This is me venting my angst ;-;
She knows he doesn't mean to make her cry. Sometimes she just catches him at the wrong moment, oversteps their bounds a little. Of course, he finds her later and they talk, his apologies hidden between explanations and misunderstandings. That's what she could always count on; him coming back at the end of the day not as a soldier with a heavy purpose, but as Eren, who always thinks and acts with his heart. The one she and Armin wove flower crowns with before the fall. Before any of this.
He doesn't seem as solemn as he did when they first resumed their duties, but he isn't overflowing with determination either. She can feel his drive fading, and hers, with it. For different reasons, she thinks, or rather knows. Her stomach hasn't stopped churning since his revelation back when they were behind bars. It's hard not to think about it. He was so strong in her eyes, immortal even. It seemed as though Eren could overcome just about anything. They have evaded so much; she's done her best to protect both of her friends from so much. This, however, is something out of her hands. Something that not even an infinite amount of praying could fix.
By now, they must've noticed how delicate she treats them, going as far as refusing to let them spar. Eren's complaints drown out Armin's reasoning, and she wishes how he could see the severity of their situation, wishes that for once he would take himself into consideration now more than ever. Not just for him, but for her.
Levi thinks she's being too overbearing but she's not sure if he understands. If anyone in the legion could. She can barely look at either of them without seeing an expiration date hanging off them like a tag. Eren more so than Armin.
So when both she and him take supplies in from outside, she always leaves the lighter crates for him, much to his annoyance.
"C'mon, Mikasa. It's okay I can take this one in."
"No."
"I'm completely fine! I can't let you shoulder everything!"
"It's fine."
"Then let me help you with it."
"Eren-"
"It's easier this way. Neither of us are carrying the weight entirely. Just let me help, damn it."
She doesn't want to upset him any further so she silently complies, moving to one side of the crate and he the other.
They lift on his count, walking slowly towards the back door. It is much easier, but her worry heightens as the box shakes with his trembling arms.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. We're almost there." She allows herself to believe him for his sake, adjusting her grip in case he misses a step.
They make it pass the door and inside the old chamber sooner than she expected and they set the crate down, alongside the others. He dusts off his hands and places them on his hips triumphantly.
"See, I told you I could handle it." He grins proudly, but it falters quickly when crimson trickles from his nostril and he swears, the pads of his fingers catching some droplets. Neither of them move for what seems like hours, both of them shocked.
"I-I haven't transformed in - in weeks , how could this…?"
Her fingers reach inside the pocket of her jacket, pinching and pulling out a clean handkerchief. She sits him down on the same box they carried in, quietly cleaning the blood from his upper lip. He stares off, eyes completely empty. The look brings memories unpleasant beyond measure and suddenly, her throat knots. He notices her watching him, scratching the back of his head.
"This is probably nothing, I swear I'm… Mikasa?"
Tears are flowing from her eyes as she cleans him, brushing the cloth against him as if she was polishing thin glass. She hics, loudly enough that it echoes through the cluttered room and she places the cloth in his palm to finish, turning away. It's too hard to look at him, the image alone shattering her heart over again. Her head throbs painfully and she sighs, holding her hand against it. She hadn't cried when she first learned of their eventual demise, but now it seems more real than ever. Sobs and tears spill and she doesn't care that he's right there, but yes she does cause she loves him so much and she's going to lose her world again. And it only continues to mock her strength.
"Mikasa?" She shakes her head vigorously, waving him off but of course, he doesn't play into it. She keeps her eyes averted, looking down with blurred vision at the bloodied handkerchief in his hands. He wraps his fingers around her arms, unsure and hesitant.
"Don't… don't be sad." How can she not be? She is upset and so very terrified to continue on knowing that he and Armin are leaving her behind. They are not to blame, she knows. But she's so hollow and she's aching too much. He pulls her closer, rubbing her back.
"I didn't mean to make you cry."
"Y-you… you didn't, I.. I know. It just - hurts to s-see you like this." Her sentences are shaky, voice absolutely pathetic. She can't do this to him, add unnecessary guilt to the crippling weight on his shoulders.
"I'm sorry - I'm sorry, I'm just - just -" She pulls away, but he keeps her there, arms sturdier than she's ever felt.
"I understand. It's okay." There's nothing else to say. They both know that there is only so much consolation someone can offer. So all she does is just breathe. Breathe in his scent, calm down and remember this. Remember how warm and gentle his embrace has always been, remember how warm and gentle his soul will always be. Remember the depth of his voice and eyes. Remember himand wrap her arms around him with a smile.
