This is set vaguely post-series, with Eren and Mikasa grown up and married, but with no spoilers (mostly because I disregard a lot of the canon). Originally posted to sneezehq. Enjoy!
After years of waking up early, waking up at dawn is a habit that is deeply ingrained in Mikasa, as natural to her as protecting Eren. She stirs as the first rays of the sun trickle through the curtains, instantly alert as soon as she opens her eyes. Beside her, Eren sleeps soundly, burrowed deep under the covers.
She smiles fondly at his peaceful expression, kissing his forehead and brushing a lock of hair out of his face. Eren's lips twitch up slightly, but he doesn't wake up. Mikasa reluctantly pushes back the covers, padding silently out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Eren always sleeps in later than she does; he'd never been overly fond of the training schedule, even when he achieved his dream of being in the survey corps.
She busies herself in the kitchen, boiling the water for coffee. It always takes Eren a while to shake off his grogginess in the morning-a cup of coffee can help with that. When the coffee is ready, she pours herself a cup and watches the sun rise, casually reading from a book that Armin lent her. It's hard to believe that she can be this relaxed, that the morning is this peaceful; the titans just a bad memory, a nightmare banished by the early morning light.
For a long time as a child, after her parents were killed, Mikasa had thought that she would never be at peace again.
Speaking of peace, Eren is still asleep when she returns to the bedroom to get dressed. She considers the contents of her closet-it still surprises her that she actually has different opinions of clothing now-and selects a loose-fitting dress that reminds her of what her mother used to wear.
Eren is still asleep when she finishes getting ready, and Mikasa snags her book from the kitchen and joins him once again in the bed. The bright light streaming through the curtains is more than enough to read by. A ray of sun shines directly in Eren's face, and he stirs slightly, grumbling in his sleep. He mumbles something unintelligible into his pillow before finally opening his eyes.
Slivers of bright green meet wide-awake grey. "Morning," Eren says hoarsely.
"Good morning," Mikasa replies, frowning. "Did you sleep well?"
Eren shakes his head, yawning blearily. "Not really," he mumbles. "I'm still tired." Fully awake, Eren would never admit to any of this, but he tends to be a lot more honest when he's still half asleep.
Mikasa has known Eren long enough to know that his colds or any other illnesses always start off with a rough voice and fatigue. She presses a gentle hand to his cheek, then moving it to his forehead for confirmation. Yep, just as she suspected. She'd thought his forehead felt warmer than usual earlier. "You're running a fever."
"Oh," Eren says, blinking in confusion. He doesn't really seem to understand what she's saying. "Don't we have to train today?" he mumbles, trying to sit up. The effort only succeeds in sending him plummeting into a coughing fit. "Don't want to disappoint Captain Levi," he finishes when he catches his breath again.
"No, there's no training today." Mikasa presses him back to the bed, gently, propping the pillows behind him so he can sit up a little. Eren's illnesses are always quick-onset and take a lot out of him; possibly a trade-off with his otherwise advanced healing abilities. "You're sick and you're going to rest, okay? I'll make you porridge like your mom used to make."
Green eyes look at her stubbornly for a moment before relenting. "Alright," Eren agrees, the fever making him much more pliable and docile. Although Eren's infamous anger had been somewhat tempered by age and his victory over the titans, he definitely was never going to be the calm type. But that's alright.
Mikasa would miss his spirit too much.
Before making breakfast, she makes a quick detour to the bathroom, where she wets a washcloth that she brings to Eren, gently placing it to his forehead. He complains at the chilly sensation and clutches the blankets closer, but doesn't throw it off.
The grumbling lessens the tension bubbling in her gut. If Eren still feels up to complaining, then he can't be too bad off. "Try to get some rest," she instructs, squeezing his hand.
Upon returning to the kitchen, Mikasa forces herself to focus on making the porridge. The thought of sickness still sends a chill down her spine, stirs memories of epidemics and huddling together for warmth in the midst of the bitterly cold winter.
Things are different now, Mikasa reminds herself. They're safe from the titans, no longer in the military, no longer starving on the streets. And this is just a cold; it'll soon pass.
Eren is going to be just fine.
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