Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her finger thrummed on the cool wooden surface in harmony with the soft tapping of rain somewhere above her. Its rhythm was easy to remember; three taps, two taps, one tap, and two taps, therefore Mikasa found herself perfectly synchronised with the raindrops by the time the raindrops' cycle started for the third time. At first she counted how many times the loop restarted, but after approximately the fiftieth time, she gave up.
Tap. Tap.
Absently, the fingers of her left hand traced shapes, twists and letters on the table, gradually becoming slower and slower as her arm became stiff, her hand along with it. Her head, which was currently resting on said arm, slipped off onto the table, giving way for unpleasant tingles to spread from her shoulder.
Tap.
The miniscule amount of light projected by the candle flickered on the walls and ceiling, engaging in a complex dance with the shadows; a fight for power, a battle for dominance. However, if you observed the lights and shadows' conflict enough - and Mikasa did - you could start to see the situation in a completely different way. Because what if light and dark weren't eternal enemies?
Tap. Tap.
What if the darkness simply craved the light's warmth, like everyone else did? Or better yet, what if light and darkness were forbidden lovers, cursed to labour side by side forever, constantly touching, but never actually together? Of course, in the cruel world Mikasa lived in, such thinking would lead her to certain death. In this world, you couldn't escape into the light and be safe; both light and dark have proven themselves to be equally dangerous and horrifying.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mikasa had experienced the betrayal of light first hand, a betrayal that still tormented her unconscious mind years after it had transpired. Momentarily, her gaze travelled from the flame and to the knife beside her, menacing images of her parents' lifeless bodies residing in their own blood flooded her brain. Her gaze returned to the candle, the skin on her neck prickling and her heart beating at an alarming speed. Yes, this was a cruel world, and nobody, not even someone as stoic as Mikasa could escape from their night terrors, regardless of whether darkness or light clouded the earth.
Tap. Tap.
The door beside Mikasa creaked, announcing the arrival of another person. Her body tensed up, panic scratching at every part of her body. The knowledge that it was probably just another member of the Survey Corps did nothing to soothe her. She fixed her gaze on the candle firmly, not daring to look up. She curled her fingers around the hilt of her knife, the tapping of the rain completely forgotten by her. A circle of light no bigger than hers illuminated the spacious lunch hall partially as the unknown figure took three steps into the room. Mikasa's heart beat furiously, giving her the impression that it was trying to escape her chest.
"Mikasa?"
Mikasa recognised the owner of the voice instantly. She lifted her head slowly, nothing about her facial expression or body movements betraying the plethora of emotions that were coursing through her.
"Eren."
The light from Eren's candle covered his face somewhat, but Mikasa could see enough of it determine that he was still furious. The infinitesimal amount of relief she felt upon his entrance dissipated instantly.
"You're still angry." Mikasa stated as Eren moved to stand opposite her. Ignoring her question, he placed his candle on the table and sat down, intertwining his hands on the surface inches away from Mikasa's and bowing his head.
"Listen Eren, I'm sorry, I should-" Mikasa started after taking a deep breath, but was promptly cut off by the fuming boy opposite her.
"I'm not angry about that!" Eren exclaimed, his head shooting up abruptly. Mikasa blinked in surprise. She was expecting an outburst, but she was in no way expecting for Eren to just shrug off their argument so quickly and easily.
"You haven't been sleeping." Eren muttered, his eyes glued to her face.
Guilt filled her instantly, and she wanted argue that no, she was alright, that she has been sleeping fine every night, but when her eyes met his accidentally, she couldn't bring herself to lie. "Yes."
"What the hell, Mikasa?!" Eren demanded, slamming his hands on the table. "Don't you know how bad it is for you not to sleep, especially in the Survey Corps?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
Mikasa flinched, and for a while she did nothing but stare at Eren. Of course she wasn't trying to get herself killed, knowing what that would mean! She had been desperate for a proper night of dreamless sleep for days, but whenever she closed her eyes all she saw was her parents dying over and over. Sometimes, her mind even created images of Eren and Armin being murdered in grotesque ways to torment her, but she couldn't say any of this to Eren, because if she did it would make him worry, and the last thing she needed was for someone else's performance against the titans to be affected by concern about her well being. She couldn't let Eren die because of her. She felt the threatening stinging of tears. She looked down rapidly and whispered: "No, of course not."
"Then what are you doing?!" Eren demanded, jumping up from his seat. His words remained unanswered, lingering in the air around them, like they both already knew the answer. The flames of the candles swayed in the wind produced by Eren's sudden movement.
"Mikasa." He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're always the one insisting on protecting me and keeping me safe, but you can't even keep yourself safe and healthy!"
"So you are still angry about that!" Mikasa exclaimed, her voice wavering slightly on the last syllable.
"What? No Mikasa, I'm not-" Eren broke off, Mikasa's state of despair only just registering on him. His hand let go of his hair and fell limply at his side. "Mikasa?" he questioned, his voice lacking its previous annoyance considerably. Upon not receiving an answer, Eren moved around the table to sit next to Mikasa.
Mikasa's heart rate picked up noticeably when Eren sat down next to her. He tried to grab her attention multiple times, repeating her name and shaking her shoulder a couple times, but Mikasa refused to look at him. Finally, she gave in when he grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him.
Mikasa was pale, very pale, and looked like she might collapse at any moment. Her eyes swam with unshed tears that she was desperately trying to keep in. Her chin was quivering, and her breathing was unsettled. Eren's eyes widened. He hadn't seen her like this since… since…
He dropped her chin unexpectedly. "You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" Eren muttered in an accusing tone. Mikasa didn't answer, but her silence was enough to answer his question. He nodded curtly and moved his eyes to rest on twisting shadows that decorated the walls.
After a few minutes of unbearable silence, Mikasa whispered: "E-Eren?" He didn't acknowledge her. "Eren I...I'm sorry, I-"
"No." Eren cut her off firmly, returning his gaze to her. Abruptly, he grabbed her hands and interlaced them with his on the bench between them. "You have nothing to apologise for."
"Yes, I do." Mikasa choked out, a single tear leaking from her eye. "You… you…" Mikasa swallowed audibly, squeezing her eyes shut. "You died and I couldn't…" Mikasa's face twisted in agony as she broke down into uncontrollable sobs. Eren sighed and gathered the hysterical girl into his arms.
"Mikasa… Mikasa, it's not your fault." Eren murmured into Mikasa's ear in a soothing tone, running his fingers through her hair. "They're just dreams." And for some reason, Mikasa believed him.
They stayed like that for minutes, or hours, either way they didn't really care. Eren continued whispering into her ear and Mikasa, although she was reluctant to admit it, was comforted by his words, and eventually they fell asleep like that. It was Armin who found them like that in the morning, but he was not the one that woke them up. He simply blew out the remaining candle and slipped out of the lunch hall as if he was never there. They were in fact woken up by the one and only Jean Kirschtein, who let out an infuriated screech upon finding them entangled in each others arms, on his favourite bench no less.