Crimson
-Maya Salsa-
- IV -
Denial
- IV -
A vigorous pull it was. And with the sensation of contact creeping on his very own skin, Rivaille's mind went blank for a while. He couldn't move a single muscle—Couldn't even blow a single breath. Not with her clinging onto his waist like a brat.
Carefully, he discarded his lips from hers, staring at her plumped paired heus with half-lidded eyes. Debating whether he should forget about it or let the event sink in.
"Ah, shit," he muttered, feeling his cheeks slowly pinking. Hell, it was difficult enough for him to get maddened by her mere presence. How the fuck was he going to feel after that? The fucking kiss that wasn't supposed to fucking happen?
Shaking his head violently, he denied with dilated orbs. "That certainly did not just fucking happen."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took out a sharp breath as he rid himself off of her frail body. His brain still too clouded to think of anything—even forgetting his plan to make a glorious shower.
He couldn't think straight—Couldn't breathe properly—His heart pounded hardly on his chest—Even his sight were not of a great condition.
"She was drunk." He attempted to cool down with those words. He shouldn't react this way—like a common high school girl squealing as her first kiss was taken—Definitely.
"It was just a fucking kiss."
"Mikasa, wait!"
On cue, and perhaps, a tint of curiosity getting into her, she swerved her head around, in time to meet a brilliant pair of teals.
"Eren...What is it...?" She could only manage to question with such whisper, after finding her throat had gone dry by his sudden appearance.
It seemed as if he had ran for an eternity, nearly taking a minute to regain his composure and his steady breathing. Once his breathlessness had ceased, he looked straight up. "Do you have a minute?—I have something to ask."
Eren? Has something to ask?
"I...guess." She spoke, formally, like any other times.
In a split second, she could've sworn a flash of fear crossed his intense eyes—but ignored the thought as she saw his lips move. "I... I've been thinking a lot of what Armin had said."
Great. What the hell did he tell Eren this time?
Her silence persuaded him to continue. "These feelings... I've been getting these for quite sometime now ,and I thought; it was just my imagination...but when Armin told—"
"—What did he tell you?"
Mikasa's loss of her customary façade surprisingly took him aback. Sure she was always stoic and unrevealing, but... This wasn't the right time to show him that. Especially when he had to tell her everything.
"He—he caught me, Mikasa!"
Armin, that troublemaker. He's going to pay—
"Caught you on what?"
"He caught me falling in love with you!"
And she woke up just like that. Shaking off Eren and the tiredness in her eyes, she prompted to lay up, still squinting from the headache that ate away her .What the hell had she been doing to make herself so tired? Every muscle tensed and screamed with her every move—her eyes still adjusting from the undesired bright intrusion of lights...?
Her gaze came foggy as Mikasa unlocked her once ceased lids. The blurred vision restrained herself to plop her body in a sitting position, and her back screamed for comfortability, demanding a position much over her limits. Sighing, she differed the throbbing sensation climbing at her abdomen, and braced the incoming ache. It took all of her strength to finally sit up casually, she stood, striding her way to the bathroom, trying her best to ignore that powerful head killer, her arms, her slender legs—her body entirely. As her hand angled the knob clockwise, she caught the door moaning at her entrance. The unbelievable emerging steam opened her concealed vision as it greeted her with an unusual warmth. What's going on...What the...
"Learn how to knock. At this rate, you'll be the next Hanji."
Surprised by the utter familiarness of one's voice, she peeked her eyes, enlarging as it went in sync with her horse powered heart. The fu...
Rivaille?!
—How in the hell—How the fuck did he...get in here?!
—Nothing still processed in her brain. No. This has got to be a dream, she convinced her trembling self. It had to be. She sharply breathed in, but it was so realistic.
His voice intruded her trials of keeping herself in control. "Go the fuck ahead and pinch yourself. You're not dreaming."
Shit. Everything suddenly flashed and clicked.
"Refill please," she slurred, head slumped on the counter top as she foretold her request.
"Wow, I'm surprised you're onto your sixth. Usually, our female costumers die out on their second." The freckled woman raised her brow. "Here."
"Thanks. Oh yeah," Mikasa snorted, musing at the company. "I've been practicing a lot."
"Tough soldier you are." Skeptically, the woman observed her after the conservation calmed. "You don't look like you're from here. Going to a place or what?"
Mikasa coughed, gesturing the woman to give her another round. "My asshole of a boss happened. I'm passing by to drop some files off. Is all."
"Oh? Then, shouldn't you get rather goin—"
"—Who cares? He's a fucking prick."
It was the server's turn to snicker. "Looks like he holds a special place in your heart."
"Yep, up my asshole." She muses carelessly. Hearing the crowd turn wild behind her, she stood up.
Screeching, she hooted. "Raise your glass if you're a heartbroken bitch like me!"
Consciously, as her jaw clenched and the skin of her arm was grasped under the hold of her thumb and index, she managed to pinch herself.
Oh, shit.
"Oi, quit spacing out. Geez, do people still have manners nowadays?"
Rivaille's voice trailed her thoughts, shutting them off completely. Lids rapidly blinking and palms started to release stress of sweat. She spoke, confusingly, "S—sorry."
When she didn't move, he cocked an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you going to move? I'm going nude in a second."
She left the room before Rivaille could count to one.
He said he would do anything to fix his mistakes, didn't he? Then why the hell is he just standing there?! The door could open any seconds, now, but then again, it wouldn't, like it had been for the past hour. His calls were total hopeless trials as none were picked onto. His sighs... how many had he made since he planted his presence before her entryway? His eyebrows, how long had they been intertwined with such enmity... and distress? His hands, had he always had this strength to clutch onto things? This sensation stung his heart, familiar as it was, it pricked his inside being, as he reminisced her words that haunted his mind ever since that night.
"I even loved you more than I have ever loved my family!"
"...Don't you get it? I said it's over!... I can't do this anymore. And obviously you can't either..."
He should have seen it all coming! Of course, this has to be expected. This was always how karma had worked. Stabbing people as they've got their backs turned away ...but... That night... It was supposed to be the night...
"Good on you, Eren. You've finally grew some balls." His friend's laughter infected his own lips.
"What can I say? I learned these all from you, Armin."
"Right," his sigh released a distressed blow over the phone, but returned to its casualness as he spoke his greeting. "But really, dude, congratulations!"
"Yeah... Thanks! Actually," Eren's monotone flattened, it sounded as if he was hesitant— as if he was afraid. Afraid of what, though? " You're the only who knows this..."
And even if they were distances apart, Eren could predict the roll of the champagne haired man's orbs. "Eren, you know I won't leak anything. I know for myself because, you've worked your butt off to make it through this far. I'll say the words I know you want to hear..."
"What a smartass..." Mumbling through his gritted pearls, Eren wished inwardly for the arrival of his best friend's words.
"I won't tell anyone... Not even Historia." Armin said all throughout the silence. "Are you happy? There, I said it."
"Would you look at that, my comfortability with this telephone conversation has sky rocketed." His azure pairs danced, surely his excitement was apparent. "Hey, when can Mikasa and I meet your girl... Historia, you say?"
"When things get settled down. It will take an assured month to find a place of my own."
Eren smirked, Armin was always working himself to the bone. The lad surely needed a proper break. "Well, hurry your ass up. We can't wait forever."
"Oh, yeah? What about you? When will you ask her?" Armin shot back with a laugh. "College is a one hell of a schedule eater. How are you going to manage both of your busy lives?
Eren sighed. "I know that." Without a stumble with his said words, he proclaimed. "That's why I'll do it tonight."
But she never appeared in his view...
Screen fully smudged accompanied with a disbelief expression. Was it the seventh... or eighth time had he played her number over and repeatedly on his cell? It didn't matter. What composed of his problematic situation was Mikasa's reject on every single one if his calls. And with the time set eleven past one (in the morning) didn't better the echoing thoughts that were full of nothing but negativity.
'Why hasn't she answered any of my calls?'
What exactly had she been doing all night to ignore his efforts?
Paranoid as he sounded, the thought of Mikasa being a part of an accident scene crossed his mind. Of course not. He smacked himself. Mikasa would never be in a sinister position. Not when he needed her right now.
No.
Wait.
What...
What...if she was with another man?
...Could it be Jean?
Stop it.
Mikasa would never betray him like that. She loved him, oh so dearly. And if he wanted solid proof, he could always review the moments of the eye contacts they did. Her charcoal orbs burning into his lovely sea settled eyes. He sensed no speck of regrets of her exchanged lovely stares. Nothing that involved being unfaithful blending into her black wondrous glance. Nothing questionable, nothing bad, nothing. It was nowhere near of what he done...
Annie...
He was going to end it.Everything has got to stop.
He had a well-planned future. A job, a home, children, Mikasa...? Of course, an ongoing twin-year relationship, and a childhood friendship as its back-up, surely, going out and marrying Mikasa would not be a mistake—It won't ever be a mistake. She was perfect. This should be the time. How overjoyed could she be once she faces a bent knee and will be asked a question she will, no doubt, accept?
She deserved this.
Doesn't she...?
Of course, she did.
And that's why he's doing this. Sharply cutting off everything with Annie. Because he is now able to stand alone, again. Without any aid from anyone. From Annie.
Everything will end.
'Mikasa... where are you?'
And the same question ran through his tongue right there and then.
He finally gathered his insecurities and lifted his knuckles for a ginger knock. To no avail, there was no response. As expected.
He should just give up. After all, Mikasa had gave up on him—
'Fuck, no. Of course not. This is my fault. I can't turn back now. I... love her...'
Fix it, stupid bastard.
And he will.
She had only grasped the idea of having the knowledge of where she was, when she breathed an enormous breath—in attempt to control her composure that had been cracked. The scent wasn't in her familiarity, it wasn't in any of her zone. Mikasa was aware of her own smell.
The manliness, this overpowered, possessive essence... It was a first to be in a man's room, rather than Eren's or Armin's. This very moment, this very time... she's under Rivaille's roof.
Thinking of the man makes a sick twirl in her stomach. Of all people...
She wouldn't dare flinching if the aftermath resolved of her receiving an invitation to exit her job. She was tasked to do something, and clearly, she failed. What the hell was she thinking, back then? Those requested files were probably worth more than her li—Wait.
Fuck.
The documents.
Where the hell—
All of a sudden, a quick flash of the desired envelope sitting innocently of the bar's granite counter top crossed her already chaotic thoughts.
"Shit," she could only grimace as she grabbed the most convenient sweater hanging in the entryway closet. Could this day get any fucking worse?
"What are you doing here, Eren?"
"Shouldn't I ask the same question..." He cocked a brow. "Sasha...?"
She upraised her eyebrow as well, the man's cockiness has surely fueled up. "Oh? Are you giving me attitude, now? After what you've done to Mika—"
"—Shut your fucking mouth. You don't know anything!" He barked. "I know you're the one who told her, Sasha."
"And if I was? Would that change anything?—Would that change the fact that you're a cheating bastard?—Would that fix Mikasa's broken heart?"
Dammit. She hadn't confronted him ever since the incident. And after what she said, it pricked him. She hit the fucking jackpot.
"Yes! I admit it, dammit! I made a huge mistake! I—I did! Does that make the situation better?!"
Sasha looked away, not apprehending his emotions to spill on the spot. "Of course not, Eren. You deceived her—No. You deceived everyone. You lied to Mikasa—To us, your friends—You—you deserve everything that's coming your way—"
"—She still loves me, Sasha!" He intervened aggressively. "And I do, myself!"
"Then why bother cheating? Why did you bother doing that?" She hissed.
"I..." His teal orbs rolling onto the floor, "I was afraid."
The squint of her eyes emphasized her churning anger. "Afraid of what?" She bit on the last word. "You know Mikasa loved you with everything she had. How the hell could you doubt that?"
"I was scared she would leave me—
"—That's bullshit, Eren. You're so fucking dense." Her scoff didn't go unnoticed. " You and I know very well that Mikasa wouldn't dare do what you're so paranoid about."
His voice cracked—perhaps they've gone a little too far at such time in the morning. "You...you don't understand."
"The feeling is utterly mutual, Eren. I don't understand you, either." Sasha spat.
He...had nothing else to say. Sasha was right. He fucking ruined everything. It was all his fault. Wasn't it enough, already? He was tired of being blamed for everything. He already admitted his fault, why don't they understand his fucking part as well?—Does he have to fucking bleed and beg on his knees?
"Well, that was a waste of an hour." Sasha's voice reentered his mind.
Looking back up, he saw her track down the elevator. Was she not staying longe—Did that mean she was looking for Mikasa, as well?
"S—Sasha!"
"I'm not lending you any help, Eren."Her reply had a sense of nonchalance. She didn't even bother connecting her gaze. "Figure it out yourself, asshole."
The familiar sound of the entrance bell rang through her ears as she carelessly dashed to the counter top. Nothing smelled like pure liquor lingering in the bar she had herself occupy the other night—The acidic scent brought back recollections of what her fumbled form did during the twilight of yesterday. Her lonesome entrance attracted eyes, mostly from the early bird customers comfortably lingering around the corner couches or the countertop her eyes had laid on as her gaze recognized the glowing beauty from the last night.
"Miss?" Mikasa wanted to reach for her shoulder, but was restrained from her throbbing headache. Damned hangover.
The person's response was to twirl her shoulders. "Yes—Hey. Aren't you the drunk miss from last night?"
"Yes." Mikasa messed with her hair of blackness as she sighed sheepishly. "Last night, when you guys were cleaning up, did you happen to spot a brown envelope? I recall having it lying around over the counter."
"Hmm," she toned down. "I don't remember seeing one." She looked up to meet a slumped expression. That folder might have meant a lot to pose such saddened aspect.
"Ah, is that so?" Mikasa's voice croaked a little. "Then—"
"—Hold on. I can ask Ymir."
"Ymir...?"
The blonde could only pass a natural smile as she went on to the back. The curtains concealing the opposing side wavered as her frail body plunged into them. A few murmurs could be heard at Mikasa's distance—or she happened to be a keen listener—before that same yellow faired woman came out of the rouge sheets. Her eyes seemed to lighten when she spoke back at Mikasa once again. "She's coming."
Mikasa waved off, relieved for the assistance. "Thank you."
"Glad I could help," the blonde bartender replied. She paused awkwardly while her skillful hands proceeded her unfinished task from the night prior. "Last night..." Her foot shifted uncomfortably. "We...were very busy...Thanks to you, we succeeded and got the raise."
"Is that so?" She questioned, patiently. "You guys deserved it," Mikasa delivered a smile.
"Uh..." Cheeks darkened with chagrin. "It's—so weird holding out a conversation without knowing each others' names—What's...what's your name, miss?"
Her obsidian orbs flashed, amused at the ponderous bartender. "Ah, it's Mikasa. What's yours?"
"His—
"Geez, why am I so forgetful? It was at the top on the fridge all along," the incoming voice exclaimed, the sign of exhaustion obvious with their monotone. "I found it, Historia."
"Thanks," Historia's pearls glistened. "You made Miss Mikasa all worried for taking so long."
"Miss Mika—Hey, that's the lady from last night!" Ymir pointed without doubt.
"Yeah, she had to come back for that folder." Cheerfully, she replied.
"So, you're Ymir?" Mikasa confronted.
The said individual smirked. "And, you're Mikasa?"
Historia snapped. "Ymir, you don't talk informally to our customers like that!"
"Oh, come on, she basically looks like our age." She wheeled her eyes. Historia and her manners. "If so, formalities aren't required." Her freckled cheeks curved as she scoffed. "I agree with what you said last night, though."
"I said too many to recall whatever you're referring to." Mikasa curiously said.
"Yours boss—like how he's a prick. Did you see him last night? He pushed Historia!"
The blonde shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. I understand why he did that."
"There you go again, trying to understand assholes." Upset shoulders were crossed after handing the folder.
"Thanks," Mikasa consciously said.
"So that was your boss, huh?" Inwardly, Ymir smugged.
"That short one, yeah, he is." she answered—speaking of which—she should probably get going. "—Anyways... I should go now. He's probably looking for me."
"Eh? You guys live together?" Ymir began. "Never heard of that kind of situation before..."
"N—no. It's not like that!" Mikasa shouted too suddenly, a few eyes boarded at their side of the bar at her raised volume.
"Mind if I ask where you got your shirt?" She continued. "Doesn't look your size."
Already embarrassed, she let her eyes travel down onto her chest. What is she talking about—Oh, no.
"Ymir!" Historia slapped her friend's elbow. "Stop teasing our customers!" Her eyes met Mikasa's hesitant pairs. "I'm sorry, Miss Mikasa, for causing you enough trouble." Repeatedly, Historia bowed, and as she did, she sent a warning nudge to Ymir to do the same.
Mikasa fought the spreading rosy tint on her cheeks as she complied with reassurance. "That's...all right."
"Ah, well, it was nice meeting you, Mikasa," she could feel Ymir's smug face behind her back as she strode for the exit. "Drop by whenever your boss pisses you off, again!"
She didn't look back. Didn't risk anything coming out of Ymir in regards to her flushed cheeks.
"Ah, and I was wondering where you went off to."
The door clicked gingerly behind her. "I...the documents, sir." Her eyes wondered below as she gave up the files.
"I don't fucking need them anymore, thank you very much." He sighed with distress.
"But..." Mikasa lost her retort the minute they connected gazes. She never got lost in the eyes of such emptiness—made her shiver to think this man brought her to his room, last night.
"What? At a loss of words, already?" Rivaille still stared. "To think you have a position at a company where failure is not tolerated." He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How the hell did you get in under Erwin's nose?"
"I...don't know,"she continued to avoid his fixed glare.
Talking to this woman made his blood boil. Very. "Tch." He turned to his back. "Breakfast in ten. And take a goddamn shower."
"She's fucking impossible," he murmured by himself. "Acting all naïve and shit. That act is old."
Troublesome.
She caused too many in such short amount of time.
Firstly, when she addressed him as an asshole. Their first association, ever. She dared insulting him, though the fault were truthfully hers and deserved to be placed onto her shoulders.
Secondly, when that damned Hanji, or should he say, Erwin, involved her in that secretary nonsense. They already had bad impressions on each other.
Then, last night. His request was so goddamn simple, how the hell could she mess up that badly? And how the hell did she end up getting drunk? To top it off, the kiss...That kiss.
"Fuck," he hissed when he dropped the tomatoes at a high proximity—feeling the scorching water onto his skin—the result of his lost of thoughts.
Calm down.
Last night meant nothing.
If she can manage to stomp all over his place without getting flustered about last night, then so can he.
Just, who the hell does she think she is...?
That bastard.
Why does he have to be such an asshole?
At least she managed to bring back those important papers. Not even a damn thank you coming out of his mouth.
She was a mess, she had to admit. And she despised her position.
"Last night," she hummed with empty curiosity, her hand carefully planted on the mirror's sink. "What happened?"
"That shirt doesn't look like your size."
Oh, god.
Did something happen last night?
No...It couldn't be.
Rivaille never seemed to take interest in her in any way shape of form—he treats her more like a dog, or a sworn enemy, to be firmly precise. She wasn't a vulnerable woman herself, too. No way in hell would she let him dare plant a touch on her. Ever.
"He's not even my type," she reluctantly discarded that shirt.
This was Rivaille's, isn't it...? Her brows intertwined.
She slapped herself. 'Stop it.Whatever the hell you're thinking, just stop.'
Damn. All this thinking gave her a headache.
Rivaille. That damned man. She cursed, the lack of attention made the water switch turn to ice cold, and she blamed that fucking man.
Just, who the hell does he think he is?
"Thank you for the meal, sir."
He was greeted by her calm voice and the screeching sound of her chair. Rivaille's back still faced her as he plopped the used utensils in the sink. As he turned around—his breath caught onto his throat. He could only narrow his eyes as he approached the dining table. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
She slid her head sideways. "What did I do...?"
"You're only wearing a fucking towel. What the hell is wrong with you?"
'He is seriously misunderstanding some things here', her eyes rolled at the back of her mind. "I'm wearing your shirt,sir, it just… got wet in the shower."
Rivaille mindfully released the breath he held. "Could've told me sooner." He cleared his throat. Fuck. He drew in another sharp breath. Why is he reacting so much? It was normal to react such way when a woman is only wearing that piece of washcloth right in front of him. Right?
"Sir?"
He jolted, thankfully, his hesitance and loss of composure weren't clear for her to notice. "What?" He hissed.
"I apologize for what I did last night," she suddenly stood up—her eyes looked all too seriously. "I acted out without considering my part in that situation. Apologizing may not be enough to make up my mistakes. But—"
"That's right," he overlapped. "But what's done is done. I don't need any more of your apology. It's just a waste of time. I'm tired dealing with bullshit like these. Just make sure you don't make the same fucking mistake. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir, I will make sure that I won't make any more mistakes." She bowed, her features softening. Since when was he this considerable?
"Tch, enough with this already." He looked unimpressed when she searched for his gaze. "Just finish your fucking meal. I already called, Hanji is expecting us in less than half an hour."
"Yes," she sat back down. "Thank you, sir."
"Ah, that's right," he spoke afterwards. "Your clothes, I washed them. They're in the guest room."
Unseeingly, she caught her cheeks betray her as they warmed up with the sudden topic. That meant he undressed her while she was unconscious, didn't it…?
"Oh, sir… Please be gentle~"
She saw him smirk as she looked up to his deadly eyes. "Someone's impatient."
'Stop it!' she stomped on herself. She was becoming a delusional freak. Not to mention, a ferocious pervert. Why the hell would something so gross enter her mind? Rivaille is her boss for kami's sake! She despised every inch of that man! He treated her nothing but a following dog. He basically spat on her at work. She shouldn't think about such things after his mere unusual act of kindness. Of course he had to take her in. Where the hell was she supposed to go? Especially when she had something valuable to him in her hands. It was a logical thing to do.
'That's right. He did this for work purposes. And only for that reason.' She unconsciously slammed her hands on the glass, pristine table. "Ugh." She made her way to the sink, dropping off her bowl with an obvious annoyance. "I'm changing, sir. Thank you very much for the meal."
Of course he noticed how she tiredly dragged her feet out of the dining room. 'What the hell is wrong with her this time?' He thought, standing on his own as well. 'Must be that son of a bitch; hangover.'
"Ah, so you've only decided now to return my calls." Sasha voice sounded strained—the place wasn't appropriate to lose her composure. She was still at Mikasa's apartment reception. And she just really did wanted to stay calm under all circumstances. But for Mikasa to be messing around at a time like this…! "Tell me, missy… Where the hell have you been?!"
"I'm so—"
"No! You don't know what I've been through all night!" She exploded and Mikasa heard her friend sniff. "I called you more than a million times last night, and another million this morning! I even went to your apartment to check if you were there… and… and then—"
"—Sasha, I'm fine now. Thank you," she reassured cooly.
"Where have you been all this time, Mikasa? Why did you suddenly disappear?"
Mikasa sighed, suppose she should tell Sasha right away—she was worried after all. "If I answer, promise me you won't misunderstand?"
"Is something wrong?" Sasha's worry grew, and it was evident with the voice she asked.
"I got drunk last night—"
"—EH?! I thought you were supposed to drop some important files at mister vice-CEO's place?"
"I know and I did. I'm at his place right now."
"You dropped by while dru—WAIT WHAT?!"
Of course Sasha would react like this. Mikasa could only roll her eyes. "I told you, don't misund—"
"Wa—I thought you hated him, Mikasa?! Since… since when were you interested with older guys?!"
"Sasha," Mikasa snapped. " Calm down. Nothing happened."
"Oh, sure nothing happened!" Sasha sounded unconvinced by the slightest. "You were drunk, you couldn't possibly know what happened last night when he took you in!"
"Sasha, please," Mikasa attempted to cool down the heated conversation. "Listen to me."
Sasha ignored her warning. "Just—just look at how he looks at people. It's scary! How can you get attracted at such thing?!"
"I don't like him, Sasha…" She assured calmly, if only Sasha would stop interrupting and listen!
"Now what? Are you denying everything?" Sasha gasped. "Are you on his side, already? Don't tell me you guys did it last night!"
That's it.
"Sasha," Mikasa called out intimidatingly.
Immediately, her friend stopped. Woah. "I'll—I'll stop now."
"Good." Her hand rubbed her aching forehead. "I…have to go now."
"—No, wait, hold on. Mikasa, do you want me to pick you up? Tell me his address so I—"
"It's fine, Sasha." She assured. "I can handle myself. Thank you."
"Are…are you sure?"
Mikasa smiled. "Yes."
"Well then… see you at work?"
"Yup. See you."
Eavesdropping. Yes, that's what he has been doing. He wasn't going to sit around anymore. He had to do Sasha was the closest thing to grasp at when it came down to Mikasa, he had no choice. Right after the elevator closed, shutting Sasha's appearance right in front of him, he instinctively dashed to the stairs. He will do everything in his will to see Mikasa once again. He had a lot to say—had a lot to apologize for—he couldn't lose this chance. He needed to see her.
He didn't know why he decided to trail Sasha's prints, but he knew he just had to fix everything.
Fortunately, he still managed to spot Sasha all in the mixture of the building's business. She was still lingering around the reception area. That definitely meant she was looking for Mikasa as well. Jackpot.
She kept stomping in circles with nothing but worry, plastering onto her scrunched features.
Sasha seemed utterly concerned. Did something happen? 'Does she not know where Mikasa was?'
He stayed in the same position for the next ten minutes. Maybe tailing her wasn't a good idea. The girl hasn't moved ever since she circled the couch area for a couple of times.
Eren sighed. Maybe he should just get going. After all, this was getting hopeless.
He peeked at Sasha one more time, finding her in the exact spot she was on as he laid off his eyes off of her. Following her was useless. He just had to move on his own to resolve this problem.
Walking towards the exit, he carefully bowed his head, attempting to avoid anymore of her attention.
"Ah, so you've only decide now to return my calls…Tell me, missy, where the hell have you been?!"
He stopped dead on his tracks. Hearing Sasha suddenly talk like that—it's got to be Mikasa!
Gingerly, he neared Sasha's place—
"Where have you been all this time, Mikasa? Why did you suddenly disappear?"
Mentioning Mikasa's name for him drew away his clouded, doubtful mind in an instant. This was his chance, after all.
"EH?! I thought you were supposed to drop some important files at mister vice-CEO's place?"
He listened carefully.
"You dropped by while dru—WAIT WHAT?!"
And carefully…
"...Since… since when were you interested with older guys?!"
Sasha was starting to not make sense at all….
"...How can you get attracted at such thing?!"
What…?
"Don't tell me you guys did it last night!"
WHAT?!
No. This couldn't be Mikasa she was talking to right now, is it? Because surely, she wouldn't do such things Sasha had just mentioned. Right? Oh, no...
"No, wait, hold on. Mikasa, do you want me to pick you up?…"
Mikasa.
Oh, shit.
Fuck.
Had she really moved on? That fast?
Eren's chest pounded hardly as a thought crossed his mind.
With who?
—And that was when Sasha's words finally clicked.
Mikasa being lost. Something involving that vice-CEO guy—Shit—It couldn't be!
Mikasa and…Sir Rivaille?!
- Fin -
Crimson
Maya Salsa
- IV -
進撃の巨人 © 諫山 創
And the list continues on! Thank you, lovely people for showering me with reviews full of thoughts regarding the last chapter. They really help me out, not to mention motivate me! Thank, again! With that, I can happily say chapter four is completed!
Guest(3)
Guest(2)
Evil Is Gone Until You See Me
VeroSev
areumwayo*
NadiaEdenTasyaSoputan01
PrincessLemondrop
Pandora. Gray
tenten18*
corneyredpanda
SuperSegovia123
Guest
Lightmaycry*
MademoiselleKraut
HeavensPeak
featherelly ermergerd*
Plate Captain*
gamerkid137
This is updated version. Revised on April 2015.
Word Count: 5, 707