"Can I hold your hand?" Eren asks as they're walking along the road in town. Mikasa looks down at his hands, grimy and dirty, his fingernails caked in mud.
"My hand?" Mikasa asks, her face turning a shade of pink. She's only just turned eleven and she's never held hands with a boy before, let alone Eren. She looks at his outstretched hand and notices he's not blushing but instead staring at her with curiosity.
"Why?" she asks, hesitantly reaching out to grasp his hand. Her hands are cleaner than his and she can feel the layers of grime rubbing off onto her.
"I just want to, you know, get used to it," he says, tugging her along behind him. "One day we're going to have to hold hands with the person we marry, right? We should just get used to it now."
Mikasa considers his question, holding his hand with a little more confidence as she answers, "I guess that makes sense." She wonders if he notices the way her hand tightens around his fingers, the way she leans into him just a little.
When they're close to his house, he lets go, but is startled when he feels her hand grapple for his again. Surprised, he looks back at her and says, "Are you okay? You look kinda red! We're almost home so you can rest."
Ducking her head she murmurs, "I just wanna hold your hand a little longer."
Eren tilts his head just slightly, his cheeks flushing a little, as he replies, "Okay, but only because we're practicing for when we're older, right?"
"Yes," she agrees, lacing their fingers tighter, "just so we're practicing for the person we marry."