disclaimer: nope not mine
A/N: happy eremika week everyone! this is my entry for day one: scarf. kinda tough to write considering i've pretty much exhausted all scarf stories for eremika haha, but I tried.
Eren Jaeger could do many things—crush titans, easily immobilize an opponent in quick grapples, even turn into a titan himself—but he couldn't wrap a scarf.
Mikasa knew this from the very first time they met, when he practically threw the red material haphazardly around her face, not her neck. He'd try to wrap it for her in the days following, when he'd catch her quietly shivering next to him in bed on chilly mornings and quiet evenings. But each time, he'd wrap it so messily that he almost choked her three times— three times!— until she'd finally had enough, gently pushing his fumbling hands away and insisting she could do it herself.
He would huff and look away with a childish pout, mumbling some obscenities under his breath with the occasional glance at her. She didn't mind; she found it cute.
But even now, six years later, this did not change.
"I'll wrap it around you as many times as you want," he declared to her, his eyes teary but determined as he looked down at her, her own pools of liquid ink staring back with amazement, a secret moment of bliss thumping in her chest.
But now, as he tried—and failed—to wrap it around her again, she started to the curse those bold words.
"Eren, I told you, you can't do it like that—"
"Mikasa, I know how to do this, so quit it!"
She rolled her eyes as his calloused fingers continued to fumble around the red material, his eyes focused but frustrated as he tried to make a proper knot. He tried everything but the actual correct way and it was driving her mad.
She suddenly felt a harsh, tight tug on her throat and immediately gagged, her hands quickly moving up to push his away. "Eren, stop!"
Hurt flashed in his deep, green eyes before anger settled in his features. "What the hell's your problem? I'm just trying to help!"
"I know, and I appreciate it, I really do," she amended, pulling the scarf loose around her neck with relief, "but you're not really helping me at all if you can't do it right."
He crossed his arms and looked away, and for a moment, they were back in their Shiganshina home—two young kids trying to mend the broken pieces of her soul together, his small, clumsy fingers tugging and pulling at the long material around her neck as she hid a smile underneath.
"You can just do it yourself then," Eren mumbled, his grumpy voice jolting her back to the present.
She fingered the tattered ends of red, her voice quiet as she questioned, "You're not doing this because you feel like you owe me something, are you?"
His eyes snapped to hers, his brow raised in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Your promise," she clarified, "I don't want you to think you owe me this just because I protected you."
"That's what you're worried about?" he asked incredulously, sighing when she nodded.
"Mikasa, I—" he paused, running a hand through his messy hair, "I'm not doing this out of some stupid obligation for saving my life. I think we got pretty even when I protected you from those titans. I'm doing this because I—I just—I really—" he sighed in frustration, struggling to put his feelings into words, "Fuck, Mikasa, I—I just want to make you happy."
Heat rushed to her cheeks as her heart pounded wildly at his confession. "Really?"
She watched a light pink dust across his cheeks as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Yeah."
She shuffled closer to him on the bed, cautiously leaning in towards him, her hand lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt. She stopped just inches from his lips, whispering, "You make me the happiest, Eren."
She looked down and watched a smile spread across his lips. "I'm glad," he murmured before meeting her halfway, pressing his lips against hers.
It isn't perfect— it's awkward and hesitant at first, their inexperienced lips mashing together clumsily. But when they go back for their second, third kiss— they form a comfortable rhythm, his hand sneaking around her waist as hers cradle his face. Mikasa's mind becomes foggy, wisps of haze escaping her lips each time they separate and come together again—and it when it ends, they're both gasping for air, cheek-flushed and swollen-lipped as they take the other in.
"You're still terrible at wrapping scarves," she whispered cheekily, the white of her teeth biting down a teasing smile.
"Shut up, Mikasa," he groaned, tugging on her scarf to bring her in for another kiss.
A/N: cheesy cheesy cheesy!
Anyways, this entire week I'll be updating every day until friday! Or well, I'll try, haha. when I did grayza week I kinda skipped a day here and there... but this time I'll try to be diligent!
I'm super excited for tommorow's prompt: fight, get ready! :)
