Mikasa found herself drifting to the cusp of consciousness in the early morning, lured by the sound of eager, cheery birds dancing its way into the contents of her dream. She followed the staccato notes sleepily until her eyelids fluttered open.

It surprised her to see the warm glow of a gentle sunrise on the walls, melting into itself as pink merged into orange into yellow. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept in her bed until the morning hours. She was usually up far before the sun even breached the horizon, pacing her apartment, scarfing down unholy amounts of coffee to keep the exhaustion at bay, counting down the seconds until she could leave for her next assignment.

Her nightmares were very fond of chasing her away from a restful slumber. But last night they had been chained, held back by some grace of God - or an especially powerful sleeping tonic.

Sighing, she blinked a few more times, gathering her senses. It didn't take long for her to realize just how well rested she felt and how big of a difference it was from the walking stupor she had been in for the last few weeks. It made her smile, a simple action that felt very foreign and under-practiced.

A deep inhale from the other side of the bed made her jump. Turning, she promptly realized that Eren's arm was draped over her shoulder, veins prominent, fingers twitching in his sleep.

The events of the previous night came crashing down around her like a landslide. Eren's presence immediately deluged her wholly, showering her with his scent, his sound, and his warmth. Feverish heat from where his arm sat spread throughout her skin, leaving a telling blush in its trodden path. Mikasa felt as if something were crawling in her muscles, making her want to react in ways that they had already deemed inappropriate for the time being. She squirmed uncomfortably, unsure of what to do but feeling eager to scoot away from Eren. Falling back to sleep was out of the question now. But if she moved, he would definitely wake up, right?

"Good morning."

She jumped out of her skin again, whipping over to see a pleased Eren looking back at her, eyes glinting with mirth, a cocky half-smile plastered across his face.

"Since when are you so jumpy?" he chuckled, withdrawing his arm. Mikasa narrowed her eyes slightly, reluctant to let it go. The absence of his warmth was unwelcome.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, tucking his hand under his head. His sleepy eyes blinked slowly, attractively. Had his eyelashes always been that long?

"Good," Mikasa answered almost too quickly, voice breathy and weak from sleep. "I haven't slept that well for a while."

"I could tell," Eren agreed solemnly, lips pursing. "Despite her genius timing, I'm actually pretty grateful that Annie brought you the tonic. It knocked you out cold after that second dose."

"Yeah…" Mikasa looked down at her hands, ashamed. "I'm really sorry that you had to see me like that…"

"Don't," Eren said flatly, cutting the apology short. "I was glad to be there for you. I didn't mind. I used to do the same thing when we were kids, remember?"

Mikasa nodded, dwelling on her early days of night terrors. They always had to do with her parents being murdered. She had forgotten them, for the most part - they were locked away in a part of her brain that she didn't particularly enjoy visiting.

"Have you and Annie gotten close?" Eren asked randomly, trying to draw more small talk out of Mikasa and break the silence. He had had enough silence at the end of his life. All he wanted to hear was her voice. Every tone and inclination was music to him.

"A little," she responded. "I haven't given any effort into getting to know anybody. Being social has been very difficult for me. But… I am happy for Armin. He seems really happy. She's been here for him these past few weeks while I've been avoiding him. They work well together."

"Avoiding him, huh?" Eren asked, eyebrows raised, jumping back to Armin.

Mikasa nodded. "He's been too much. Always hovering over me, trying to get me to feel better." Ashamed, she averted her eyes from Eren's heavy gaze. "I've been terrible to him. I knew he was just trying to help, but I didn't want it. I just wanted to grieve and be alone."

Eren frowned slightly. "Do you still want to be alone?" he murmured, resisting the urge to pull away, forcing himself to face the intense, boyish fear of rejection.

"In a way."

His heart fell, teeth clenching.

"It's just…" Mikasa continued, thinking, "I don't want to be around anyone but you."

It was an astute answer, no room for wiggling. The needy, jealous little monster in Eren's heart grinned excitedly. His hands balled into fists, fighting the compulsion to seize her in his grasp and crush her to him.

"Eren," Mikasa implored, voice curious, "when are you going to tell Armin that you're back?"

Eren's blood ran ice cold in his veins, sending a spasm up his spine. The giddy joy he had felt a mere few seconds before vanished. A wall instantly rose to cut off the emotional swell. "I'm not going to," he stated, avoiding eye contact, clearly conveying his reluctance to discuss it any further.

Mikasa felt the frigidity of his answer and quickly disposed of the Armin conversation.

Within the moment of awkward silence between them, Eren suddenly realized how hungry he was. Seizing it as a lucky chance to change the topic, he poked Mikasa's forehead playfully. "Should we get some breakfast?"

Mikasa's automatic reaction was to turn the offer down without even thinking. It's what she had done for weeks, surviving only on small nibbles of food here and there when she could stomach it. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she had the tiniest sprout of an appetite. Smiling, she nodded and threw the blankets off of herself, sitting up in the same movement.

It was glaringly obvious, through that silken nightdress, that she had no type of binding around her chest, driving Eren absolutely wild and testing his self restraint in a way he had never felt before. Mustering every dreg of sanity he could find, he tore his eyes away and sat up, slyly pulling the blanket back over his lap to cover the evidence of his longing. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair and grinned when Mikasa looked back at him, pretending to be completely unphased.

"You look excited," he mused, eyebrow raised.

She nodded. "It's been a while since I've actually wanted to eat."

"Then get dressed," Eren murmured, "and we'll head out when you're ready. What do you feel like eating?"

Mikasa slipped from the covers, feet hitting the floor with a muted thud. "I'm not sure…" she sighed, stretching her arms above her head. Eren looked at the ceiling to avoid staring at her outline. "Maybe ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" Eren laughed incredulously. "That's not really a food, is it?"

Mikasa shot him a glare. "It sounds good… and you never got to try it with me."

The words stung. He always regretted refusing that offer. He shrugged incredulously, still chuckling to himself. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll get."

Mikasa opened her armoire, glancing over the outfits hung neatly in a row. There weren't many to consider. She wasn't much of a clothes person. She briefly considered a skirt, but tossed the idea aside when she glanced over her shoulder at Eren. He was much more attractive than she remembered - especially with his disheveled morning hair and lack of shirt. There was no way she could compare in a skirt.

Blushing, she looked away quickly and grabbed a pair of trousers she happened to know were skin-tight, gifted to her by Hitch. She had never worn them, finding them to be too uncomfortable, but… Hitch had said something about men finding these types of pants attractive. She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean - why would men find pants attractive? - but it wouldn't hurt. Pulling them down, she grabbed a button-up shirt that would go well with the outfit and closed the wardrobe.

"Could you close your eyes?" she asked Eren, holding up her clothing. "I could change in the bathroom if you don't want to."

"It's fine," he answered, turning to face the corner and covering his eyes with his hands.

"Thanks," Mikasa murmured, tossing the clothes onto her rocking chair and stripping down. Her heart began to beat erratically, but she couldn't fathom why… How many times had they changed in front of each other, conversations uninterrupted when they took turns closing their eyes?

But, in her memories of the cabin… it was different. She seemed to remember catching him brazenly devouring her with his eyes whenever she changed. He would lean against the doorframe, watching her, admiring every inch of her body, nodding in approval. She would ask him what he was doing, and he would smile that endearing smile, shrugging and stating how amazing she looked. She would smile back and thank him, and it wouldn't be long before his hands would be on her back, her breasts, her everything, blazing skin pressed against hers, the downy bed soft beneath them.

The passion she felt from a memory that had never even occurred in this life had her heart beating like a butterfly trapped in a net.

"Done yet?" Eren asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"N-not yet," she stammered, hustling to pull her bra into place. Snapping the brass clasps into place, she heard him laugh under his breath.

"What?" she demanded, now fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

"Nothing," he replied, the smile obvious in his voice. "You just sound nervous… like you think I'm going to look."

Mikasa laughed, trying to hide how dry her throat was. "Not much to see."

Eren watched as memories of the cabin flickered through his mind, Mikasa the highlight, always the highlight. Perfect clothed. Perfect naked. Perfect standing. Perfect lying beneath him, gasping his name.

"Bullshit," he murmured. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

It was ridiculous how quickly the atmosphere changed in the room. It was a dirty shift, an unchaste shift.

Mikasa couldn't remember specifics, but she knew that Eren had been a very sweet lover in their cabin memories. Always concerned for her, always making sure she was comfortable with what was happening. He treated her like something breakable, loving her passionately and slowly.

The Eren sitting here in her room was different. The energy she felt from him was molten, needy, and carnal. She hadn't overlooked the dark lust hiding behind his emerald gaze since he had come back, but she refused to acknowledge it. It made her feel things, intense things. She was sure that he could break her. Destroy her. It scared her. But deep down, it thrilled her.

Finally buttoning her pants all the way and trying to ignore how malnourished she felt, Mikasa chucked a discarded pillow at the back of Eren's head. "All done. Get dressed. I'm getting really hungry now."

"That hurt," he whined, finally turning around. "You'll regret that."

"You big baby."

Pretending to ignore the tension between them, Mikasa busied herself in front of the small mirror hanging from her wardrobe, pulling the back half of hair out of her face. Her bangs weren't quite long enough, but it was fine. She liked how they looked. Since they didn't use ODM gear any more, she didn't have to worry about her hair getting caught and had begun to grow it out.

"Your hair's gotten longer."

Eren's voice sounded low and smooth, tinged with something dark. Mikasa looked over her shoulder at him, hands busy pulling the elastic through the tiny ponytail. He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring her down brazenly. Her heart stuttered violently. Breaking beneath his appraisal, she turned back to the mirror. "Yeah," she mumbled simply, blushing. "No ODM gear, and my hair grows really fast."

She didn't look when he stood, choosing instead to have an extremely intense staring contest with herself in the mirror. She heard him walk to her, felt his heat against her back. Her heart was trying its best to leave her chest and make a run for it.

"Mikasa."

God. She couldn't resist that voice. It reached into her body and tugged at her soul. Inhaling sharply, she turned and looked up at him.

When had he gotten so tall? Her eyes flitted across his face, settling briefly on his lips before shyly making eye contact.

She wanted to melt into the shadows. His stare was unhinged. It was overflowing with fervorous lust, murky with what could only be desperate desire. His lips were parted ever so slightly, and she could hear the shallow breaths rushing from his lungs. He hadn't yet put on a shirt, and it took effort for Mikasa not to reach a tentative hand forward to caress the expanse of his chest.

He suddenly leaned toward her, cutting that thought off, causing her to take a fumbled step in retreat. Her back hit the wardrobe behind her at the same time as Eren's hand. He had her trapped, and he was close. If she leaned forward by a mere two inches, their lips would touch. Her eyes widened impossibly, bewildered. Eren's smell was ludicrously seductive; it was impossible to describe. His heat radiated against her, almost as if he were a furnace of raw emotions. And his eyes… they continued to smolder, scalding her with their intensity and honesty.

She began to tremble from the adrenaline, body tense, every part of her pressed as close as she could get to the wardrobe door. She felt like a small animal caught by a ravenous predator.

It was exhilarating.

Eren was at full blown war within himself. He had been prepared to hold back as long as needed, resolve steady and unwavering. But then she had gone and put on these godforsaken pants, clinging to her every curve, showing every line that led to every place he wanted so fucking badly to explore. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

As a matter of fact, he was sure she had no clue. She trembled beneath him, eyes wide, cheeks red. He could see how hard she was pressing herself away from him, and yet… there was something in her eyes. He wanted to believe that it was excitement, possibly desire, but he dismissed it.

His heart throbbed painfully, blood rushing in his ears. Biting his tongue, he dropped his head next to Mikasa's, forehead thudding against the wardrobe. Turning slightly, he breathed softly into her ear, contemplating how badly he wanted to sink his teeth into her shoulder and drag her hips to his. He wanted a repeat of last night - one where Annie didn't interrupt, where things escalated further than he could hope to imagine. But he had promised.

"You look beautiful," he whispered instead, lips barely skimming the very edge of her helix. Not waiting to see her reaction, he stood and turned away, grabbing his shirt from the bedpost and pulling it over his shoulders as if nothing had happened, preventing himself from doing something she probably wouldn't like. Plucking his jacket from the rocking chair, he pulled his arms through it and went to work on his own hair, holding the elastic between his teeth while dragging the strands into a quick, messy updo.

He took the chance to take a quick glimpse at Mikasa, who looked like she had been struck by lightning. Her mouth was agape, eyes big as saucers. He could see her shivering from where he stood, and he couldn't help but smile wickedly at how much of an effect he had on her.

"You ready?" he smirked, pulling his hood up over his head.

She came to her senses, nodding much more enthusiastically than intended. "Yeah, but… Eren, how are we supposed to get around outside without people seeing you?"

"I've gotten really good at hiding," he mused, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "At least I won't have to hack my own leg off this time."

Mikasa almost reeled in shock. "What?!"

"Forget I said that," Eren sighed, waving his hand dismissively. "It's just dark humor for my own sake. C'mon, let's go."

"Let me go first," Mikasa muttered, brushing past him to open the door. Before she did so, she paused and turned back around, reaching for a square of black fabric hanging from a hook in the wall, tossing it to Eren. "Put that on."

He caught it reflexively, turning it over in his hands. "What is it?"

"A mask," Mikasa murmured, trying her hardest to disguise the tremor in her voice. "It's similar to the ones we used to use cleaning up after the Titans in Trost, just better. Since the island gets a lot of guests from the outside world now, there's a lot of different sicknesses popping up. A lot of people wear these around town as a precaution. No one will think twice if you're wearing it. We'll still have to buy you some new clothes, though… And avoid anybody who knows you well enough to recognize your eyes…"

She left out the fact that she had received the mask while cleaning up the dead bodies of those crushed by the rumbling, their remains smeared around every one of the now empty wall locations.

"All right," Eren sighed, tying the mask around the lower half of his face. "How do I look?" he asked, pulling the hood back over his hair.

Mikasa nodded. "Yeah, no one will recognize you… Unless it's Levi or Armin. Possibly Annie. Jean, Connie, and Reiner are too stupid. Let's get you some new clothes before we get food, though; that outfit is just too obvious. You've had it for years."

"What should we do after we get food?" Eren asked, fiddling with the edge of the mask.

"Let's find a quiet place to talk. Not here, though, I don't want Annie or Armin to see you. Knowing how nosey they are, it's bound to happen."

Eren stared at the ground for a moment, his gaze far away. "Do you want to go visit the cabin?" he murmured bluntly, voice hesitant and soft.

The air rushed from Mikasa's lungs as if Eren had socked her straight in the stomach. Her legs almost gave out from under her, a feeling of euphoric, bittersweet agony zinging through her body. Tears instantly welled in her eyes. Habitually clutching at her scarf, she met Eren's eyes, searching them to see what he was feeling. They hadn't spoken to each other about the cabin yet. They hadn't brought up their alternate life, the four years of complete bliss lived at the river bank, days full of absolutely nothing but each other.

Nodding in agreement, Mikasa trembled, a small smile on her lips. "I would like that," she whispered.