Many thanks to osravis, missanimekiss, guest (1), guest (2), monkey magic, guest (3), guest (4), dangeruss12 and oswaldrabbit2 for leaving reviews in chapter 16! This chapter is dedicated to you for taking your time to kindly give me feedback. Also, please guys, write some username when writing the guest reviews so I can properly thank you, lol, the guest + number thing is so sjfdslk

As always, special thanks to beautiful Selena (kaekiro) for looking over the Engrish chapter :*

LAWLESS


Chapter 17. Improper


The servant led them to one of the empty rooms on the first floor, close to the hall where the boring soiree of the richmen was taking place. The man turned on the light for them and Eren gave him a curt thanks shortly before he closed the door to provide them privacy. Mikasa made a quick check of the place and hurried to close the curtains of the two tall and narrow windows that faced the street, between which was a bed. She turned and walked over to Eren glancing at the floor.

Eren hadn't taken more than a couple of steps into the room, standing still deep in thought with his sight fixed on her.

"How's it that only now we come to find out what happened in Trost?" Mikasa hugged herself and squeezed her arms, as the servants received their coats when they entered the house and the room wasn't warm. "I don't like to admit this, but the old woman is right. We should read the damn newspapers..." she shook her head, discarding what she had just said, "I'm the one who should read them, it's part of my job to be aware of those situations. It's my fault we didn't know about it before."

"So, in addition to having to be with me day and night, looking after my safety, you have to find out what's happening in this whole damn kingdom?" Eren asked.

"I should. Yes."

Eren glanced at the door and, taking Mikasa by the elbow, led her to the bed where they both sat.

"Oh. And that's something else I should've done, but it occurred to you before me," she complained, tapping her forehead with her fingers. "It's embarrassing. Levi would scold me for being careless, and rightly so."

At the foot of the bed was a woolen blanket. Mikasa took it and put it on her shoulders with a disappointed demeanor. She felt like a rookie, making one small but significant mistake after another that could, in the long run, risk them being caught in their farce and everything else. She had to try harder. Work harder. She couldn't allow herself to be so distracted by emotions related to her past and neither with her present.

"Do you want the other end?" She asked Eren, handing him the blanket.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said with a wave of his hand. He seemed a bit distant, "and hey, you don't need to blame yourself for details like that. We're both in on this. I also have to do my part and be attentive to certain things, such as preventing a snooper near the door from hearing us."

"No, Eren. That last thing you said is my responsibility. Yours is to keep visiting your patients and, at the most, try to fake our thing. With that you have enough work."

"The way I see it we have a shared responsibility and, let's be frank, I sadly know these people much better than you do. I know they love gossip and revelations as much as money. I suppose it's for that simple reason I was the one who reacted before you did, and that's it," he insisted, stubborn and in a tone that didn't admit a reply. Then his expression softened slightly and he looked at her with concern. "The blonde police officer from Trost... she works with you, right? Is she your friend?"

Mikasa looked down at her lap. Her purple dress seemed almost black.

"Annie is kind of like… a freelance contributor. She doesn't work for Kenny like the rest of his men and… she's not my friend either," she paused, thinking about the rare occasions when they trained together. "We barely spoke. She was only part of my training plan for a while."

Mikasa met Annie Leonhardt almost four years ago, a few months before her fifteenth birthday, and they always exchanged more blows and pissed off stares than words. In fact they got along horrible at first, but it was Annie's fault. After that without further ado Kenny introduced them in the lair's training room, Annie barely greeted her. She just gave a distant nod, as if she didn't even acknowledge Mikasa's presence, and that was it. Mikasa had been expectantly looking forward to that day. Her uncle had never brought a woman for her to train in hand-to-hand combat, so the girl's unfriendly attitude confused, disappointed and irritated her. Then, she found nothing better than to ask Kenny in a bored tone:

"Are you sure this one's eighteen? She's too short and seems younger than me. I don't wanna hurt little girls. Or worse, some girl with serious growth issues."

Her words had a quick repercussion that, in a matter of seconds, led her to find herself on her back on the ground. Half of the air in her lungs was expelled upon impact. All she managed to do, as a learned reflex, was to press her chin to the gap between her clavicles to avoid hitting her head. Annie's icy eyes threw daggers at hers, wide open at the sudden movement, while she could hear Kenny's mocking laugh in the background.

"I told this serial killer, your uncle, that it isn't my thing to beat dumb little girls, but I just added you to my list of exceptions," her dispassionate voice combined perfectly with her insipid expression. Annie immobilized Mikasa in a way that she didn't quite understand in the middle of her surprise. "I accept the deal," Annie said, shaking off of her.

And that's how both girls trained once a week for the first few months, then they only saw each other once a month and, in the end, every two months in a deal that lasted less than a year and a half. Annie turned out to be an excellent rival and teacher, until she stepped aside and devoted to her ironic job as a police officer. During the time the training lasted, little by little they managed to get along as best as they could. There were times when they ate together and it was on breaks like that, away from the usual thrashings, where Mikasa discovered that in addition to sharing a taste for sweet things, she and Annie shared a similar introverted and reserved nature. Long silences and concise conversations about whatever they thought necessary, without pressuring each other to talk too much, somehow helped build respect and a certain appreciation for their counterpart. At the same time, there was always some sort of wall between them. Neither seemed to trust the other completely, something Mikasa tried not to think about too much since basic mistrust was expected among lawbreakers. It was even more than expected if one of them was dedicated to applying that same law, regardless of whether they used to twist it for their own convenience.

Annie was far from being her favorite person and she couldn't call her friend in the strict sense of the word, however, that didn't stop Mikasa from wondering what the status of the police officer was after what happened in Trost. Was she hurt? And if she was, were these serious injuries? Hopefully not. The day Mikasa saw that woman again, her lazy and unsympathetic face had better retain that big nose of hers.

As minimal as it was, Kenny must have had some degree of respect or appreciation for Annie as well, so the alleged Legion attack on the Trost station, of all the other stations in Paradis, didn't make much sense to her. Why would her uncle agree to risk the life of a collaborator who had proven herself so useful? Unless Kenny had no say in the attack, or Annie wasn't on duty that night at the station... Or that she was a traitor that Kenny, in conjunction with the Legion, was seeking to get out of the way. But the sudden, impersonal explosions weren't the Ackerman style. When it came to getting rid of a bad item, the Ackermans used their own hands. It comprised one of the favorite actions of the madman that thousands of people once referred to as "The Ripper."

"One of my professors at the university is a member of the Legion." Eren said the name of the rebel group in a lower volume. His body was leaning forward and resting his forearms on his legs. "She's one of the strangest people I've met in my life, but... she doesn't seem to me like the type of person capable of murdering others. I've never liked the police and maybe neither did she, and even if she loathed them, I don't see her going to the extreme of blowing up a police station where there are still policemen inside. If it was empty, maybe she would... Anyway, who the hell knows?" He blurted out, somewhat exasperated. "It isn't that I could imagine her being part of a small group that I thought didn't even exist."

Mikasa met Hange Zoe after rescuing the girls hidden in the cold meat cart and, to tell the truth, she had no idea if she struck up a conversation with her. Back then, her head was spinning a thousand times and her emotional state had been quite precarious.

"I've seen your professor only once and I hardly remember her. I don't know what to assume or not about her," she muttered in a calm tone. "What I don't understand is why Kenny would allow them to put Annie in danger... If Annie were a traitor, Kenny would take the time to take her down himself. Preferably with a knife."

Eren straightened up and glanced at her with his eyebrows knitted.

"True. Kenny wouldn't have to expose and risk crippling or losing one of his corrupt policemen," he nodded, thoughtful. "That Annie isn't among the dead in the attack was a matter of luck. Kenny would make sure that such a valuable snitch had no chance to survive or time to escape. And yes, I'm aware of how much your crazy uncle loves his knives… By allying himself with the Legion, he had to have made a kind of deal so that his people would gain immunity and not be exposed to those situations, including that girl."

"Unless, I don't know, he never told them about Annie."

"Or that he would have told them and the Legion didn't care, but I don't think so. As well as in any case I doubt that my professor would agree to blow up buildings with alive people inside, even if, hypothetically speaking, she hated the police because almost all of them are bribable. Add to that the fact that an explosion can injure or kill anyone passing by, and the Legion must need civilians on their side, not against them, right?"

Mikasa nodded, thinking about the comments she had heard from the richmen tonight and how the newspapers had quickly come to the conclusion that the Legion was responsible for the attack, targeting them as the villains of the whole thing.

"It seems that they became the perfect scapegoat, the most convenient for the fucking monarchy and the nobles," Eren said between clenched teeth, turning his hands into a fist. "It wouldn't even be the first time they kill someone to keep their damn secrets hidden or to divert attention."

Eren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and clasping his hands, pressing them against his forehead. He closed his eyes as if he were concentrating, or trying to calm himself so as not to allow anger and whatever else he was feeling to overtake him. Mikasa associated his words and reaction to what happened to his father, Dr. Grisha. Perhaps Eren also found himself thinking about the Frieda Reiss enigma, another of the issues she remembered affected him. Reluctant, she put a hand on his hunched back. After a while, Eren let out a loud breath and muttered unintelligible things, but it wasn't hard to guess it must be a string of insults. She could hear the king's name in between.

"We should get out of here," Mikasa began saying softly. She dragged her hand to Eren's shoulder and gave him a little squeeze. "Let's go back to the hotel… You can have a little peace there, away from these people."

His response consisted of a weary grunt and, as if he had only just realized it, he gazed at the hand Mikasa kept on his shoulder and then at her. The girl apologized and drew her hand back, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Eren's frown deepened.

"If you removed your hand thinking it bothered me or something, it's not like that."

"But it seemed as if..." she said, confused. "It gave the impression that you didn't want to be touched. Your expression..."

Eren raised his eyebrows ever so little.

"Ah... Well yeah, I am upset, but it wasn't my intention for you to think that I'm also angry with you. I'm sorry," after a short pause he glanced away, massaged the back of his neck and added in a low voice. "I don't mind you touching me, Mikasa... I mean, it isn't something that displeases me or makes me angry. No way."

Mikasa tried to maintain a neutral expression, although the fidgeting of her fingers on the fabric of her dress gave away she was nervous. She repeated in her mind that Eren's words had no double meaning. That she was the one embroiling things.

"Before we go, I want to piss off the bunch of rich assholes out here," Eren said suddenly. "These fools love gossip and at the same time they hate that certain... affairs happen under their own roofs or in their presence, especially the old geezers. And here it's full of old men. They get scandalized and see it as disrespectful, which would be the point... But first I have to know if you would be willing to help me with this idea, because it won't work if I do it by myself and if it doesn't seem like you were part of it and... well, it would look weird."

"What idea?" Mikasa asked, even though she was starting to imagine what could offend a lot of old people and that he needed her to take part in. While it would only be a simulation, she felt her entire face colored at the prospect. "W-what do you plan on us to do to scandalize them?"

Eren took a few seconds to formulate his answer.

"To pretend that we really are the improper young couple who ran away from the last Royal Ball. If you agree... of course. You aren't obligated to do anything you don't want to do."

He seemed somewhat awkward at his own suggestion. As soon as Mikasa agreed, he climbed onto the bed, which creaked under his weight and continued to creak as he stood on top of the mattress, not caring about dirtying the pastel-colored coverlet with the soles of his polished shoes. He held out a hand towards her, calling out to her with a malicious smirk that sped up her heart rate. Despite his elegant attire and serious adult bearing, Eren now looked as a complete troublemaker, like a handsome teenage thug disguised as a rich man to commit his misdeeds. This made him more similar to the unruly, irresponsible and difficult boy she imagined when hearing the adventures of the past told by Armin. Mikasa took his hand without thinking twice and, holding back a nervous giggle, climbed onto the bed as well. Not knowing what to do, she stood like a fool until Eren began to jump and the surface of the mattress became unstable, forcing her to jump with him to keep from falling.

The bed frame creaked as if it were about to break, with just that the plan already seemed to be going like a thousand wonders, while the metal box frame under the mattress also squealed excessively. Eren made gestures for her not to laugh but, jumping on a bed like a pair of restless children in order to simulate a sexual encounter, seemed too ridiculous and hilarious to her. She had to cover her mouth with her hands. It was then when Eren started to let out some weird moans mentioning her false name, and Mikasa was no longer able to contain the burst of laughter that escaped her between jumps. Eren had to rush to cover her mouth as he insisted for her to "shh, shh!", unable to avoid his own laughter. Soon Mikasa felt a tug at the bottom of her dress that made her lose her balance. Eren tried to grab her, not realizing he was the one stepping on her clothes. The fabric of the dress ripped and she accidentally pushed him. She made one last attempt to balance herself on the unstable surface, but the task was made quite difficult by wearing her boots. They fell clinging to each other on the edge of the mattress and, at the same time, there was a loud crack of one of the stringers breaking under the combined weight of both of them. The mattress went down to the floor. Eren and Mikasa slid sideways on the carpet and, without bumps or pain, rolled a few times before coming to a stop.

They exchanged a stunned look. They took a glance at the bed and turned to glance at each other again, until they were fully aware that they were very close together and in a rather compromising position. Eren had ended up on top of Mikasa, his chin just inches from her cleavage. His breathing tickled her collarbone and the base of her neck. His perfume dazed her. She felt Eren's arms trapped under her back and head, which he had apparently been trying to protect, and most of Eren's weight was concentrated on her stomach and between her legs. Mikasa put one foot on the ground. Her bent left leg stuck out through the opening of the torn dress, exposing her entire thigh, the garters that held her black stockings and the sheath where she hid a small knife. Carefully and silently, Eren removed his hand from behind her head and leaned it to the side, separating himself a few inches from her. Mikasa arched her back so that it was easier for him to move his other arm and free himself.

Together they rose to their feet. Eren asked her if something hurt and she asked him the same. Neither of them were hurt at all. They avoided each other's gazes. Mikasa checked the condition of her dress, which had been torn horizontally at the height of her knee. Eren inspected the condition of the bed and gave the broken stringer a loose kick.

"In the end this turned out better than I expected," he said with his back to her. "Except for the dress. Sorry."

Mikasa smiled good-naturedly, even though she found it a pity that Eren's gift hadn't lasted a day.

"It's okay, I guess... At least it makes everything seem more improper."

Mikasa realized that, considering the mess they had left in the room, her looks and Eren's didn't complete the look of a couple who had just had an exaggerated romp as they had made it seem. She removed the silver flower, untied her hair from the bun and shook it out. Approaching a confused Eren, she ruffled his hair and, somewhat timid, stammered at him to unbutton the first three buttons on his shirt, which he did as soon as he understood why. Meanwhile, Mikasa searched for the small lipstick she had tucked into the crease of one of her sleeves.

Puzzled, Eren scowled at the lipstick, yet made no objection as she began to leave dark pink spots on his shirt, upper chest, and then on his neck. Mikasa noticed his Adam's apple rose and fell the moment she began to smudge the color over the skin of his throat with her fingers. Her own breathing was shallow due to the closeness and contact. If she had been so emboldened to do something like that, it was because she really wanted to help Eren's plan to succeed. Their eyes met after Mikasa left a stain on his cheek and spread it with the tip of a trembling finger. She tried not to shy away from the intensity of his gaze, and would have established a personal achievement had it not been for Eren's sweeping eyes drifting and thorough lowering to somewhere under her nose. Mikasa held her breath as she felt his hand on the edge of her jaw, and her heart thumped in her chest as he passed a slow, delicate thumb across her lips, sliding it over her skin past the corners. He caught her gaze again. His fiery eyes told her he longed for something more, but Mikasa was unable to sustain that exchange. She lowered her head, blushing to her ears.

There was a sizzling and tense silence between the thick and short distance that separated them.

"Can I borrow your lipstick?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Before setting foot in the room, all the curious and disapproving glares were on Eren and Mikasa. The host, this Axel guy, was red with what must have been a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and anger at such an offense which had supposedly taken place under his own roof. The old woman to whom Eren hadn't even asked her name, the petulant one who behaved as if she was royalty, pursed her lips in a disgusted grimace that focused on Mikasa, something he didn't like at all. Murmurs and an isolated giggle here and there could be heard. Following the orders of the master's butler, a servant rushed to take and put their coats on them before they even reached the entrance, in an effort to cover the indecency that their images exuded openly and in the eyesight of the guests.

"For the inconvenience for the cleaners," Eren muttered to the young servant, sneaking some folded bills into the front pocket of his uniform.

The servant gave a discreet nod and threw a silly look at Eren's mouth, sloppily stained with Mikasa's lipstick and then at her, before stepping forward to ease their way out.

"Eren Jaeger," Axel said in a contemptuous tone. He had come up to them with an indignant demeanor. "Please leave my property at this precise moment with your... girlfriend."

"We're on it, Mr. Alex, but we need transportation. Ask for one of your carriages to get ready for us, if you were so kind," he said with a stilted smile and cold gaze, stretched out to his full height. "You don't want a subject of the king as important as me to walk away this late at night in the company of his young and fragile lady, aware that terrorists are on the loose."

"My name is Axel, not Alex. Axel von Bassermann-Jordan."

"Sure, sir. I will speak highly of you to the king when it's my turn to see him in the next few days."

Alex von-whatever-it-is agreed with measured reluctance to his request, after all he wanted them out and far away as soon as possible, as if they were the incarnate plague. A few minutes before the transport stopped in front of them, a woman with lush, light wavy hair appeared on the porch, lit a cigarette and walked to stand under the lamppost's illumination beside them in the street. With a carefree smile and an insightful glance, she introduced herself as Carly Stratmann. She was the daughter of Elliot Stratmann, a businessman from the area whom Eren didn't personally know as he wasn't associated with the nobility and because he had never required his medical services. After a brief dialogue in which she thanked them for turning that night into something interesting, the woman handed Mikasa a piece of paper on which a fast-written address could be read.

"It's an invitation for this Saturday," Carly said and, finishing off her cigarette before returning to the warm interior of the house, added with a wink: "A party. Something more in tune with people like us. Hope to see you there, Margot and Eren."

Eren helped Mikasa into the carriage. She was silent the entire ride as she looked around with unflappable efficiency, alert to any dangers lurking in the alleys and corners where the light from the lampposts was swallowed up by shadows. It was a closed night with a cold and calm breeze where only the horse's casings and the rattle of the wheels advancing down the cobbled street could be heard. It didn't take long for them to arrive at the hotel and go up to their room, when it was past midnight. Eren noticed a round bulge sticking out in the middle of the bed. A bronze heater that the service must have brought while they were gone. Mikasa disappeared with her pajamas inside the bathroom and Eren, feeling a growing nervousness rise in his chest, took off his shoes and walked around the room. Perhaps it was foolish to be more concerned about sharing a bed with Mikasa rather than continuing to mull over everything that made him angry, but he had had so much fun with her at the theater and during the impromptu misdeed they played at the soiree that, right now, he found it difficult to connect with his negative thoughts and emotions. The day passed as a memorable and different experience for the two of them, regardless of the momentary bad time they went through when they found out about Trost's situation.

When he saw her barely holding back a laugh as they bounced on the mattress like a pair of brats, Eren could find nothing better to do than to fake moans more similar to those of someone having stomach problems than those that could be associated with pleasure. That was enough for Mikasa to explode into a melodic laugh which, unfortunately, Eren had to mute in order not to jeopardize his plan. It was then that he had the chance to come into contact with her mouth for the first time tonight, if only with the palm of his hand. Then came the blessed accident that did nothing more than stimulate his unprecedented cravings, and it's that he couldn't get rid of the sensation he experienced before the intimate closeness of their bodies and the perspective he gained by ending up on top of her. Eren battled the urge to seal the gap the entire time Mikasa smudged lipstick on his skin, and nearly lost control as he ventured to run his thumb over her soft, tempting parted lips, a pretext for blurring the color that decorated them and leave the trace of a passionate ghost kiss.

When Mikasa vacated the bathroom, Eren took his things and locked himself in there for a long time. He changed his clothes, noticing a long, fresh and fuzzy bruise on the side of his back, brushed his teeth twice and wiped the remains of lipstick from his chest, neck and face. He examined his appearance in the mirror and wondered for the umpteenth time if Armin was right and at least the attraction he felt for Mikasa was reciprocated. If she wanted something more from him too, something more than just an innocent friendship. There was a heat and a pressure in the pit of his stomach. A tickle. It was a pleasant as well as unbearable sensation, difficult to explain, that spread to his chest and under his navel and gave him the impression of starting to go crazy of impatience. A kind of sudden appetite that, he was aware, could only be satiated by coming in touch with the body and skin of a particular person.

He went back to the room. Mikasa was curled up near the edge of the bed with her back to him. This felt diametrically different from the occasion at Franz and Hannah's house, and also from the night they spent on the couch in the abandoned cabin, where the purpose had been to accompany Mikasa in her pain, to support her and to offer her some comfort. It was another context. Now the two of them were alone in a luxurious hotel room after a day out of the norm and in which Eren knowingly crossed the line.

"Can you turn off the light?" Mikasa asked him as he got into the warm bed.

In the dark, Eren couldn't even see the tip of his nose. A few minutes passed in which neither of them said anything and in which his eyes hardly adjusted to the gloom. A faint beam of light crept between the curtains and faded before it even reached them. He could hardly make out Mikasa's motionless fuzzy silhouette. He was beginning to think she had fallen asleep when she seemed to shift position.

"Eren?" He heard her whisper, unsure.

"Hm? I'm awake."

He had a small hope, so to speak, for her to refer to his audacity.

"I really liked going to the theater," Mikasa said after a while. "And the other thing was also fun... Thank you. And thanks for the dress."

Eren smiled at her, although she couldn't see him.

"I noticed that," he turned his whole body towards her and moved in her direction a few centimeters. "Look that they even ended up inviting us to a shady party because of the scene we put on. It was worth the sacrifice of your dress. Whenever you want, we buy another one and tear it up."

"Seriously?" her tired tone amused him. "Spendthrift."

"Yeah, I have money to spare to spend on whatever I want anyway," he bragged on purpose.

As expected, Mikasa groaned and didn't reply.

"What? I know you're only with me because of my bulging wallet… and who knows, maybe because of my handsome face too" Eren winced when he said that, chuckling under his breath. It was stupid and cringe.

"Oh, please... did you hit your head hard when we fell or something?"

Eren sighed. Continuing to tease her with this kind of thing would be a folly that would only make him look like a complete idiot and a waste of time.

"Something like that," he admitted with a more serious and husky inflection.

Mikasa seemed to catch that change. He felt her stir. The relaxed atmosphere that had been created between them came to an abrupt end and gave way to a slight tension. Eren tried to find her gaze in the dark but could only guess where her face would be by hearing the faint rustle of her breathing. There was a muffled vibration on the mattress. She must have been avoiding him, because glances have a certain weight and they can be felt even when they aren't seen. He suspected she had to be feeling his. Eren damped his lips and got ready to speak.

"Are you okay?" Mikasa asked suddenly, before he could ask her his own question, and now he did notice she was peering in his direction. "I heard you rant against the king when we were in that house, and then you told to that guy that you would see him soon..."

Eren clenched his jaw at the mere mention of Rod Reiss.

"I appreciate your concern, Mikasa, really, but I don't want to talk about it. It makes me too angry."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly.

"No, please don't be sorry. It's alright. It's just that-" Eren blew air through his nose and stuck his arms out from under the covers. "It's just that when I remember it makes me want to grind the hypocrite and coward son of a bitch with my fists, and I don't want to fall asleep thinking about that shit."

"Do you want... to train a little tomorrow? Hitting something until you get tired might help."

Eren rested the side of his face on the pillow, for in his annoyance he had rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Hit something?"

Deep down he still wanted to wreck a few things, like what they had wrecked in the guest room, but hitting some inanimate thing imagining it was the fucking king might work too.

"We don't have sandbags here but there are plenty of pillows we can use so you don't hurt yourself. What time do you have your first patient?"

The first would be at noon, so they agreed to attempt the training in the morning. It was a good idea and he had to try, otherwise he would end up grinding his teeth in rage in sleep, having murderous dreams, and waking up with a sore jaw, and surely having a headache. Mikasa had never offered to train him before… She wasn't proposing a hand to hand training and, for various reasons, it would be the best for now, right? Eren swallowed hard as he imagined her straddling him, pressing him to the ground and daring him to free himself, and his special appetite came crawling through his gut with renewed energy. He heard Mikasa yawn, wishing him good night, and he couldn't believe she would really just go to sleep like that, not mentioning what he had done, as if it hadn't happened. As if it didn't matter. Her shy reaction after that couldn't mean she was indifferent, could it?

"Mikasa, wait," he urged, reaching out an arm in search of hers and regretting halfway in case his hand grabbed something he wasn't allowed to touch. "Where are you?" He hit the mattress with the palm of his hand, under the covers.

What if Mikasa was actually indifferent and had only blushed because the situation had made her uncomfortable? What if she preferred to ignore that moment because it meant nothing to her? No. Eren was thinking about the way her dark eyes had glowed and he suspected that perhaps...

Fingers flapped gently on his forearm, tickling him.

"Here," she answered, her voice calm and lazy. "What's going on?"

Eren froze. In his conversation with his friend the night before the trip to Stohess, Armin had asked him what he planned to do now that he was aware of how he felt for Mikasa, and to tell the truth Eren was quite lost.

"I would say for you to be sincere with her, but since we aren't a hundred percent sure of how she feels about you, and taking into consideration the special situation in which you are, that may not be the best option for now," Armin had said, sitting cross-legged. Eren had done the same, paying attention to everything he said as he trusted his criteria more than his own."If you confess your feelings and she doesn't feel the same for you, or doesn't feel it with the same intensity, I suppose everything could get awkward between the two and could even ruin the coexistence... So I think that, for now, the best option is to test the waters. For you to see what it is that she accepts or corresponds, that you read her body language well, the things she says and doesn't say. See how she reacts."

"That's a bit like what I've already been doing, or trying to do," Eren said. "I'm worried about getting it wrong. Forcing things… I don't want it to seem like I'm forcing her to… want me too."

"And that's fine, but from now on be more proactive. You may not need to tell her that you are in love with her out of the blue, but you can show your interest through your actions. Of course, at first you shouldn't be too direct... I mean, you shouldn't come and kiss her and see what happens," Armin gave him a good-natured smile and Eren looked aside with a pout, embarrassed. "What I mean is that you court her. If she only likes you a little, she may end up liking you more by implying that she is important to you in many ways. If you don't want to go in 'conquest' mode as is, perhaps you should let things happen spontaneously between you two, without stimulating or forcing anything, as you say. In other words, be very, very patient."

Eren had learned quite a bit about patience over the past few years, whether at work or in his everyday life. He knew how to wait.

He slid his fingers between Mikasa's and intertwined their hands. She didn't try to let go, what is more, she slowly folded her fingers over his. After a few deep breaths, Eren leaned in slightly and brought Mikasa's solid knuckles to his lips. There were no escape attempts or questions, which could be considered a good sign. His chest swelled with excitement. His heart was pounding but a part of him, the most prudent, the one that sounded like Armin, advised him to leave it there. Enough demonstrations with romantic overtones for now. Eren didn't want to overwhelm or scare his friend.

"Good night, Mikasa," he whispered, beginning to loosen his grip on her hand. To his surprise, she didn't let him.

If he could only see what kind of expression she had...

For a minute or two that seemed like forever, Eren waited for her to say something, but she didn't. He felt sweat between their hands and he didn't know if it was his, or hers, or theirs. It was getting a little hot.

"So… is there something you want to know?" Eren decided to ask awkwardly.

"I-I…" she said with a small voice, and then didn't say anything else.

You what, Mikasa? Do you want to know why I did what I did? Do you want… something more from me too? Questions crowded Eren's head in exasperation, impatience, unable to be spoken aloud as the air thickened.

"Mikasa," he called her, remembering another of his many doubts. "Why can you relax so much around Armin and not around me?"

"Huh?" She quickly released his hand and pulled the covers, as if she wanted to hide under them and the darkness wasn't enough. "W-what do you mean?"

"I noticed that you behave differently with him. You kissed him on the cheek, for example," Eren tried for it not to sound like a complaint, but he wasn't sure he succeeded. He continued softly. "It's just that it seems strange to me, because you know me since before and even so... you've never done that with me, and I wonder if it's because you still don't feel really comfortable with me... or if it's because you don't want to." Or for another more complex reason, he added mentally.

She was slow to answer him. Eren could almost feel her bewilderment, but he needed to know.

"I w-was saying goodbye to him."

It wasn't the answer he was expecting. However, Eren wasn't being entirely clear, not direct, far from being sincere. And Mikasa was trying to hide even though he couldn't even see her, and she couldn't see him. They were just a couple of voices echoing through the blackness.

"So..." the tingling in his abdomen rose to his chest, where he experienced a slight pang at the uncertainty of the future. "Will I only receive one of those once this smokescreen comes to an end?"

Because it would. The lie would end sooner than later and they would no longer have to spend all that time together, or alone.

"Eren…" Mikasa whispered his name as if it was a plea.

"Can I… come closer?" Eren's voice was hoarse, urgent.