prompt: characters haven't seen each other in two months.

pairing: Eren/Mikasa

rating: K+

summary: It's been two months since she had been gone. Small talks being exchanged.

misc: I don't know what even is this. Word vomit, again. Sorry. 8'D


His tan-colored hands gripped the phone tightly as though it was his string to keep him alive.

Two months. Two months after the event that he attended that changed the paths of their lives, he didn't know whether he should be happy or not. She wasn't by his side anymore and he was quite relieved to be honest, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of devastation as if slicing his throat whenever he remembers the small things that would keep him in reminding about her-the ladies with soft dark strands just like hers in the coffee shop he visits after his work in the office, the strawberries in the fridge which were her favorite when she lived with him when they were in their younger days, the sweet mellow music that his radio plays in the morning that she would sing to him as a lullaby when he is sick and he needs some company.

It was as if memories of her came flooding his brain just when it was too late. He was selfish as a man but if it means to make her happy, he would do it.

"Hello?" Voice rusty, hesitation within. Picking up the phone, he responded, "Mikasa?"

"Eren!" a soft voice laced with sugar spoke in the other line and he could feel the smile that was creeping up her lips.

The smile that would pull his heartstrings that were broken which were hiding beneath his rib cage-a radiance that one would make anyone's breath hitch. "How are you doing? Have you been eating well?"

He rolls his eyes, "Yes, I am, Mom." He was joking and he knew she knows that when he heard her chuckling to herself. A shifting of papers and blurred voices were heard in the other line (drawings of dresses and gowns perhaps, or orders of her designs from other countries and people she was working with) and he resists the jealousy that she was giving more time to her own family-not him, whom she called "family" for the past fifteen years of their lives ever since he had met her. Nonetheless, he was also in deep joy when he realized that she was still overprotective of him just like a mother hen would.

"I was kidding, alright? I have not been with you for months. Oh, and Eren?"

"Hm?"

"I was wondering if it is okay if I visit there this Saturday? I-"

"-Of course!" His immediate reply surprised her and even the speaker himself, "I mean, yes. Why not? It's also your house, after all."

She hums endearingly and he wonders if she always do that for the past two months with her new home. If he could turn back in time, then maybe-maybe, he would be the one who would always listen to the soft murmurs and songs that would elicit from her soft pink lips in every morning together with that warm aura of hers that reminds him of home.

But it was too late because he saw the diamond ring that hugged her finger that Sasha admired on her birthday party with that rare smile that she only used when she was overjoyed. It was too late, he repeats, because he saw the woman he never thought he would fall for wore the dress that a bride only should. It was too late because he heard the wedding bells and the 'I do's.

She jokes, "Okay, then. I will be checking the things out if you have been cleaning while I was gone."

"Please," he rolls his eyes as he replies, "I always do. It was your very own husband who even scolded me to do that, after all."

She giggles and he noted how she had been smiling (and probably giggling) a lot. He shifts to his seat for a more comfortable position and bites his lower lip to stop the tears from flowing from his evergreen eyes because he recalls that when she was with him, only tears of heartache and the fists of anguish against her heart were the only features of hers he could see when his orbs lock with her ashen ones and his mind will be clouded with rage.

He forces a smile because of course, he does clean.

"He told you? When?"

"Uh… After your engagement, I think? When he came to our house for a visit?" It was hard to think about, really. When he does think about the past, all the things that would pop out from his mind will be the word of regret.

"Funny. He never told me," she chimes sarcastically and he could sense the glare she gives through her tone. She does that even though those death glares won't work to her husband. Immunity, he guessed, since the two had been together for months now.

He laughs and he was thankful that they were not cracked much like his heart.

"Seems that you had a lot of free time today," he acknowledges, finding the ceiling more interesting than the other things inside his room.

"Actually, it's because I finished all the requirements so I could visit you even just for a day. You do know how hectic my schedule is."

His face softens after hearing her explanation. If only she could see this, he thinks but that can only wait.

His sight shifts towards the ring that innocently sits on his table, still in its pretty little heart-shaped box which was colored green (it was red at first, but then changed it after asking her once on what was her favorite color), sparkling against the light as if persuading him to at least say his real feelings. But he didn't.

He bought the said ring with the help of Armin and Annie (since the two were a engaged, maybe they had a good taste in choosing a ring and well, they do) over a year ago after hearing that she will be going back from studying as a fashion designer abroad. Truth to be told, he was even the one at fault that she had left him-the broken sobs and the lump in his throat as she packed her things and the declaration of her moving to France to study and improve her career (it was Connie who had told him, practically whining against the phone and requesting him to follow her to the airport and stop her from leaving, but with his cold heart, he didn't). Of course, these were only excuses so that she can cover the scars in her heart that he had caused.

When she came back, he thought maybe he could pick up the fragments that he had created; arranging a dinner so that he could have a conversation and give a proper apology. He did and as always, she forgave him and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened between them. But her phone rang and excused herself, saying it was urgent and she had to come back to work because her 'short-and-blunt' boss is calling her so his plan had failed, leaving him wrecked together with the ring that was in her wine because he was thinking of surprising her when she drinks it.

He even imagined his expectations from her-the astonishment, the twinkling of her eyes, the happiest smile that he had ever seen-nothing.

And then the birthday party happened, and he realized that if he had only done it earlier, then he will be the one who could proudly say that he was the one who proposed to her and the wedding will only be in a few months latter.

"Thanks, Mikasa," his fists clench his bed sheet, "I miss you, too."

And he lets the first tear fall.