Biggest thanks to osravix, pink-eyes-to-my-dalingg, missanimemiss, im crying ahhsks (lmao), panthera gilt, guest (1), guest (2), angelofashesandtears, guest (3) and guest (4) for your wonderful reviews in the past chapter! You guys are precious, thank you so much for your support and, just like other times, this chapter is especially dedicated to you, the ones who take your time to review. Thanks again!
Hope you all enjoy this update :x
LAWLESS
Chapter 18. Closer
"I w-was saying goodbye to him," Mikasa replied when she was finally able to overcome her perplexity at Eren's remarks.
"So…" Eren continued. She clung to the sheets. A part of herself was goading her to flee or hide, while also warning her that she was already cornered. She had nowhere to go and nothing to do but use the bedding and the shadows that, in some way, served as shelter against the sudden persistence of her companion. "Will I only receive one of those once this smokescreen comes to an end?"
The situation, with Eren's actions and words, made her stomach tingle and caused her thoughts to become frantic inside her head. The darkness became slightly stifling. Her hands were sweating.
What was he talking about? What was going on?
But her own questions struck her as foolish when she realized that the very part of her that drove her to flee sensed what he truly meant. And Mikasa flinched, because Eren was insinuating that he wanted a kiss.
He wanted a kiss. One that had nothing to do with a farewell.
The very idea of a future farewell reopened a wound right in the middle of her chest. Nothing and nobody lasted forever. That had been one of the hardest lessons she had learned quite early in her short life, and now that circumstances had finally led her to meet Eren, Mikasa didn't want their paths to diverge again. They were already friends, weren't they? The mission of protecting him and pretending in the face of the world a type of relationship they didn't have would end at some point. She had no idea when, but that didn't mean they would definitely stop seeing each other once that happened, right?
At least that was what she expected.
She should have told Eren the kiss she had given Armin on the cheek had been more of a 'see you soon.' She should have been able to explain herself better. Too bad she wasn't skilled with words and that the pulse pounding in her ears reminded her over and over that yes, her behavior was different when it came to Eren because she felt for him… things she didn't feel for Armin. She had never even kissed him on the cheek not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't dare.
And she didn't want to have to say goodbye to him, not even in a 'see you soon' fashion. She didn't want to be separated from him or stop seeing him when this was all over.
"Eren..." was the only thing she managed to articulate without strength, her throat tight.
When this is all over, can I stay by your side?
"Can I… come closer?" Eren's hoarse, yearning voice made her hold her breath.
The anxiety she had been beginning to feel at a possible farewell dissipated suddenly. Her body temperature rose as if she had just been submerged in a tub overflowing with exquisite hot water. Her lips parted and, without thinking, she acceded to his request with a stifled yes that she could barely hear herself.
In the midst of that moonless night, Eren had kissed her knuckles and was now slowly approaching her across the bed they shared in a hotel in Stohess. They were alone in a luxurious room he had rented with the excuse that he should give the best to his supposed girlfriend.
To her.
I'm supposed to be crazy about you. This is supposed to be the kind of thing I would do for you, without thinking twice.
On one side, Eren had insinuated that he wanted a kiss, yes. Furthermore, Mikasa's pulse quickened as she realized that he had wanted to imply something else, both before and now. The blackness concealed her feverish state and somehow helped her to diminish her modesty. With her back to the mattress, her body relaxed in a strange response of relief, surrendering to whatever was going to happen between the two of them. Although this was nothing more than a hazy dream about a nocturnal encounter that not even the moonlight could witness, a secret, Mikasa had only one certainty: she wanted to be with Eren and she would allow him to get as close as he wanted. As much as he wanted.
A little dizzy, she closed her eyes at the shy and clumsy caress of Eren on her hair, who seemed to be groping for her position. No, she wasn't dreaming. It was him and her, together. Very close. She could feel the intoxicating heat expelled from his musky-scented body. Eren was leaning over her. His breath tickled her forehead and then her ear. Mikasa bit back a gasp as she felt the tip of his nose slide over the edge of her face and soft, trembling lips brush her ear. She was going to die, but if it was this way, then it didn't matter. Eren's large and warm palm curled against her narrow neck. It burned like his breath against her earlobe, like the burn and tingling she felt was increasing in her lower belly. He removed his hand suddenly, and a light, cold breeze dissipated the heat on the skin it had previously covered.
"Mikasa... If you don't want any of this…" Eren began saying, with a trace of doubt in his throaty and eager voice. "Just tell me... or push me away."
She couldn't speak to reply, and Eren did nothing for a few moments, as if he was still giving her a chance to run away if she wanted to. Instead, Mikasa rolled onto her side and leaned closer to him, burying her face in the curve between Eren's neck and shoulder. She could distinguish between the fragrance of his perfume and the hint of masculine sweat on his skin. He let out a heavy sigh and slid one arm under her body at her waist, hugging her, while he trailed his other hand down her shoulder, descending like a burning ember through her arm and back.
Mikasa raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. She stood still, feeling Eren's heartbeat in her own chest, the constant contraction and thrust of his abdomen against hers. She shivered and pressed herself against him when she felt his warm, damp lips plant a kiss just below her earlobe, where her jaw and neck meet. Eren's fiery hands crawled aimlessly down her back. Heat penetrated the fabric of her camisole as if he were touching her bare skin. Their noses touched, hesitant, just before their foreheads met. They were so close that they breathed each other's scorching hot air. They stayed like that for a few moments, waiting, feeling, until all at once the distance that separated their faces was completely gone.
Eren blended his careful yet enticing lips with hers. Once. Twice. Three times. Mikasa melted with each rhythmic, gentle caress she tried to adjust to. It was more than just pressing their lips together. She had never kissed someone before and didn't know if she was doing it right, but she was avid for more. Eren seemed to want the same because he gripped her against him and opened her mouth with his as he bowed his head. Mikasa felt her frantic pulse everywhere. In her throat, inside her ears. Their teeth collided shortly before the stumbling, wet, ardent meeting of their tongues. A little moan came out from her. Eren dug his fingers into her waist while his other hand pushed her head from the nape of her neck, as if they weren't tight enough already. It wasn't enough. She adjusted her arms around his neck. She could hardly breathe anymore, but she didn't want to stop either, and they still had to separate for a few seconds to gasp for air.
Kisses didn't have to be associated with farewells. They could also indicate a beginning.
The pause in which only their ragged breaths were heard didn't last long. Eren kissed her again with vehemence, hunger, until his lips suddenly left hers. She tried to find her way back to his mouth. He pushed her down gently until her back was resting on the mattress. Eren hovered above her, his hands and knees on either side of her. Mikasa stood there panting with languid arms, attentive to Eren's also labored breathing, whose silhouette rose like a shadow darker than the darkness itself that enveloped them. The solid shadow slowly approached her again. Mikasa unconsciously clenched her thighs and moved her head to the side, sealing her eyelids. She felt like prey trapped and about to be eaten. To her awe, the notion scared her as much as it excited her.
Eren inhaled into her hair, kissed her forehead and dragged his lips to her cheek. He left a trail of warm kisses on her chin and jaw, and sinuously descended across her throat, the skin of which he caught between his lips and teeth and moistened with the tip of his tongue as he went down. Mikasa found it impossible to think. Everything in that moment was centered on the impressions Eren left on her body, and she felt like he was driving her crazy. He put a hand on her stomach and stopped after planting a kiss on her collarbone. His nose tickled the base of her neck. Mikasa stroked Eren's back over the fabric of his pajamas, silently encouraging him to continue. He groaned when, seeing that he didn't react, she grabbed him by his clothes and pulled him back to her mouth. Mikasa wanted him closer. She wrapped her legs around Eren's body as he moaned something unintelligible and kissed her with an effervescence that made the most sensitive area between her thighs smolder. She wanted to feel every fiber of his body clinging to hers but he propped his knees on the bed, keeping them from getting too close together, and broke the kiss.
"Wait," Eren gasped, putting a hand on top of the one she still had on his chest. Little by little he increased the distance between them. "We have to... to stop…"
Mikasa let go of Eren's pajamas and he dropped to the side, letting out a heavy sigh. The only things she had on top of her now were the sheets and the duvet. A disappointing coolness surrounded her now, when what she wanted was the suffocating heat of Eren back.
Why did they have to stop? Had she done something wrong?
Eren shifted on his side of the bed. She heard him mutter a gasping curse.
"… Eren?" She asked in a small voice, rubbing her neck.
"I'm sorry," Eren sounded somewhat embarrassed. "I was the one who had to… stop."
"Why?"
If it weren't for the darkness and because she had completely lost her ability to think, Mikasa wouldn't have dared to do so many of the things she had just done, including asking that simple question.
"Mikasa, I…" Eren went silent for a long time until he finally added: "I need… a few minutes to calm down a bit."
.
Mikasa had the bed to herself when she woke up. She was stretching from a good night, the kind of night without dreams or nightmares, until the reminiscence of the kisses she had shared with Eren hit her suddenly. A blush invaded her face as she felt self-conscious. However, that memory seemed as something so surreal that perhaps she had indeed dreamed it.
And, where was Eren?
She straightened up and saw his backlit silhouette sitting at the table across the room. His face was leaning toward the window as he drank the steaming contents of a porcelain mug. He had his hair combed, wore a white shirt and a sleeveless black cloth vest. Mikasa jumped out of bed and smooth out her camisole just as Eren turned to glance at her.
"Hi," he greeted her with a difficult to decipher demeanor. He seemed to search her face for something for a few moments, then looked down and gestured to the table in front of him. "I was about to wake you up. I ordered breakfast."
"W-What time is it?"
Eren shrugged.
"A few minutes past ten. Come before the milk and water get cold."
Mikasa put on a coat over her camisole and walked barefoot across the fluffy carpet to the table. Eren brought one of the armchairs closer to her, muttering a "you're welcome" at her thanks and turning his gaze to the cloudy sky, soared by one or another bird.
"There's black tea, imported coffee and chocolate," he said without taking his eyes off the sky, which in a way relieved her.
From Eren's cup came the strong, sweet, roasted aroma of coffee. Mikasa ignored the scrambled eggs and bacon. She grabbed a rectangle of crusty bread topped with pumpkin seeds, stuffed with ham and cheese, and took a bite of it. She then grabbed a piece of dark chocolate. She was sniffing at it, half distracted and sleepy, when she felt Eren's eyes on her. Her heart skipped a beat.
"If you are going to drink hot chocolate," he said, putting a barely steaming cup of milk in front of her, "drop it in soon or you won't be able to melt it at all."
Flushed, she let the piece of chocolate sink into the milk and stirred it with a silver spoon for longer than necessary, avoiding Eren's gaze. She poured in two cubes of sugar and drank, holding the cup in both hands. There was a lot of movement down the street. The shops were already open and people and carriages came and went.
Having breakfast with Eren in a hotel room while she was still wearing her nightgown was so different from their breakfasts at home. This was the kind of thing real couples did. Sleeping together in the same bed, having breakfast alone in the morning. Kissing... Suddenly the coat she had put on felt too warm, a mixture of the effect of the hot chocolate and the memories, the sensations on her body.
The trace of Eren's lips on hers. The fluttering of his lips around her neck...
She took off her coat without getting up from the chair and fanned her face a couple of times. Eren stole a glance at her, grabbed a cookie, and continued to stare out the window. She heard him sigh after a while. Then he cleared his throat and massaged the back of his neck before saying:
"About last night..."
Mikasa let out a squeal as her bread fell to the ground. It fell apart into crumbs and the chunks of ham and cheese got scattered on the carpet. The buttered side got upside down. It would leave a stain. She knelt on the carpet to pick up the little mess. Her hands were shaking a little. Eren squatted down and held out a saucer to keep the crumbs from gathering in the palm of her hand, while he helped her by picking up the pieces of ham and cheese that had fallen nearer to him. Their fingers brushed as they tried to pick up the last piece of cheese. She slowly pulled her hand away, looking up at Eren, who was watching her like he was waiting for her to say or do something. There was a hint of hesitance in his bright eyes. His green eyes were so captivating, so beautiful. A pair of hypnotic emeralds that stood out against his sun-kissed skin.
He helped her up, but instead of letting go of her hand once they were standing face to face, Eren gently tugged on her, closing the gap between them.
"Mikasa," he called her softly, and Mikasa's heart leaped. Her stomach fluttered as Eren lifted her chin so their gazes met. Her whole face was burning and her eyes were glassy. Then she realized that Eren's cheeks also had more color than usual. "I… I don't regret last night but, what about you?"
Pulse racing, Mikasa's gaze dropped to Eren's somewhat parched lips. She brought her fingers to her own lips. All of that had happened for real between the two of them. A kiss. A few kisses. Eren put an arm around her waist and lifted her chin again. In the blink of an eye, she felt his warm coffee breath on her mouth. It was a brief caress, so delicate and sweet it made her sigh and weakened up her legs. She opened her lashes slowly. He looked at her with such intensity and longing reflected in his eyes that Mikasa got short of breath once again.
She swallowed hard and, putting a hand on his chest, stepped back a few inches. She blew out a breath of air as if she had been drowning and fled as best she could from that scorching gaze. What would she have done if she could have witnessed that gaze last night, as they kissed? Eren seemed to notice her discomfort and let her go. Then Mikasa felt extremely self-conscious. He was dressed and she was only wearing her camisole over herself. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her bust to feel less naked, less transparent. The actions of the night before began to reverberate in her body and mind. She still felt the traces of Eren's kisses on her skin. In her mouth, face, jaw and neck. Her own legs tangled around his warm body. Eren's burning tongue rubbing...
"… Mikasa?"
She winced and looked at him, her face boiling hot.
"I-I have to go take a bath," she said, stumbling over her words.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Ymir knocked on the door so hard she had to rub the joints of her fingers, already reddened by so much insistence. It frustrated her that on her only day off of the week she couldn't find Eren in his bloody apartment in Mitras. Nor was it that she had much hope of finding him at home to begin with, because that fool was constantly going around everywhere, playing at being a good boy and complying with what Historia's father demanded in exchange for the exclusive and expensive education he received at the university. Anyway, that hustle and bustle must be far from bothering Eren, as long as he could keep going around doing whatever he wanted in between and sleeping anywhere like a stray dog. Ymir had always thought he was a weirdo, so much so that she once thought he would end up in a mental sanatorium like hers in Yarckel if he got to grow old.
She pressed her forehead against the black varnished wood, giving up for now. Ymir took out a beige envelope from her pocket. She had stamped a kiss with dark lipstick on it. Inside, it kept the ridiculous and ambiguous note she wrote during her hours of insomnia and sudden paranoia. It had cost her several gags in between, although she had to admit that its first line was spectacular, at least.
My beloved stud, the note began. Writing that single line had made Ymir laugh like a madwoman at her worst moment of unease. At that time she had laughed so hard that her eyes got teary and she ended up with a sore belly. Perhaps she would be a better candidate for the sanatorium than Eren and, if the other caretakers had been able to hear her from the basement, then it wouldn't be long before they confined her themselves thinking she had lost her mind. It wouldn't be the first time something like this would happen to one of them. The ink had smeared when she drew the imprecise letters under the twinkling light of a small portable lamp. I miss you whispering dirty things in my ear, the kind of things that include the letter H. Come see me soon, honey, for I'm getting dry. My freckles have almost forgotten your kisses. Forever yours, Y.
"My freckles have almost forgotten..." Ymir remembered in a whisper, frowning and crumpling the envelope.
She wasn't amused by it at all now.
That last line was so cheesy and true it hurt. And it had nothing to do with Eren, of course. Ymir quickly straightened the paper with her palms and slid it into the cool brass mail slot. She hoped the fool of Eren understood that this was an urgent matter, because there was no way she would stoop so low that she could write something like that to him and even risk the embarrassing evidence being preserved, if not because it was a matter of life or death. Or rather about possible undead people. Ymir kicked the door, frustrated that she couldn't find him home. She had no choice but to return a few hours later, to see if she could save herself the headache at the mere idea of a man reading her embarrassing note. She heard someone speak behind her back.
"Dr. Jaeger hasn't been around here for weeks, miss," said an old man with bulging eyes who was leaning out from the only other apartment on that floor.
Unsurprisingly, Eren the celibate lived in a place very similar to a fucking home for elderly. Upon entering the building, Ymir had already seen an old couple go up the claustrophobic elevator together with an elevator operator, as another couple went down the stairs. She almost ran up through the steps on her way to the third floor. This was the fifth old man she saw, in how long? About fifteen minutes? Eren had to be the only boring twenty-something loser living in that place. Although considering his profession, he surely lived surrounded by ancient people because they were conveniently about to die. He could get hold of their bodies with little effort to study or cook their decrepit guts afterwards.
"Weeks?" Ymir asked, raising her eyebrows, and the old man nodded.
"Since he ran away with his girlfriend the night-"
"His what?!" Had she been drinking something, Ymir would have spit it all out. Absolutely all of it.
She walked up to the old man. She guessed he was about seventy years old. He was overweight, typical of the upper neighborhoods. Sedentary life. Free time, gossip and food to spare.
Eren, that weird idiot who she thought would die a virgin, had a girlfriend for real? How and when could she joke and talk with Historia about this unheard of event? And Ymir had to add that other thing to it, the reason why she had taken the trouble to come here. The risk of coming and sharing her wild suspicions involving another member of the Royal Family. She shook her head as she visualized Alina's blue eyes mingling and aligning with Historia's. She got goosebumps.
Goddammit.
Think of something else, she told herself. If she didn't, then she would start to ramble and come up with the most absurd plans to get Historia out of her golden cage and then board a ship that would take them as far as possible from that island of the devil. Yet Ymir knew she could never do all of this alone. The impotence such a situation caused her was distressing.
"Are you another one of his girlfriends?"
It took Ymir a few moments to process what she had just been asked. As soon as she did, she bit inside her cheeks to keep from laughing heartily. Since she was already there, it couldn't hurt to hear the whole rumor. How lucky she was to run into an old man who was going straight for the gossip.
"Why do you think that?" She asked nonchalantly, examining her nails.
"The letter you left for Dr. Jaeger" explained the old snooping man without an iota of shame, gesturing towards Eren's apartment. "It had a lipstick mark. A romantic missive."
"Ah, what an observer. Could you smell the perfume I sprinkled on it from here, too? Well, yeah," she let out a dramatic exhalation, trying not to smile. "I think that's what Eren told me last time, that I was his girlfriend, but you see... He left me for someone else. A shame. Deep down, I've always known that I can't trust men; they don't think with their heads. No desire to offend, of course," she said, shrugging.
The old man was unfazed by her words. In fact, right now he had a flat expression and his bulging eyes were unable to maintain eye contact. It was an erratic and lost look. Ymir restrained the urge to smack herself on the face for not having realized earlier that she was talking to a possibly senile man, hence his inappropriate questions, particularly for someone of his social position, in addition to his strange demeanor. She was so worried about avoiding thinking about certain things even for a little while and finding out about Eren, about the cheap gossip, that it took her too long to notice the signs.
A woman called the old man from inside the apartment. His name was Walter. The call seemed to make him react and he watched her, disoriented.
"I already paid the taxes!" He complained, closing the door with distrust.
Ymir snorted and hurriedly left the home for elderly behind. She had enough in her day to day caring for people with clouded minds. Or what was worse, people who were supposed to be dead. Ghosts of flesh and blood. Like who could be the older sister of the bastard princess of Paradis, for example, who happened to be her girlfriend. If the relationship they had could still be considered dating. It had been too long since they had last seen each other, and too long since they hadn't exchanged even a paltry 'romantic missive,' as Senile Walter had called it. She tried not to count the exact number of months that were left behind.
I think that's what she told me last time, that I was her girlfriend, but you see...
Why did even the stupidest thing she said herself ended up haunting her?
She squinted at the glare of the sun projected from behind the clouds. It wouldn't rain that day. Her ankle boots clicked hard against the cobblestones. She wandered the streets until she came to a quiet and nice park, where she sat on one of the empty benches near the fountain that splashed in the center. There was a woman in her forties walking her ridiculous lap dog, which she had dressed to match her own outfit. As a child, Ymir only had one or two 'dresses' full of patches, and she had to wear them for years until they were turned into a translucent fabric that slit by barely touching it. A well-dressed teenager, who must have recently left school, paced around holding a bouquet of flowers and adjusting his hat. Ymir clicked her tongue. It made her want to yell and throw water at him. It was unbearable, a nuisance. Even that ugly brat and Eren had girlfriends now. Women they could see without major restrictions or issues. She, on the other hand, had nothing but secrecy, absence and a few pieces of a dead tree with ink words that didn't have the power to caress her like the woman she loved.
Sometimes Ymir couldn't help but wonder if Historia still loved her. If time and circumstances hadn't diluted her feelings. If, when they met again, she would dedicate her the same warm, beautiful smile of hers as always.
"You have no remedy, Ymir," she would say after having heard any of her nonsense, cradling her face tenderly between her small hands.
It had been three days since Alina had one of her moments of clarity, and despite her initial horror at her possible true identity, Ymir thought that perhaps this would help her get back with Historia. A selfish thought that illuminated her like a flash of hope in the midst of the tragedy that was that fragmented woman in front of her. She had taken care of Alina as many days and nights as she took care of anyone at work, trying not to get attached to her nor giving her special treatment. She had heard Alina repeat the same thing over and over again, witnessed her crises, seen her curious moments of lucidity and her pain as she realized where she was and what she had become. What they had made her become. The obstacles the woman encountered every time she tried to remember something important. Until Ymir heard her mention the name of no one else and no one less than Historia. Her Historia.
"That's my sister's name. The only one I have left," Alina had clarified while Ymir recovered from the shock of hearing that name. For a moment she thought she herself had said it out loud, but no, it had been Alina's brittle voice. "You have to help me. Please. She could help me."
Ymir didn't know what to say back then as she scrutinized the woman's features. The shape and hue of her blue eyes framed by thick black lashes, so much like hers. Perhaps the name had come up during one of her own daytime reveries and Alina was repeating it in the midst of her insanity.
"Maybe if you tell me her full name and where she lives, I could look her up for you and tell her to deign to come see you," she had replied with a nervous smile.
No one ever went to see poor Alina, when even corpses in cemeteries received visitors. Mr. Todenhöfer sent correspondence from time to time, reminding the sanatorium staff to keep her hair short, never to let her wander alone, much less leave her room. That he would not tolerate them "getting her lost." Inquiries regarding her well-being or progress, if any, were non-existent, as if he had completely forgotten that Alina was a person. That she was his daughter.
And she had never been his daughter. She was the daughter of another man who didn't care, either.
"Historia Reiss," Alina had said without hesitation, and Ymir had laughed at the irony.
At that time she had thought some other caregiver or psychiatrist might have mentioned that name. It wouldn't have been strange since it was public knowledge. Alina might also have known it from before, perhaps from when she used to spend most of her time lucid.
"Oh, so your sister is the princess of Paradis?"
Alina had panted through her nose and dug her nails into her legs in anguish. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Seeing her like this for the umpteenth time afflicted Ymir. She patted her on the back to comfort her a bit as she felt deep inside her she should consider what she was saying as true.
"Nobody will believe me, right?" She sobbed. "I will stay trapped here... until my father decides that I will be useful to him and the family again," she had said in exasperation while rubbing her short black hair, which then she tugged.
Frieda. Historia's sister was named Frieda. Ymir had been about to call her that on impulse and didn't do it because she knew that if she did, she wouldn't get out of there alive. What's more, that conversation had already been too dangerous for both of them. They could kill Ymir and… Alina could be done who knows what as long as she didn't speak again nor sow any doubt. Ymir wondered how many more people she had said the same thing to. Perhaps the others had decided to ignore her or, conversely, increase her medication at the fear of it being true. No one would want to meddle in sordid Royal secrets. It suited none of them.
A princess declared dead who's actually alive... The rightful heir to the throne, above Historia, crazy as a goat and locked in a sanatorium. Ymir once heard a rumor about a disease that had afflicted several of the members of the Royal Family, but nothing specific. She never asked Historia, having completely forgotten. She could only remember it three days ago. The rumor about the disease could be true, as well as what Frieda was saying.
"If I believed each and every one of the patients who ask to be taken out of here and who tell barbarities like yours, I would lose my job. Sorry, Alina," she lied to her.
Her pulse had drummed in her ears as she injected her with the emergency dose of tranquilizers. Helpless and defeated, the young woman didn't resist. Ymir found it impossible to stick her eyelashes together that night, ruminating over and over that Alina Todenhöfer had to be Frieda Reiss. She had to be. Ymir hoped she was.
And that Eren Jaeger could be able to recognize her.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
They had left the house of Eren's third patient an hour ago. They were eating an exquisite meringue soufflé at the fine restaurant he had chosen for lunch, even though he had tried to get Mikasa to tell him if she wanted to go to one in particular. She didn't know which one to decide on and it was useless to ask for them to go somewhere relatively cheap, since in that area of the district there was nothing that could be considered within that price category.
"I don't regret it," Mikasa whispered out of nowhere, out of phase, playing with a little pile of white mixture. She pulled Eren's red scarf up to her chin. "... About what happened last night."
Eren's spoon hung in the air for a few seconds, until he plunged it back into what was left of his dessert. He left it there while he seemed to be able to breathe normally again. An invisible weight seemed to leave his broad shoulders and Mikasa felt guilty for having him on edge since breakfast. He hadn't insisted since. They both tried to act the same way they always did when they were in public, despite the extra tension and extra weight that swayed between them. A different kind of awkwardness. Each touch had been laden with something akin to a suppressed sigh, a hesitation that was very difficult to deal with. They both felt that the release of that tension was imminent, only that neither of them knew exactly when it would happen, and that it also depended more than anything on Mikasa. On her response and her receptivity to the obvious changes their relationship was undergoing.
It depended on whether or not she regretted the step they had taken, but how could she regret it? She also wanted what they had started.
Eren caressed her hand resting on the table. The gentle, familiar gesture helped her relax a bit and breathe more deeply. Mikasa liked this. She still couldn't believe it but everything felt so… good. As if this was simply part of the natural development of things. She slowly turned her hand and their fingers curled together. He stroked her knuckles with his thumb.
"We're going to have to go to the apothecary," Eren said in a casual tone, finishing eating his dessert with renewed energy and better spirits, without disjoining their hands. "I ran out of burn ointments and bandages, and apart from that I have little penicillin left."
"Is there... any of those near here?" Mikasa finished off her soufflé.
"Yeah. We can get there by walking quietly, there's no rush. Do you want to order something else? Any herbal tea?"
Eren scanned the restaurant to, if necessary, call the waiter who had served them.
"I don't think I can eat or drink anything else, thank you."
"In any case, neither can I," he said with a lazy grin. "We're going to have to slow down."
Mikasa replied with a shy smile, her cheeks warm. She didn't know when she would stop blushing or feeling that tickle in her belly every time he did anything, but it seemed like it would take a long time. Eren requested and paid the bill. They left the place arm in arm, an action they had repeated so many times before and yet today it felt like something completely fresh and new.
The sky had opened a little and the afternoon would be able to enjoy a few hours of light before sunset.
"Whenever I've been here, I make a detour to cross a wooden bridge that is over a pond of water lilies. At this time of year they don't have any flowers, but I think it's still worth it to take a look," commented Eren, leading her down an empty paved alley. A slightly crowded area could be seen some meters beyond the exit of it.
On one side was a low stone wall, framing the boundaries of a huge property, and on the other there were a series of backyards, trees and shrubbery. A tabby cat appeared after a jingle of its sleighbell atop the wall, from which it leapt with enviable grace and agility. It stood in the middle of the alley, peering at them with its yellow eyes for a few seconds, and then slipped into the bushes. It was cute.
"You kind of behave like cats, you know?"
"Eh?" Mikasa stood on her tiptoes, trying to see where it had gone. "Why?"
Eren stopped walking and put his medical bag on the floor. Mikasa immediately felt a lurch in her chest. He stood in front of her and ran his knuckles across her cheekbone.
"Although…" he murmured as he slowly leaned towards her, "maybe right now you aren't going to behave like one."
At first he kissed her gently, as he had kissed her that morning. An innocent and gentle caress with his lips. Then he put one hand on her waist and the other slid down her jaw and nape, inside her scarf. It was from then on that the cadence of the kiss changed.
Mikasa clung to the lapel of Eren's jacket as if her life depended on it. Eren pulled her closer. His fingers tickled the nape of her neck and tangled in her hair. A hot sigh died in her mouth. Their teeth clashed once, twice, but they didn't care. Her back ended up meeting the stone wall.
Eren took his time licking her lower lip, as if he was tasting her. The shudder that ran through Mikasa forced her to arch slightly against him. Eren tasted sweet, like the meringue they had eaten. The heat that had been building between her legs intensified as she felt him harmlessly bite her lip. Mikasa ran her hands up his torso, shoulders, and cheeks and, while digging her fingers into Eren's hair, nibbled him back. In response, he pressed her further against the stone with his body and grabbed her hips. She gasped with her eyes closed as he started to go down her neck.
Eren suddenly complained of pain. He swore and growled:
"What the he-?"
"Where is what's left of your decency, youngsters?!" A man with a low top-hat, who had just hit Eren with his cane, scolded them.
Eren dodged a second, clumsy blow with an expression of disbelief and annoyance. Uncomfortable at the interruption and the spectators, Mikasa adjusted her hair and clothes, not knowing what to do before the unusual situation. There was a man in his twenties, tall and blond, next to the one with the cane. Maybe they were father and son?
"Tame your impulses, boy, it already seemed as if you would take her here and now. Outdoors." The blonde scoffed. He had his hands in his pockets and was studying Mikasa with thoroughness. "I highly doubt that this is a proper treatment for your lady."
Eren stepped between her and the stranger, shielding her from his inspection.
"Alright. We're sorry for this terrible lack of morals and good manners. Keep going your way." Eren snapped, waving his hand for them to leave.
"Leave them, Kurt," said the older man, muttering something about 'the inappropriate behavior of today's youth' and resuming his slow march.
Kurt stayed where he was, visually squabbling with Eren, as if challenging him. After a while, he gave him an arrogant smile and followed the guy with the cane, who had been waiting for his son, or whatever he was, and was watching him sternly. He seemed to berate him as they walked away.
"I shouldn't… have kissed you like that in the street," Eren said in a low voice, with a frown and a concerned expression.
Mikasa adjusted the scarf, hiding the small smile that tugged at her slightly sore lips.
"It's okay. There was no one around w-when you…" She looked away. "It doesn't matter."
"Are you sure? It's just…" Eren seemed to consider something and then turned his hands into fists. He glanced in the direction the men who had interrupted them had gone. "I felt the urge of breaking that asshole's nose for staring at you like that."
She didn't want to ask him how he had interpreted the blond's scrutiny. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Mikasa was still stunned by what they had been doing and by everything that had been going on between the two of them in the last twenty-four hours or so.
"These people are nuts," Eren grumbled, grabbing her hand as they walked. "Can't believe they hit someone out of nowhere with a cane, and all because of... something like that."
"Did he... hit you hard?"
"No, but it was just like when they scare stray dogs away. The old jerk took me by surprise."
Mikasa started laughing. Eren shook his head and fought a smile, his brow still furrowed.
"Are you really laughing because they hit me with a fucking cane?" Eren released her hand and put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her. He stooped ever so slightly toward her and whispered, his smile dancing on his lips, "It isn't funny. Besides, aren't you supposed to protect me and all of that? Some shitty old man attacked me with his cane and you didn't do anything, Mikasa. I'm going to snitch on you with Kenny, because I'd bet whatever you want that Levi congratulates you and decorates you or something."
She laughed louder and Eren ended up joining her in her revelry. When she calmed down, Mikasa glanced up at the sky, relieved. Eren gave her a kiss on the cheek.
They climbed the green wooden bridge and stopped at the top of the arch, where they rested their forearms on the railing. The pond was small and had patches of rounded flat floating leaves. As Eren had said, the flowers were absent, but the view was still nice, placid. The light breeze played with her hair. In areas not covered by water lilies, a few silverfish could be spotted swimming underwater. Across the pond, a girl with braided brown hair looked up and down, sketching the scene in front of her on canvas supported on a small wooden easel that rested on her thighs. Mikasa wondered if she was including them in her drawing, or if she was just rendering an empty bridge. When the girl greeted her with a shy gesture, then she thought that perhaps she was indeed including them in her artwork.
Mikasa returned the greeting with a friendly smile.
"Don't get too excited. She must be drawing stick figures."
"Eren!" Mikasa smacked him on the arm, pouting a little with colored cheeks. "How pesky…"
Eren gave her a sly smile.
"You don't defend me from the limping man and besides that you hit me too. What will you do next? Break a nail, knock me out while I help you, and kidnap me?"
Mikasa narrowed her gaze. So he was going to be annoying and start messing with her.
"Are you giving me ideas?" She threw a tight crooked smile back. "Be careful, that while we're at it I can steal that bulging wallet of yours. Since you have so much money, I doubt you'll miss it too much."
Eren looked at her with that intensity so typical of him that made her nervous. It didn't take long for the blood to flow excessively towards her face, but she refused to stop facing him.
"What?"
"I got distracted a little while ago," Eren said as he dragged his eyes to her mouth without qualms, and then added in a low voice, "after I mentioned that about you behaving like cats. Sometimes the slightest noise or movement startles you, so to speak, and you run away. If I bug you a little, it doesn't take long for you to show your claws, like now." He smiled at her. "It's funny, yes. It's... let's say it's... Well, I'll tell you another day... But that thing about you suddenly flouncing or running away and not 'coming back' for a long while is... complicated."
Eren crossed his forearms on the railing and looked down at the pond.
"Is it… because of this morning?"
"Yes, and because of other times, but I think I understand a bit of it. That ambivalence."
"I felt…" Mikasa took a few moments to find the word, "overwhelmed."
"I figured," said Eren. "Am I overwhelming you right now? Because if so, it is not my intention."
"No... I mean yes, but only a little."
"I'm sorry…"
Mikasa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"It's okay," she murmured, noticing his worried expression. "I promise I won't run out of here like some feral cat."
Relaxing his shoulders, he glanced at her and chuckled.
"Hopefully not," Eren whispered, more to himself.
And Mikasa couldn't hear him. In those moments she twitched in alert, feeling observed, and not by Eren, precisely. She took a quick look around, moving only her eyes so as not to reveal that she had noticed. It wasn't the artist girl. It wasn't any person who was walking in the vicinity of the park around the lily pond. No one had crossed the bridge while the two of them were up there. She took Eren by the hand and gave him one of her fake smiles. His demeanor contracted almost imperceptibly, but he gave her a tight smile.
"What is it?"
"They're watching us. They're stalking us, in fact."
Eren seemed disturbed, but did his best not to show it, then he brushed a lock of hair from her forehead in a gesture so casual it distracted her.
"What do we do? Do we leave?"
"We wait a while and then we leave. We still have to go to the apothecary, anyway"
They continued to act as normal as possible for several minutes, until at last they got off the wooden bridge and left the pond behind. Mikasa waved a hand in the direction of the artist girl, who did the same. She seemed to be a nice girl.
"I still think they are stick drawings, but a fine arts version of stick drawings."
Mikasa rolled her eyes.
"I don't need to knock you out to steal your wallet. You know it, right?"
"Of course I know," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You are an excellent thief. You could have already stolen it from me and I wouldn't even have realized it."
"Hey…"
"It's a compliment."
They were following them. Someone was following them. She could feel the gaze and the presence of someone stalking them, like a vulture circling overhead. She wouldn't tell Eren so as not to make him nervous.
They followed them all the way to the apothecary. Mikasa stayed outside, at the entrance, simulating some non-existent annoyance while Eren bought what he needed inside. She alternated glances at her surroundings as she spent most of her time contemplating the colors in the sky, where there were more clouds than before. The sun had just begun to set. The rest of the people who passed by that crowded avenue were oblivious to their concerns. They were not followed or spied on by anyone. Mikasa had to try to recognize the spy and refrain from acting on it, unless necessary. Then she had to tell Kenny and Levi about it and continue pretending that nothing was wrong, that everything was fine. That she was just a simple girl dating Eren Jaeger.
She leaned toward the entrance to the apothecary to make sure Eren was still inside. She saw him talk good-humored with a lady, the manager of the premises, while choosing bandages, ointments and other things. He was the only customer they were serving at the time, the others had already left with their purchases.
Mikasa felt the weight of that look again, but she didn't try to catch it. She looked down at her boots and leaned against the edge of the porch. The spy was going in her direction. They were coming from the street to the right. If the guy following them was willing to do something even when it wasn't dark yet, Mikasa was more than ready to fight. She wouldn't allow Eren to be harmed or taken to who knows where. She wouldn't let them touch a single hair on his head.
Several people passed in front of her coming from both directions of the street, some also crossed from the sidewalk at front, but none was perceived as the spy. In fact, she was still able to feel their gaze on her. They were provoking her. They wanted her to seek them openly, to see that her caution was not typical of the normal girl she pretended to be, but she wouldn't give them the pleasure. She sighed and smiled with all the sweetness she was capable of faking. She took another look inside the apothecary and greeted Eren, who just saw her peeking in. The latter, oblivious to what was happening, told her with a smile that he was almost ready with his order.
Mikasa stared up at the sky. The spy had dared to get closer. She glanced to the right and saw him. It took her a millisecond. She saw the head of a man in a low-top hat like the old man who had struck Eren with the cane. Her blood ran cold at the thought it could be him and that he had pretended to limp, that he had put together his show about decency and all that crap on purpose to take advantage of approaching them while they were off guard. Or that it was the blonde, the Kurt guy. Shit. She tried not to show she felt as if a bucket of frozen water had just been thrown at her.
Shit.
The man stood by a newspaper stand. Mikasa could only see his hat. Compared to the newspaper rack, this was a short man. It couldn't be the old man with the cane, who was almost as tall as his son, and neither could be the son. She didn't hide her sigh of momentary relief. She reckoned it was someone shorter than her, catching his movement out of the corner of her eye. He had resumed the steps towards her and towards the apothecary where Eren was, who must be about ready to leave. Mikasa stretched her skirt. She also relaxed her expression and stretched her lips into a smile.
"You're missing the sunset," she said aloud for Eren to hear, tilting her head to one side.
"I'm almost there," he said.
Mikasa looked left first, did a lazy general sweep until she got to the right. A short man, in a suit of black cloth and fine stitching, expensive clothes, a hat...
One. Damn. Moment.
She knew that way of walking. Even if he hid his face and acted like a damn freak, the one coming around was Levi. She clenched her fists. Son of the biggest-! What a scare he had given her! If they had no audience, Mikasa would have jumped on him with a roar and deliberately kicked him in the balls.
What the hell was he doing at Stohess?
They exchanged glances. Levi pointed to a piece of paper he pulled from one of his pockets and dropped it on the cobblestones a few inches from his foot. Mikasa stepped on it and carefully dragged it with the boot sole as she heard Eren tell her that they could go anywhere else now.
"You dropped something," she said to Eren, pointing at the paper.
"Eh?" Mikasa encouraged him to pick up the paper with a gesture of her chin when he gave her a puzzled look. "Ah... I didn't realize it. Thank you."
Eren opened the note, read it, and put it in his pocket. A while later, on their way to his next patient's house, he muttered:
"It says that tonight we have a meeting at my teacher's house. I hope she doesn't give us one of her dangerous granola bars."
They headed to Hange Zoe's house as soon as Eren had finished his two remaining visits of that afternoon. Mikasa had been there before but, since she was a mess at that time, she barely remembered the place. It was a large red brick house and white windows, similar to the others in that neighborhood. Eren clenched his jaw at her side as they waited for the door to be opened for them. She gave his hand a light squeeze.
"This was where you saw the… body, right?" She asked, searching his eyes.
Eren nodded. His teacher received them after a few minutes.
"Eren! Margot! I'm glad to see you!" Hange greeted them effusively and nudged them to get in quickly. Once they were inside the house, she seemed to appraise them in depth from behind the lenses of her glasses. "The meeting shouldn't take more than an hour, in case you have any other obligation."
"We have nothing else to do after this," Eren said, craning his neck from side to side.
"Good. Come, let's go downstairs," she turned on her heel and waved her finger for them to follow her.
They went down a hallway that led to the basement door.
"Do you still have the body?" Eren asked.
"Of course we have it. It's a valuable piece of evidence," Hange replied as she descended the stairs ahead of them. Some voices were coming from below. "Although not as valuable as Frieda Reiss herself would be. And it's not like we can risk going to the mausoleum to bring good old Fiona back to them."
"Fiona? Did you discover her true identity?"
Hange gave a weary, wry chuckle.
"We haven't found out anything about Fiona yet, and neither about Frieda."
Eren and Mikasa had held hands again as they went down. Mikasa noticed the teacher was glancing at them sideways with curiosity and a slight smile, but she didn't comment on it. They broke loose shortly before the small group of people sitting or standing around a table in the basement stopped chattering and stared at them, as if they were seeing an apparition at the bottom of the stairs.
First she met Levi, the spy, who had a sullen countenance as he drank tea in his own particular way and wore the same clothes she had already seen him in on the street. She identified Erwin Smith, the attractive leader of the Legion, as well as Hange's aide, whose name she couldn't remember. What she wasn't expecting was to see one of the girls who they had taken out from inside the cold meat wagon. Mikasa's eyes widened as she recognized the young ginger-haired woman.
"Petra?" She whispered, pale, while together with Eren they slowly approached the group.
She looked for the other girls, but there was only Petra down there. She was less haggard, with lively eyes and a fierce determination that she hadn't noticed before. Petra watched her, intrigued.
"You are… M, right?"
Mikasa nodded. Eren rested a hand on her lower back to signal her to sit in the chair Hange's aide was offering her by the table.
"W-what are you doing here?" Mikasa asked, casting an inquiring look at Levi and the others. "I mean... weren't they all going to be together in Krolva?"
"The girls are there, together, in a safe place in Krolva and with trusted people. They are better now, within what is possible. Heike sends me news by letter," confirmed Petra. "I'm here because I decided to join the cause of the Legion… I want to help. I want to get my father out of jail and see if I can get my life back later."
"Petra has been helping us with some information. Oh, and she also got a job as my cook," Hange added cheerfully. "She cooks better than Moblit."
"I never got paid for cooking," Moblit reproached in a low voice, frowning.
"You were being exploited," Levi muttered, putting the cup aside and indicating the stairs as he passed by. "Let's go upstairs, Mikasa."
"What? But I just came down."
"Where are you going?" Eren asked, standing next to her.
Levi glared at him.
"It's none of your business. You stay down here with the four eyes, their cooks and the eyebrows man."
Eren, notoriously taken aback by the aggressive tone with which Levi had addressed him, defied him.
"What you talk about with Mikasa may be none of my business, but whatever we talk about down here is, both for me and her. If you take her now she'll miss the details. And if there are decisions to be made about something, then-"
"Leave it, Eren," Mikasa let out a weary sigh and followed Levi, who had already started going upstairs.
Levi led her to Hange's kitchen, where he groaned about forgetting his cup downstairs. He poured tea into a clean cup and poured another one for her. He closed the door as if to prevent anyone from overhearing whatever they were going to talk about, which was difficult because everyone else had stayed in the basement. It felt like Levi was getting ready to start scolding her for something.
"Why did you bring me here?" She asked, without touching her tea.
"I was following you two for a long time today, trying to see if someone else did."
"How did you find us?"
"I have Eren's itinerary. Didn't he tell you?" Levi was definitely in a very bad mood. "I waited for you outside the house of his last patient before your romantic date in that fancy restaurant."
Mikasa blinked.
"I thought…" She swallowed hard as she settled into the chair and fiddled with the scarf. "I just felt that we were being watched and followed since we were on the bridge."
"Logical. Before that you were pretty distracted," Levi stared at her. His clear disappointment felt like lead in her stomach. "Two men got too close to you two and you only noticed it because one of them-"
"You saw everything," Mikasa hurried to say, bashful, leaning her elbows on the table and her face in the palm of her hands. "You saw us."
"Is that the only thing that worries you? That I saw you both?" He questioned in an irritated tone.
"No!" Her face was so hot her eyes had gotten glassy. "It's just that…"
"You've no excuse, Mikasa. I'd already realized that you and the idiotic brat were up to something, so don't think I was too surprised to see you snogging your faces off like a couple of horny little animals with zero capacity of self-restraint." Mikasa sank into the chair as Levi continued. "Much less after he accepted the fucking list. Although it seems that you two are taking it more seriously than necessary, don't you…? As long as you both agree to that, I don't care. It's not my damn business. I'm not gonna mess with your decisions in that sense, no matter how bad they are, but what I'm not going to accept is that..."
This was too embarrassing.
"List? Accept which list?" That was the only thing that didn't make sense to her.
Levi glared at her like she was poking fun at him.
"Don't fuck with me, Mikasa. You know which list I'm talking about. That's not the point anyway. I didn't bring you here to give you some prudish lecture about your snogging specifically with that perverted brat."
She shook her head, confused. She was beginning to feel uneasy.
"Levi... What list are you talking about?" She asked slowly and in an apparent calm manner. "What did you give to Eren?"
Levi's face darkened.
"So, he really hasn't told you shit about it."
A/N: I'm sorry guys... but maybe you'll never get that full het smut in this story because Levi might cut someone's precious D (RIP)
Also, we're finally getting closer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) to the core reasons why I decided to title this fic "Lawless" long time ago, like yeah, one of the reasons are the Ackermans themselves but ever since I conceived the idea of this story, I wanted to do some stuff in particular with certain characters. As I've said before, there are many scenes / situations you've already read and are gonna read later that were planned, outlined and/or actually written years ago.
I tried not to cut it after around 8k words - leaving the rest for the next chapter - even though I was so done editing and translating it lmao, all for the sake of making up for the wait and to gift you with a longer update before this weird-ass year ended. As always, any kind of feedback in the reviews is more than welcome~
Please, take care and have some nice socially-distanced end of this fucking year celebrations in the company of your loved ones. There's still some stuff worth celebrating, I guess. I'll try to "celebrate" a bit myself for the things I'm grateful for... and will probably end up crying both saddened and angry because of unfair stuff, for example, to get all of that shit off my chest.
I've been letting love in all its forms grow stronger within me every passing day, though, and keep on writing and sharing this story is one of my tokens of love; from me to myself and from me to you.
