LIES WE TELL OURSELVES IN ORDER TO LIVE
areo-breaking
Shingeki no Kyojin is not mine.
The apartment is in an old establishment, years pass by and it remains, even though the city keeps on changing, keeps on shifting and transforming.
The first time Mikasa sets foot in it she knows that this small place would be the end of something old and the beginning something new. Her suspicions are reassured when Eren gives her a hesitant smile, his eyes glowing in that certain way that lets her know that he's lying or is doing something he doesn't want to. She doesn't say anything. Not because she can't, but because she doesn't want to.
In the coming months she's too busy with organization and transferring from one university to another to pay much attention to the way Eren clearly has something to say to her. She avoids it for as long as she can.
But one day, after dropping by the grocery store, she comes home to an empty apartment. With a hastily written note left on the table. A simple, I can't do this anymore in Eren's slanted script is all that she is left with.
Mikasa begins preparing dinner for two, she eats, and stores the extra plate away in the fridge.
She doesn't cry.
Eren realizes that everything people had said about him was a lie. He wasn't a selfless man, he wasn't someone who did things without an ulterior motive. This, he has come to realize in the last year and it's only because with the passing months Mikasa's shoulders drop just a little lower every time he visits.
At the moment he's sitting in the kitchen table, hands busy flipping through a photography book. He was more than sure that it belonged to Sasha, who he still couldn't face without feeling like he had demons hanging onto his shoulders. When they were in high school he remembers her being the first person Mikasa had befriended that wasn't Armin or himself. She was a happy girl, even if she ate too much for his taste or anyone's for that matter, and she was always running after school, even when it was pouring outside, the only time he remembers her not running was when it was snowing. Every day, without fail she would be running laps around the school, and after a few months of their friendship she had somehow managed to persuade Mikasa into joining Track.
He turns his eyes to a small table that sits next to the window, there a long with a few picture frames is a medal they won when the team made it to nationals. He looks around the room, everything was in place, not a thing had changed since he had last been here. Not the position of the sofas, or the T.V., not the table or the chairs, or the emptiness he felt every time he stepped through the door way.
He looks back at Mikasa, her shoulders rising up and down as she made him dinner. It's sad.
But he doesn't dare say anything, not when the cause of her sadness was him, not when he was the one who constantly prodded at her bloody wound.
"Your hair has gotten longer." He says, only to break the silence that threatens to eat him alive. "You should cut it."
The next day, Mikasa's hair is the way she had kept it all through high school and college; above her shoulders, framing her pretty face.
Again, he muses, you've lost again.
Sasha rambles on about how nice the weather is for pictures. Mikasa, she knows, is only giving her one fourth of her attention, and that, Sasha thinks, is only being generous. But even if knows Mikasa isn't paying attention Sasha keeps talking on, because Eren had visited, from the looks of Mikasa's hair.
And every time Eren visited it was like a cloud had fallen over her head, and Mikasa mulled.
And when that happened one of two things would take place, either Mikasa would drag her along to nearest bar and get completely wasted or she would sit in her apartment drowning herself in work. Sasha didn't like either option. But whatever option she choose Sasha would be there, either by painstakingly taking shot after shot of vodka or by mindlessly flipping through T.V. channels. She would be there, to remind Mikasa that she wasn't alone.
Sometimes she hates herself, because she permits this to go on. Because she lets Mikasa do this to herself. Because Sasha herself has become part of the routine that Eren's visits caused.
This time, even though she risks getting her ass handed to her, she would change the routine.
"Lets go bungee jumping." She exclaims, standing up from the table.
Mikasa looks at her warily, "Sasha I—"
"It'll be fun, you'll see." She says, as she pulls their jackets from the closet.
Before Mikasa protests further Sasha's already pushing her out the door. Keys and purse hanging of one shoulder and jackets in the other.
For the first time in his life, Levi is close to that feeling people call nervousness.
It's not the first time he's in a woman's apartment, he's been to Hange's more than he can count and Petra usually invites him over for coffee or something or the other. But it's the first time he's in Mikasa Ackerman's apartment.
He remembers her, faintly, from high school. She had been a freshman when he was a senior and they had only ever exchanged glares. Something about him wiping the floor with her boyfriend, Levi never cared to listen to the rambles of people he would never have to deal with again. How wrong he had been.
She puts some drinks and snacks on the table, her hair bouncing slightly as she takes a seat across from him. She slides him a cup of tea and he takes it.
It had been pure coincidence. And he can vouch for that, he had never been one to believe in coincidences but this was the only word he could find to name their meeting. He had been in search of a book at a bookstore that she frequently visited and they had bumped into each other when they both reached for the door at the same time. Him pulling and her pushing it open. It had been an awkward minute before either of them moved.
And that brought them to their current predicament, as soon as he had stepped out of the establishment it began raining, hard. In a matter of seconds he was soaked down to his bones. He began cursing his luck until he heard the muffled giggles coming from behind him. He turned around and was met with stoic face but he could still see the amusement dancing behind her eyes.
"I live nearby, would you like to wait there until the rain passes?" She had asked, her lips curling up, if only just slightly.
He still didn't know why he had agreed, but the tea was warm and the apartment was cozy and not bitting cold.
He tells himself, as he looks at a strand of Mikasa's hair falling forward, that those where the only perks.
In the past four months her apartment has become entirely too familiar to him.
He knows every nook and cranny of it. He knows there's a leak in the corner of the living room and he knows that Mikasa hates the pale, faded color of the walls.
So with this thought, he buys a can of light green paint he knows she likes, because it reminds her of a lake by her old home, she had told him once, and paints it for her, she stands to the side and watches him; looking as if he was tearing off some old dried blood from a cut.
"You could help me, you know."
She snaps out of her daze, and in an instant moves to the paint tray. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. It's not like I need your help or anything."
She turns to look at him, a strange look on her face, "You sounded just like a tsundere."
Levi feels his cheeks warm. "Like hell."
"I'm just kidding." She murmurs, walking up behind him and wrapping her hand around his as he slides the roller up and down the wall. "Thanks," she says into his neck, "I really appreciate this."
"Of course you do." He says.
He pretends not to notice the drops of liquid that slide down to his chest.
"Okay," Sasha says, sitting in front of Mikasa's makeshift vanity looking into the mirror, "So what do you think?"
"I think you're stupid and you should just go for it."
"But Mikasa, he's your ex." Sasha whines, dropping her face into her hands, "It's wrong."
Mikasa lays on her bed, Levi's shirt providing comfort she didn't know she needed.
"Jean and I went out for a week. A week. That hardly counts as anything."
"But—"
"Besides," Mikasa continues, "I cheated on him with Eren." She pauses, and adds as an after thought, "Guess what they say about Karma is true. What goes around come around."
Sasha feels as though she has stepped on a line mine. Mikasa takes note. "It's fine." She says, as if that would fix all the things wrong with the world.
"Sometimes I cry because of you, you know."
Mikasa looks at her with surprise written all over her face.
Sasha stands and throws herself on Mikasa's bed, crawling to bury her face in the crook of Mikasa's neck. "You don't cry for yourself, so I do it for you." She says before Mikasa asks anything. Neither say anything more. And the hours slip by, with nothing more that the slow breathing of two humans.
"Thank you." Mikasa murmurs later, when they're sitting in front of the television watching reruns of their favorite series. "It seems I don't say it enough."
"That's okay." Sasha replies, pulling candies out of her bag and offering one to her dark haired companion, "I know."
Mikasa takes the offered candy and relishes the way it melts in her tongue.
Eren doesn't expect this change. Well, there were many changes he doesn't expect, the color of the walls for example.
He had told Mikasa he was coming to visit and Sasha, Sasha of all fucking people is there, sitting across from him with a evil smile on her face. Well it's not really evil, it's actually normal enough, but there is some type of hostility somewhere on her pretty face. He can't really tell where though.
"Don't worry." Sasha says, as if he had read his mind. "I was just leaving."
At this, she snatches her photography book from his hands and briskly walks out the door. As she passes by however, she accidentally slams the book on the back of his head. She murmurs an apology and he's alone with Mikasa.
Like usual she's preparing dinner.
"You painted the apartment."
She doesn't answer him so he continues, "Why?"
Again, she doesn't answer.
"Your hair is long." He says, and her shoulder's tense. He's cruel, but it doesn't stop him, "You should cut it."
Mikasa continues on with dinner.
He pushes back his chair as he stands and makes his away around the table. He walks up behind her and litters her neck with kisses.
"Eren, don't."
"Why? You don't want this?"
There is no opposition from her part and she lets him lead her into her bedroom.
"You shouldn't be here."
"Why not?" Sasha asks, looking up from her magazine.
"Your showcase is a month away."
"It's okay, Jean's helping me and my teacher too, I can sit back once in a while."
Mikasa lets out a shaky breath. "Levi isn't talking to me."
The brown haired woman eyes the other's cropped hair, "I'm sure he has his reasons."
"Wanna go bungee jumping?" Mikasa asks. "I'll let you take pictures of me this time."
Sasha can't pass up the opportunity. "Lets go," She exclaims, jumping up from the couch as Mikasa retrieves her keys.
If Levi had a say in the way he would fall in love, this wouldn't even have been in his top choices. It wouldn't have been a choice at all, actually.
"Sorry." She murmurs over and over again into the couch cushion. She isn't crying, but her voice is broken enough to let him know that she is being honest.
"That doesn't fix anything." He lets out through gritted teeth. "I should leave you."
Her mantra of 'sorry' stops and the silence is deafening. He sighs.
He thinks about choices, and about Mikasa and this old apartment. He contemplates getting up and leaving and never, ever looking back. He thinks about kissing her and dragging her to her bed room but that would only serve as a reminder that there had been someone else in there a month ago. There are so many things he could do. So many things he should do.
Instead, for the first time in a while, (what is it with this woman an throwing all of his life into disarray) swallows his pride.
"Let's start over." He says.
"What do you mean?"
"We never defined our relationship. I thought we didn't have to." He hears her swallow thickly, "But this time, let's start from the beginning."
"Okay." She says quietly.
"Okay." He repeats. And he doesn't know what to say so he goes with the first thing that comes to his mind. "My name is Levi and I like you. Please consider me as a love interest." It sounds stupid even to his own ears.
There is a pause and for a moment he almost thinks she will say no.
"Okay." She says again.
The deafening silence continues.
"Were are your bedsheets?"
"I threw them away."
The statement is slightly surprising, Mikasa has had those sheets since she left home. Sasha knows.
"Okay." She says resolutely, "Where are your new ones?"
"I haven't bought any yet."
The mattress lays naked with only a blanket hiding it's secrets.
Sasha sighs, "Alright. Let's look for some together." She pulls out her laptop and they proceed to spend the rest of the afternoon shopping online.
Sasha is more than a hundred percent positive Jean will be furious when he realizes that she charged five hundred dollars to his credit card. But as she receives her confirmation e-mail for her shoes and clothes she can't bring herself to care.
As she slips on her shoes she says, "You better come Friday."
"I will." Mikasa says, nodding her head. "Levi and I already made plans for it."
"Good. Because I am so nervous. You have no idea."
"Sasha." Mikasa says as she rests her hand on her shoulder. "You'll do great."
Sasha smiles for more reasons than she can count.
"I win."
"Tch. Only because I let you."
"Of course." She says, and there is a mocking tint to her voice. "Dishes are on you."
"Whatever" He grits, making his way to her kitchen. Mikasa begins picking up the Checker pieces.
When they are together silence is, surprisingly, rare. Mostly because they are always bickering about something or the other. But when it does settle between them it is not awkward. It is not strange or unwelcome. It is peaceful and relaxing.
So they relish in it, taking in it's comfort. Soon he knows, either him or her will say something and the other will disagree and it'll turn into match to see who can one up the other. So far, the matches tally at five Levi, seven Mikasa.
He wants to say that he's let her win, but the woman beats him. Fair and square and it slightly pisses him of.
But the way her eyes light up make up for his wounded pride. And anyway, he likes it when she wins, because that means she can stand toe-to-toe with him.
"By the way," he begins, remembering his conversation with Armin earlier that day, "What do you want for you birthday?"
"Sex." She says without hesitating.
The plate he's holding slips out of his fingers and lands with a clink on the sink.
He turns around to glare at her and she's smiling mischievously. "At least have some shame when you say that."
"What?" She's close to laughing "It's what I want."
He sighs and picks up the plate again. "Well, at least I'll benefit too."
Silence settles and Levi thinks of the necklace he saw her eying the other day.
"An editor from a famous newspaper contacted me the other day."
Mikasa looks up at her from the book she is reading. She smiles, "That's great."
"Isn't it? I was so exited I fell from the bed and Jean had to answer the lady because I was too busy rolling around the floor squealing."
"That sounds exactly like you." Sasha nods her head, as if she was proud.
"What did Jean say?"
Sasha laughs, "He said: This means you can pay me back those five hundred dollars."
The dark haired woman smiled along with Sasha, "And what did you say?"
"I told him it was an early Valentine's gift. He kind of just snorted and went back to sleep."
Sasha likes days like these the most, when it's only Mikasa and her spending the entire day lazing around Mikasa's apartment. These days mean that she gets to spend the night over and they'll eat pizza and watch movies way into the wee hours of the morning. It only happens every other month now that Mikasa is with Levi and she with Jean, so she treasures them more and more every time.
"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to Mikasa, Happy Birthday to you," they sing in a chorus. And Levi thinks this is weirdest bunch to ever come together and sing the birthday song.
A photographer, who has more than one screw loose, he's sure, an ER nurse whom was his girlfriends' ex, and a lawyer, who, he admits, was more than just obsessed with cleaning. They're an odd bunch, but Mikasa is important to them so they kind of just awkwardly stand around the table and sing off key.
It's a day earlier but that's only because Jean works late tomorrow and Sasha has a meeting with her editor and he's planning Mikasa's birthday gift. Which she specifically requested.
It works.
Mikasa smiles with all her teeth showing and they're barely finished when she freely starts laughing. "You guys are idiots."
"Yeah, well," Jean says waving his hand as if trying to dismiss their embarrassment.
"Don't be like that Mikasa. We actually practiced this." Sasha says and both Jean and him shoot her a glare, she only shrugs it off. "It's not our fault none of us can sing."
"Lets just get on with it." He says, trying his best to not let the redness on his neck reach his face. Mikasa takes pity and cuts the cake.
They sit around her table talking about their jobs and Jean tells them about some of the stupidities that make people end up in the ER. From the corner of his eye he observes Mikasa and she's smiling and her shoulders aren't tense. He doesn't really want to tell her that he had contacted Eren but he had refused to come, she's laughing at something Sasha had said and he decides talking about Eren isn't necessary at this point in time. Armin had been by earlier that day, dropping of his present and congratulations and apologizing for not being able to stay.
Mikasa had only smiled and thanked him; telling him not to worry.
The light dims outside and the windows keep out the cold air. Spring is coming.
This time, Eren realizes, the changes are more than just subtle, they're blatantly obvious.
The apartment is bare except for the table and chairs he and Mikasa sit on; for once, she is sitting across from him.
He asks, "Why is this place so empty?"
"I'm moving." She says, "The landlord is selling the property."
He nods his head. "Where are you moving to?"
"I'm moving in with Levi." She says this as if she was coming to some sort of conclusion.
He doesn't like it.
"Your hair is longer." The nonchalant expression on her face doesn't change. "You should cut it."
There is a long silence and then, much to his surprise, she smiles. "No," she says, "I like it long."
please review.
also, i'm sure there are more mistakes in this than i would care to count. but anyway, i hope you enjoyed it.
the tittle was inspired by 'We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live' by Joan Didion. love her work and that title was precious.