learn about and experience this side of Mikasa - the one that seems to be buried under an arsenal of alter egos and brash behaviors - the less I like what I see. Until that point I had just begrudgingly accepted Mikasa's closed off and secretive behavior, but seeing what I'd just witnessed only made my desire to know what made her like this burn stronger.
After she'd calmed down, I'd told her it would be best for her to try and get some sleep, since she seems to get so little of it, but once again she'd refused - arguing that she was too afraid the night terrors would return. So, we'd just laid there - talking about the most random things in a bid to get her mind off of it.
I pull Mikasa close to my chest, my hand lacing together with hers as the other sat tangled in her hair, scratching her head. Her breathing is still shallow but her crying seems to have ceased. I hear a small sniffle as I kiss the top of her head again. She cranes her head up to look at me, the whites of her eyes dusted pink. "Are you okay now, Mika?" I ask, and she nods her head against my chest. "Y-yeah. Sorry." Is all she manages. My thumb strokes the back of her hand gently. "It's okay. You don't have to be sorry about it," I respond compassionately. I hear another sniffle, before Mikasa once again begins to cry. "Mika? Why are you crying again? What's wrong?" I inquire. "...I'm so fucking pathetic," she chokes out, her grip on her hand tightening tenfold. I pull her closer. "...shhh, no you're not," my hand leaves hers, coming to rest beneath her chin. I peck her on the lips. "You had a nightmare - by the sounds of it, a pretty bad one. I would have reacted the same way. Don't say that." She doesn't respond. Silence creeps upon us like a shadow. "...I don't know what you've been through, but I'm smart enough to know it was a lot. You're more resilient than you give yourself credit for, Mika." To that, she doesn't respond either. It's as if her entire mind has shut down on the account of receiving my words of kindness. For a moment I think she's fallen asleep.
"...can we.." her delicate voice trails off almost as quickly as she spoke. "...can we talk about something else?" she asks, voice quivering. I waver for a second. "Don't you think you should try and sleep? You don't seem to get much sleep as it is," I respond. I hope she doesn't take it the wrong way. Of course, I'd love nothing more than to stay up late and talk about sweet nothings, holding her in my arms as we are now; but I also know that Mikasa doesn't seem to sleep all that well on the regular. For her to lose more sleep because of me would only leave me with guilt; I don't want her body to suffer in the morning. I feel Mikasa grip my hand tighter - if even possible at this point - as she shakes her head violently. "...I don't want to. I'm scared. Please, Eren? It can be about anything." Mikasa begs, and I sigh, chuckling. "Okay, then. Got any conversation topics in mind?"
She'd opened up to me more than she had ever done historically. I'd learned that her favorite subject was art history - that she enjoyed reading and horror films, with a poignant love for gothic narratives. I remember laughing at that; go figure, Mikasa's into all things abject and horrifying. I'd learned that she is, at heart, a very expressive person, with a love for photography. Her favorite color is pink; for its innocence, she said. That particular fact had shocked me - pink seemed so unfitting for a girl so cold and stoic; abrasive. And yet, it made her personality all the more endearing to me. I'd learned during that conversation Mikasa was so much more than she appeared to be. She wasn't someone who got a kick out of seeing other people's pain, but also wasn't the person to outwardly express her own. She'd internalize all of it, and in turn it had only created a false monstrous feminine as a biproduct.
I remember asking if the paintings and sketches I'd seen hung above her desk in her room were hers - they were. The haunting photographs of old, dilapidated Japanese houses and temples - framed in gold that hung in the hallway of her home - were taken by her. She'd taken the photographs on a trip to Japan one summer holiday. It had prompted me to ask about her family heritage.
Mikasa brings her wrist to my face - the one without any scars. A tattoo resides there, a thick black circle with what looks to be an 'A' inked in the center. For a moment I'm shocked that I never noticed it before - yet, come to think of it I've rarely ever seen Mikasa wear anything with short sleeves, and when she did, her arms were always heavily adorned with an array of bracelets. I realize now that it was a tactic to hide her wrists. But why hide the tattoo? "What is it?" I ask inquisitively, my hand coming to her wrist as I pull it up to inspect it closer. I notice that the 'A' is constructed from a triad of swords. I direct my gaze to her face. She wears a somewhat shameful expression, as if speaking of it were to bring up a painful memory. "...it's my family's crest. Surely you've seen it? It's on the front door of my house." I try to recall the many a memory of being stood outside her front door, realizing she's right; in fact, if I can remember correctly, it appears twice - one stamped on each of the double doors. "...you're right," is all I can manage. "A for Ackerman, I assume?" She shakes her head curtly. "Azumabito, my mother's clan. Levi has one as well. They're meant to serve as a reminder of my family's history. My mother told me our family has a prestigious heritage, and that we should be proud of it - I guess this is how our ancestors chose to do so."
[Mikasa]
I did absolutely everything I told myself I wouldn't do; I let him get too close. I trusted him. Dropped my defenses, too wound up in the sweet taste of his affection and comfort to deny myself the opportunity - no matter how my reasoning and logic was screaming to me to stop. I'd told him things I've never told anyone - about myself, my family. All the hard work I'd done until that point to keep people away from me had gone well and surely out the window the moment I opened my mouth.
I only made it worse by showing interest in him - in his favorite color, favorite movie. All those particles of information I drew out of him was just another way of saying, 'I want to get closer to you.' I couldn't have been more foolish and impulsive in my actions - a truly lamentable decision.
"Okay. What about you? What's your favorite color?" I mumble against his chest. His fingers fumble with mine, squeezing my hand in a tender act of affection. A moment's silence. "...green." I smile; for some reason, I'm not surprised. In fact, one could say I expected the answer. "Why?" Is all I counter with. "You'll laugh if I tell you," he says hesitantly. His eyes are half-lidded, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes scan over my features before making contact with mine. I feel Eren's hand continue to knead my hair in a circular motion - oh, how comforting it feels. A diffident blush dusts my cheeks as blood rushes to them. "Why the fuck are you looking at me like that, Bright Eyes?" I say softly. Eren refuses to break eye contact as a slight chuckle escapes his lip. I feel my heart palpitate. "Nothing," he says. I scowl.
"Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, why green is my favorite color. It's be-"
"Don't change the subject, you idiot." Another airy laugh escapes him, and I watch as he throws his head back slightly. The sight of him doing so generates an unfamiliar warmth in my chest, and I can't help but adore the sight before me. He brings his head back down to face me, his hand shifting from my hair to the side of my face. "Brash as ever, I see," he comments slyly, and I kick his shin underneath the blankets. "Ow!" Eren grimaces as he feigns hurt. "Answer the question," I say aggressively, and he sighs. He shuffles his body closer to mine - a feat I thought impossible - and brings his face close I feel his nose brush against mine. A shaky breath. "Mika," he stammers, voice a low husk of a whisper. Oh, how I love it when he calls me that. "I know we've just..." he trails off. "...engaged in strenuous activities," Eren emphasizes the word 'strenuous,' and I feel the blush that has rested upon my cheeks for the last minute suddenly set ablaze, my entire face probably now beet-red. This Eren isn't like the one I've come to know; his tone suddenly carries a somewhat cocky disposition, a brazenness in his words he didn't have before. And yet, I don't find it off-putting in the slightest; if anything, it only makes me more intrigued. Exactly what kind of person are you, Eren Jaeger?
"But I just really want to kiss you right now. That's why." Eren's voice interrupts my thoughts. A small blush has taken the liberty of dusting his cheeks, and I let out a laugh. I bring my eyes back to meet his. "Of course you do," I respond flirtatiously, and mentally chastise myself. Stop it, Mikasa. You're only encouraging him. My own thoughts go completely ignored however, and I snake my arms lazily around his neck. My fingers come to play with a stray strand of hair, twirling it over and over. Eren doesn't take his eyes off of me the entire time. I watch as a smirk graces his features, brows raising. "Mhm," he hums, his head inching even closer to mine. My body begins to move on its own accord, my head drawing ever closer to his. "Shameless," is all I say as I shake my head slightly. It only takes a moment for the tiny gap that remains between us to close, and I smile against the kiss. Eren returns the favor ferociously, his hand still stroking the side of my face tenderly. I feel him unlace his fingers with mine as his hand flies to my waist, before our bodies suddenly shift. I soon find myself sat on top of him, our lips still latched onto each other as if our lives depended on it. My hands come to rest on his bare chest, and I feel that familiar arousing euphoria strike a nerve. For fuck's sake, why is this man so addicting? Those words Eren said to me that morning after the party echo throughout my mind once again; I just can't seem to stay away.
It would seem we're suffering from the same affliction, Bright Eyes.
We pull away, breathless and foreheads resting against each other. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, relishing in the moment. "...I really like nature. Well, my mom did. She used to garden, and I would join her. There's just something about nature - whenever I'm around it, it feels like she's right here with me." Eren says, and it takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about. He's answering my question from earlier. "It's why I'm always out by that tree, or sat on that bench." I immediately let out a laugh, shaking my head against his. My hand comes to rest on his cheek once again. Although I know I shouldn't laugh, I can't help myself; there's something hilarious about envisioning Eren with a bucket hat and dirty gloves, knelt down over a flower patch with a fistful of peonies in hand. With his ever-growing cockiness and masculine physique the scenario is insanely difficult to picture. "You're such an idiot." A sigh.
"I told you you'd laugh."
Eren had told me many other things - about his father being a doctor back in Germany, but hadn't yet received his license to practice in the US; he enjoyed video games, comics, and reading books. His favorite genres were crime and mystery, he'd told me. He'd informed me of his love for ice sports - like ice-skating and hockey - and asked if I'd ever tried anything of the sort. I'd told him no. He said that once mid-semester exams were over, he'd take me ice-skating. I'd grown excited at that fact but - just like when he suggested revisiting the evergreen - quickly realized I'd probably be gone before we got the chance.
I sigh. There's no way I can change what happened, no matter how desperately I want for that to happen. Just like when Levi found out about Dad, Eren now knows so much more than I ever intended him to - and at his own detriment. This is why you don't get close to people, Mikasa. You fucking knew this would happen. I shake my head; if I just hadn't gone on that drive with him, if I hadn't let him hold my hand or kiss my wrist - if I just hadn't even responded to his message in the first place, everything would be exactly how it should be. Another mournful sigh escapes my lips. You realize you're gonna have to face the consequences of your actions now, right? You're gonna have to look him in the eyes and tell him you don't want him. That he was just an easy fuck. I feel tears sting the back of my eyes - I'm so sick of crying. I've done so much of it since leaving Eren's.
Of course, I don't want to hurt Eren; even the sheer thought of doing so makes me nauseous. Yet I know it has to be done; I'm leaving. Going back to Japan in a little under a month. I know my father; there's no way he'll actually let us stay here until the end of senior year.
I grab my phone from the bedside table, opening Instagram; you have three unread messages from E_Jägermeister. He's been messaging me every day since I left. It's not that I don't want to respond; of course I do, but what can I say? What is there to say? To try and have a normal conversation with him would be cruel; it would be like stringing him along on a leash, as if he were some sort of attention-starved puppy. I'd just be leading him on, letting him think he has a chance at whatever it is he thinks we are.
But I don't want to lose what little reprieve I've found in him by delivering a harsh lie that will surely cut deep. You know you're going to have to do it, Mikasa. Do what, exactly? Tell him the other night was a mistake? Tell him to stop contacting me, and have to witness the pain I've caused him painted across his features every day at school? I couldn't do that, not to him. You've got to.
This circular thinking carries on for quite some time, before another rap on my door draws me back from whatever fourth dimension I've just spent the last few minutes in. "...dinner will be in ten." Levi's voice carries a melancholic timbre to it, and I can't help but feel guilt consume me once again; he sounds so frustrated, worried - concerned. And yet I, being the absolute worthless shit I am, refuse to do anything to relieve him of it. Selfish.
"I'm not hungry." Is all I respond with, unable to stomach even the thought of eating. Just the concept alone is nauseating. "Now fuck off."
[Eren]
The warm glare of the sun blankets itself over my body, beckoning me awake. I feel the soft sheets of my bed wrapped tightly around my ankles, and groan as my eyes flutter open. I hear a soft, feminine moan emit into the atmosphere, and I suddenly become aware of where I am - and why.
My eyes land on the peacefully sleeping face of a raven-haired beauty, her hair strewn across half of her face. Her cherry lips are parted slightly, breathing steady. Long lashes brush the skin beneath her eyes, a pink-red hue dusting her cheekbones. Her body lays bare, save for my scarf, barely covered by the bedsheets as her chest heaves up and down. Her chin is buried into the folds of my scarf. I smile. She's sleeping so serenely - a sight I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of seeing until now.
My arm rests delicately under her head, the other wrapped tightly around her waist as her body lays pressed against mine. Her arm, too, rests underneath her head - our fingers still intertwined in a tight embrace above it. I prop myself up on my elbow, my free hand coming to the sides of her face as it gently brushes a piece of hair from it. Memories of last night flood my mind in debilitating waves - the feeling of her bare body flush against mine, the feathery touch of her fingers against my skin, tangled in my hair. The expression she wore; her eyes brimming with only warmth and affection. My thumb comes to rest on her cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. I can't help but stare as she lays there peacefully, unknowingly allowing me to soak up every inch of her in an image that will forever be ingrained into my memory. I chuckle to myself; it's ironic how only a few months ago I'd tried to convince myself I hated her.
My eyes find their way to her now bare wrist - free of bandages, those dark red gashes completely out in the open for me to see. I feel my heart sink as I recall her cries; how her tears wet the pillow as she turned her head into it in a bid to quiet herself. She cried so many times in the span of one night - enough to warrant concern in anyone who had the displeasure of witnessing it. At first I thought it was because I'd hurt her, since it was her first time - but the longer the night went on, the more I realized that something wasn't right. She wasn't crying because it hurt physically. Something was bubbling under the surface, I know it. I feel as if the answer is right under my nose, staring me straight in the eyes, yet I can't for the life of me think of anything that would warrant her tears.
My train of thought is interrupted by the sound of Mikasa stirring, her soft voice shattering the peaceful silence. I watch as she squeezes her eyes tightly. She lets out a small whimper which turns into an unrelenting yawn, her body arching back in an attempt to stretch the sleep out. For a moment after she stays completely still, before her eyes flutter open to reveal those gorgeous stormy greys I can only help but revere. It takes a few seconds before Mikasa realizes where she is, her eyes darting from left to right before landing on my face. For a second I assume she's going to lock eyes with me, but her eyes continue to travel downward, scanning my bare chest. My hand remains against her cheek as I feel a burning sensation brew beneath it, and a red hue graces her cheeks. I smile; how the fuck can she be this cute when she's responsible for putting half the student body in the infirmary?
I simply observe her adorably flustered behavior as her half-awake mind comes to terms with the situation. Her free hand comes up to the blankets of the bed and yanks them up over her head, letting out an embarrassed groan. I laugh; the poor girl only just realized she's completely naked - and I can see everything.
"Shut up!" She yells from beneath the blankets, and I shuffle my body closer to hers. I hear her yelp as she slaps my shoulder underneath the covers, her head jerking out of the top to shoot me a glare. "Mika," I start, unable to contain my amusement, "what are you doing under there? You know I've already seen everything, right?" Another frustrated groan as she buries her face in my scarf. "Fuck off, Bright Eyes." I bring the hand that's still intertwined to her chin, forcing her head up to face me. I lean forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Still not a morning person, I see." I respond cockily as we pull away and the scowl present on her face only deepens. She rolls over, her back now facing me - a childish attempt at ignoring me. I roll my eyes at her immaturity, before scooping my arm around her waist and pulling her bare body closer to mine. She yelps, body tensing. Thinking I've hurt her, I loosen my grip on her waist before she lets out a shaky breath. "Mika?" I ask tentatively, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." A few seconds silence. "...it's okay," she responds shakily.
If there's one thing I've noticed from being intimate with Mikasa, it's how jumpy she always seems whenever I touch her unexpectedly - yet I always seem to forget about it. I make a mental note to work on that. I feel her hand come to rest on mine against her stomach, and I take that as her way of telling me I can move. I pull her closer until her back is pressed up against my chest. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, pressing my lips against her milky skin. I feel her shudder a tiny bit. Her head now rests against my other arm, and I bring my hand up to play with her hair. I pull away. "Did you sleep okay? Y'know, after?" I ask vaguely, not wanting to go into explicit detail about what happened in fear it might upset her. She nods her head. "...yeah. Thank you."
I stare down at the message thread I currently have open on my phone; one message after another just has the same receipt - sent. I sigh. For a moment that morning, I'd felt as if I'd finally broken through the barrier Mikasa constantly keeps herself contained within. I remember how different kissing her that morning was - compared to the day I dropped her home - and how right it had felt. The day I'd dropped her off, the kiss was charged with so much desperate energy, as if to signify a call for help; but that morning, with our bodies beneath my bedsheets and fingers tightly intertwined, all I could sense was happiness on her lips. Contentment. A euphoric energy no amount of words in the English language could possibly articulate.
Regardless, that viewpoint seems naïve to have now. It's been two days since then, yet I've received nothing but the ghost of Mikasa's presence lingering around me like a bad smell. I sigh, staring back down at my phone as it glares unforgivingly back.
Come on, Mikasa. Say something.
-•0•-
Hello, my dears! Thank you all for waiting so patiently. I understand I left the last chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger. I'm not going to lie when I say that this was probably the most difficult chapter I've ever had to write - I wrote about 5 drafts (6 technically if you include this version) before I was happy with it. I've been sat at my laptop for about 8 hours at this point, just writing this... yeah, this chapter was no easy feat.
Mikasa's inner turmoil was also so fucking difficult, but we won't get into too deep into that. It was really weird to write her perspective this time, because I'm so used to her seeing Eren in a negative light.
Either way, I hope I did a good job!
I honestly wanted to add more, but felt at this point I was pushing it (at almost 8,000 words). But don't worry, hopefully the next chapter will be out soon.
In the meantime, let me know what you guys think! Your feedback means a lot to me and motivates me to get better with each chapter. What do you think will happen next? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Please remember to vote, comment and subscribe for more content.
Love you guys,
~ Touka <3