Title—the little things
Pairing—Eren/Mikasa (you already know)
Chapter 1—only fair
Prompt—vacancy
Note: I attempt humor. Emphasis on attempt.
Mikasa couldn't quite bring herself to look at the mouth-sized wound on Eren's forehead.
It probably occurred to her, at some point, that if she just left him the way he is, he'd probably bleed out on the kitchen floor and die with that dumb smile on still on his face.
"Heh…so funny story," he began, scratching anxiously at the side of his cheek, probably wondering if Mikasa was going to buy his bullshit at all, "there was this huuuuuuuuge cart going down the street this morning and…"
His story faded into background noise as Mikasa stared directly at the wound on Eren's forehead, wondering how in this grand scheme of things that somebody like her could be in a situation like this. The one moment she turned away from the one person she was supposed to protect, he wound up with a giant gaping wound in his forehead.
"…and that's how I got this hole," Eren finished, putting out a sheepish grin for good measure (and praying to God he wouldn't get a beating from her).
The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. After all, he was standing in the middle of their kitchen, battered and bruised, with a gaping freaking hole in his head.
No, not just a cut.
A bloody hole.
A bloody hole with half a bandage sticking off the side like he'd actually made some pathetic attempt to cover it up and hide it from her. As if she wouldn't have noticed that goddamn bloody crater sitting behind the bandage in the first place.
"Ne—Mikasa," he said, smiling nervously, "it's not as bad as it seems. Don't worry—"
She slammed the butcher knife, wedging the blade into the cutting board. Eren winced from the sound of the impact.
"—don't worry?" Her voice was hollow, "Are you really telling me not to worry?"
Eren looked unsure, still staring at the butcher knife with the slight relief that the weapon was no longer in Mikasa's hand, "Um…yes?"
A frown formed on her lips and she walked around the center island of the kitchen to where Eren was standing in the doorway. She leaned in to what looked like a kiss—then she paused, her lips an inch away from his. He could feel her hot breath against his face. A shiver shot down his spine.
"Tell me who did this to you," she stated.
Eren forced himself to swallow the lump lodged in his throat, "I can't."
...
...
"Tell me who did this to you," Mikasa repeated again, eyes steely and unwavering, "unless you want that hole to go out the back of your head too."
The following day, Jean Kirstein found himself in the hospital with a shattered ankle, two broken arms, a broken nose and a black eye.
He shouldn't have been surprised.