Hair
One
Mikasa stares blankly at her right arm, a small sigh escaping her lips. She wouldn't be able to fight like this. She was more so worried about how this would make protecting Eren harder, but she also knows that stressing herself out over it wouldn't help anything.
Plus, Rivaille could. Mikasa knows that much. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but she'd started to trust him. Somewhere along the line they'd gotten close. Closer than she should be with a superior. She hadn't really let herself think about what would happen if what had gone down between them behind closed doors was found out and she'd rather not know.
Rivaille had said something about it when this had all first started. Neither of them had brought it up since.
She glances out the window. There isn't much of a sight besides trees, but it was better than staring at a wall.
Her attention is drawn to the other side of the room when the door creaks open. Rivaille closes it softly behind himself. He makes his way to her bed, brushes off the imaginary dust, and sits down. The silence lasts for a minute.
Mikasa was the one who breaks it, though not with words. She simply leans her head onto his shoulder and lets out another sigh.
He sighs in return, kissing the top of her head.
It had taken Mikasa a while to get used to seeing a more human side of him. Not very many people saw the side of Rivaille that had emotions beyond the small twitch of his lips. She wondered if that had to do with his childhood and how he'd grown up, or if it had happened since he's become a soldier.
His voice pulls her from her thoughts. "Are you in any pain?"
"No."
"Good." He runs his fingers through her hair, making an unsatisfied noise.
"What?"
"Your right hand is your dominant hand, isn't it?"
"You of all people should know that, Corporal."
He wants to go along with it, but he knows he doesn't have the time. "Your hair is a mess. You haven't been able to properly brush it."
"It's harder to get out knots."
He makes a noise that's somewhere between his usual 'tch' and a disgusted groan. Unsatisfied noises aside, he begins to gently tug his fingers through her hair. Despite the knots, her hair was still incredibly silky. He would never admit it, but he loved her hair. Adored it, really.
Several of the nights they'd spent together she'd woken up to him playing with it. His expression was always one that portrayed an odd curiosity. Mikasa was used to it; most people had never seen anyone else with hair like her's before.
She closes her eyes and doesn't protest as he works out the knots. In no time he could easily run his fingers through it again.
He continues to play with her hair for a while before finally grabbing her chin and moving her head so they're face to face. The kiss was short, but neither moves back quickly afterwards. "I have to go," he mumbles against her lips.
"Go, then. I'm fine."
And then he was moving and out the door. Mikasa stared after him for a moment. She falls back on the bed, a third sigh leaving her lips. This time, it's out of frustration that she can't do anything.
If there's any mistakes, I'm sorry. I went through it a few times, but I might not have caught everything. And I'm sorry it's so terrible, I'm not comfortable writing any of the SNK characters yet so it's hard to get anything with them in it out properly. I think this will be a few chapters, but I'm not sure. We'll see, I guess? Thanks for reading!