just a second
Characters: Mikasa Ackermann, Eren Yaeger
Summary: Doubt is something they can no longer afford.
He knows that her eyes are full of accusations she would never voice. Not in this lifetime nor in the next. He knows what she is asking nonetheless as they have been together for too long. He knows the answer to the question she will never ask.
She is right.
He is too angry to be sure about this and too sad to see reason. He knows that his attitude, his constant switches from anger to silence and back confuse her, leave her thinking that she does not know him at all after all and he knows that it pains her. It hurts him as well. It hurts him that he knows that he is hurting her, again.
He does not want to but he is stuck. Stuck in the rain even though there is not a single cloud. Ironic. Then again, it has not rained during the battle of Trost either as he remembers. Still, for him, it is like riding through a thunderstorm, a thunderstorm that will not stop anytime soon.
Behind him, she shudders because it is cold. Of course, just like the rain, the cold does not really exist but what they have lost is more than an old friend. They have lost a part of their family. Again. And they are both tired of losing people. He knows that she will cry when no one will be there to see him, not even him.
They have joined to end the needless dying – or at least to be able to protect. And yet, they have ended up seeing even more people die.
Irony, again.
He looks over his shoulder and sees her wrapping the scarf even closer around her neck, so tight that it has to be chocking her by now. The red and the warmth the scarf symbolises seem rather washed out to him now and he considers making a new scarf because once upon a time, in a lifetime where no one has ever died in front of his eyes, his mother has taught him how but right now, there is no time for this. However, he wonders whether he should take it away from her and wash it. Then again, when has he ever seen her parting from the scarf?
Not since their early trainee days. Not since he has nearly failed to become a soldier. Not since he has accused her of babying him.
He knows why she is doing this. He is not Armin but that does not mean he is stupid either. He knows that she is scared of losing even more people she cares about. But even though he knows, he has no idea how to make her stop worrying so much. Otherwise, she will get into trouble, too.
After a ride that seems to take an eternity, he is helped of his horse and while people rush Jean and the others off to the hospital and a confused Christa, Historia, whatever her name is now is taken by an exhausted Moblit to meet up with the lance corporal and the squad leader, he stands on the yard, feeling lost.
"…we should go eat, shower and then to bed," she says in a low voice, her cheeks stained with something that looks like traces of tears and he hates that she has had to cry again.
It may rain around him but he still sees her clearly, her hands grasping the scarf. She is sad, angry and confused as well but if he cannot fix anything else, maybe, he can at least fix her. He holds out his hand and she takes it even though it has been a long time since he has actually shown this sort of affection and he hugs her before he aims for her cheek and accidentally kisses her lips which are cold and dry but still very much her.
"It will be fine," he tells her and he prays that it is no lie. "We will be fine. We will be together. Always. I have promised that, didn't I?"
She nods. "Thank you," she says and hides her blush within her scarf. She may have had intended to kiss him earlier when it has looked like they would die there and then but not dying instantly after a kiss was a nice experience as well. "Thank you, again."
He rolls his eyes. "Don't go sappy on me, you hear?" he asks. "Also, we should wash your scarf."
She grasps it even tighter as she hears his words. "I don't … I don't want to let go of it today," she admits. "It's home … and we lost another part of home today."
He sighs. "I am home, too, aren't I?" he asks.
Armin finds them later on, curled up on a bench, protectively holding each other. The scarf hung from a pillar, leaving a puddle of water on the floor.