Attack On Titan: Dreams

"Eren.... Hey.... Tell me what's wrong...."

In a blink, his fingers are cinched tightly around her wrist, and she whips her head up to look him in the eye, and he has no idea what to say next, or how to even begin to say all that he must, but in his panic to stop the downward spiral of this poor attempt at a confession, he begins with:

"Stop that."

Silence ensues as he searches her eyes, and they grow even more sorrowful, because he has said the wrong thing yet again, and he is left wondering why is he so awful at this.

So far, all he had managed to do was make it seem like he was about to lecture her, and make her feel worse, and he can tell as much from the way the tears are continuing to brim at their eyes, and at how her eyebrows twitch as though she is resisting the urge to fall to pieces in front of him which then shoot up to her hairline, eyes wide and panicked at the sound of a rapid-fire knock at her door, followed by a click and a sing-songy:

"Thank you," she says quietly, not even looking up at him.

Quickly, he blocks her path, and even then she refuses to look at him.

"We're not done talking," he says firmly, the ache of guilt swelling through him at the way she refuses to meet his gaze.

She maintains her silence, her mouth dropping open as she stares down at a patch of bedsheet between them, realizing why Eren was acting so odd.

"Eren..." Mikasa says quietly, defeatedly, eyes at his chest.

"I really don't know how to fix this, and I... I really want to... It's my fault... That all this happened.... The way I got inju...." she says, voice thick with frustration, in a way that makes his heart ache.

"There's nothing to fix," he replies, hoping it is the right thing to say but it is not because his tone is unintentionally gruff, and when she finally looks up to meet his gaze.

She looks so incredibly heartbroken that it makes his mouth drop ajar in shock, because he is hurting her even more and doing the exact opposite of what he is trying to accomplish.

"Mikasa," he says her name in a harsh whisper, panic taking over because he no longer knows what to say. He places his hands on her arms, fingers squeezing gently as he blinks rapidly, wishing he had even half the finesse and suave of his dream self when it came to saying things.

She opens her mouth to speak again, at which he immediately shakes his head sharply.

"Shut up," he blurts harshly, internally kicking himself at the reflexive reply because her face falls even more, and he is making it worse even though he didn't know it could get any worse, and now he is panicking inside.

He grits his teeth and exhales sharply through his nostrils, trying to gather his thoughts, mouth dropping open in the hopes that all that he needed to say would fall from his lips in an articulate deluge but, nothing comes because he is not good at this, and he doesn't know how to get her to understand.

But then, his eyes drop to her mouth and he does know how to make her understand the method she had so boldly used on him and his boneheaded self just days ago.

He is left scowling, and swallowing, his heart thudding in his ears, his internal monologue chanting, 'I don't know I don't know I don't know should I, I don't know' and he wonders how she had ever mustered up the courage to do what she had.

'How fucking hard it might've been just to brush your lips against mine... To convey your feelings... And look at me here... All pathetic...'

Steeling himself, he huffs out sharply through his nose once more, now all but glaring at her mouth, as he begins to lean forward. Almost immediately, he feels her muscles tense in his grip, her entire body going rigid, her previously sorrowful charcoal blues widening in bemusement.

Even so, she says nothing, remaining as still as a statue, no matter how much closer he inches not shifting, even when he is close enough to note that she is holding her breath.

And then the tip of his nose brushes hers, and he feels her ask, "What are you doing?", the words a tremulous, warm breath on his mouth, his heart a war drum banging violently in his ears.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing? It's your damn fault... All of it... And now I'm gonna make you pay for it..." he manages to whisper back, feeling as though he might pass out from all the blood rapidly rushing to his face.

His nose slides against hers in his torturously slow approach, his heart pounding against his ribcage, face hot, room hot, palms growing clammy on her sleeves yet, still, he is scowling in an attempt to cover up his nervousness.

"Ereh..." he feels her whisper onto his mouth, the single word shaky as though she is on the cusp of breaking down into tears. "You...."

The beginning of the next word is muffled and lost as he closes the space between them, decisively pressing his lips to hers, his eyes screwed shut as though he has just made an terrifying, yet exhilarating, running jump off of a cliff and into cold waters.

Yet, despite the shudder that runs up his spine, he is anything but cold because she is warm, so, so warm, her mouth soft and familiar, and the sensation is so pleasant, despite how her lips remain motionless against his, and how her body remains tightly wound in his hands.

It is after a few beats too long that her lack of reciprocation leaves him embarrassed and defeated enough to give in, his lips peeling off of hers slowly but then, her palm is soft on his jaw, fingers curling round the back of his neck as she holds him in place so that he only gets far enough so that the tip of his nose is at hers.

Eren then opens his eyes slowly to find Mikasa's downcast, directed at his mouth, before they flick up to meet his in a gaze that is all at once anxious and desperate and morose and confused.

The hurricane of emotion almost makes him feel sorry for kissing her but only almost because it is hard to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of her breath on his mouth, her nose sliding against his, and her hands soft on his face.

"Um~hm..." A soft escape her breathless mouth, she closes her eyes and pulls him in, her lips moulding to his, and he is instantly at peace with his bold decision, warmth pulsing through his entire being, because she is kissing him ever a silent force, powerful, commanding, yet tender, in a way that is completely and utterly Mikasa.

When her fingers slide into his hair, her mouth moving against his with frantic vigour he can barely keep up with, he can't help but think of how he once didn't care at all for this whole kissing thing and even found it repulsive and disgusting in concept.

But now it's all he wants to do, because it's her and it feels good so good that he slides his hands around her back to pull her even closer only to be torn from her warmth, when she pushes her palm against his chest, her other hand falling from his hair and resting gingerly on his shoulder.

His mind a jumble of euphoria and frustration, he opens his eyes to the sight of her flushed face, brow wrinkled in thought, her eyes veiled with unshed tears and directed at his chest.

"Hey," he whispers harshly in panicked confusion, leaning forward, his hands reflexively coming up to cup her face, yet a beautiful loving smile curves up his lips.

"Don't do this," she says in a cracked whisper, as though she is holding back tears. She attempts to shrug further back out of his hold, but he does not let her, his hands remaining affixed to her face as he leans in even further and presses his forehead to hers.

"Don't do what?" he asks, confusion only increasing, considering that she had just kissed him, and had seemed more than okay with doing so.

"You know "

"I don't, so tell me," he urges her, feeling her jaw clench in his hands, the way one does when biting back tears.

There is a prolonged silence as her breathing slows, as they both gather their bearings, the heat of the moment winding down.

Her shoulders slump in defeat, as she refuses to meet his eyes.

"Don't... pity me... Eren..." she whispers, brow creased into a slight scowl.

"What?" he whispers back incredulously.

"I know you, Eren," she says with a shake of her head, expression troubled as she bows her head to obscure his view of her face.

"I might've deluded myself about these things when we were younger, but you've never felt that way about me, and I know that. You just... "

"I want you," he retorts, the words tumbling from his lips with startling ease before he can catch them, even though just moments ago he was physically incapable of uttering them. In response, he feels her stiffen considerably beneath him.

"No, I know you.... I know Eren.... He's just doing this out of sympathy... Nothing else." she repeats firmly, shaking her head more emphatically, a tear trailing down her face, the image stabbing at his heart.

She lifts a hand to wipe the tear away, fixing her brow back into a stubborn scowl.

"You think you feel this way because you care about me and, well, you may not be nice, but you're kind, and even now..."

"I want you... More than anything...," he says again, slower, words drawn out as he tilts her face up to force her to look him in the eye. When she finally does, her expression is both defiant and helpless, eyes glossed over, and his heart aches.

"The last couple of days were hell for me... And it's all because of you... You've hurt me so damn badly... I've never felt so pathetic before... Those damn feelings of yours.. and that damn kiss is the whole reason... For... For all this mess.." he adds on softly, and she looks confused only for a split second.

"What? What kiss?" She whispers wide-eyed unable to comprehend anything and he looks at her thinking that she's just making fun or just joking with him, or was she mad? He smiles out of it and looks down for a while and sighs.

"Sorry..."

"Ere..." But before she could finsih he leans in his hands pressing against her scarred shoulders his lips meeting hers in the most passionate way that she gives in under his gentle touch. Their tongues entwined against each other, saliva dripping out and his thoughts are just fucked up, because her lips are so damn soft and it just feels so damn good.

But then she breaks the kiss and looks away her nose twitching. She grabs a hand he has on her cheek, meaning to pry it off as she shakes her head in exhaustion.

"Don't... Don't pity me... I know y—" she repeats defeatedly, now as though she is trying to convince herself, her eyes downcast once more, and his irritation flares at the stubborn denial despite his very best efforts to be honest and convey all that he felt.

"Fuck you..."

His frustration gets the better of him, because his mouth is on hers again. This time, she is completely still against him, her grip on his hand slackening slowly, the salt of her fresh tears tasted on his tongue.

He slides his fingers into her hair and pulls her closer in a plea of 'please believe me', and in a slow, borderline morose acquiescence, she begins to return his kiss, her shoulders beginning to slump in a 'no... maybe... perhaps', and it is not enough for him, because she is still hesitant and not at all the firecracker that had stung his lips and set his body ablaze just moments ago.

'Prove it prove it prove it,' is what her stiff limbs taunt, what the uncertainty in her kiss conveys, and because Eren Jaeger loves a challenge, he grips her silk raven locks and pushes his tongue into her parted lips, to prove it.

Then, he decides it must be working at least a little bit because she is beginning to slouch into his embrace, despite the unrelenting stream of tears dampening their kiss.

So he pushes further, to prove it more, and pulls back, his eyes fluttering open to peer down at the parted, wet, swollen pink lips that are hovering over his.

Purely by some instinctual pull, he presses a chaste kiss to them, before pressing another beneath her lips, his eyes sliding shut as he presses another to her chin and another and another and another ever so gently down the soft curve of her jawline

"Eren... Ereh... " She mumbles softly.

The resistance in her throat dying into a gentle gasp as his lips blaze a trail of fire down the warm flesh of her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, tongue flicking out onto the hot salt of her skin, something between a gasp and a moan fighting its way out from the back of her throat as she cranes her neck to give him more access.

Emboldened by her silent submission, he nuzzles the crook of her neck and suckles the soft flesh, a shaky exhale bursting from the back of her throat, and she is melting in his arms as she slides a hand around his back to grasp at his shirt.

He pauses there, pulling her into an embrace, brow knit in frustration, face hot from their shared warmth and his own boldness.

"Why won't you believe me?" he mutters against her skin.

She shifts the hand she has nestled in his locks to cup his cheek, and he pulls back just enough to be able to look into her dazed, grey blues, about to verbally insist that he wants her, once again.

But then, he forgets how to speak once met with titillating sight of her rose-tinged cheeks, her bra strap dangling off of her shoulder, her sleeve pushed halfway down her arm, a significant amount of snow white flesh exposed, and swelling pink where his teeth and lips insistently roamed.

A few seconds pass, and she does not reply, merely staring at him, hand sliding from his face to his shoulder, perhaps trying to process what has just happened.

"Tell me... what I have to do," he manages to muster, as she maintains her silence, staring at him in deep contemplation.

In her silence, he finds his gaze dropping down to her exposed skin every few seconds. Unnerved at his own newfound fascination with the imagery of her partially removed shirt.

He begins to tug at her shirt sleeve to cover up her skin once more, in an attempt to seem less perverse and maintain some semblance of respect until she halts him, with a hand on his wrist.

He then looks back up to find her eyes resolute, expression dark, his own eyes widening slightly in subdued puzzlement.

Then, she leans closer and dims his world completely with the push of her lips against his, the kiss rapidly ascending into utmost fervour as she pushes forward and forcefully tugs his wrist downward, urging him to peel the rest of her sleeve off.

He has half a mind to resist, but then she has his bottom lip between her teeth, her tongue flicking at it in a prolonged tug, and he decides that he must strip her faster. And so he does, shoving the sleeve off, before shoving the rest of her shirt off, greedily smoothing his palms back up over her firm, velvet skin.

Out of breath, his heart pounding hard, he pulls back briefly to open his eyes into hers, and he is unsure of whether he is more nervous or aroused at how they have darkened, and how they burn into him with all the intensity she possessed when zoning in on a target on the battlefield.

But then, she presses her palms down roughly onto his shoulders and begins to crawl onto his lap, and he decides it's aroused, because she has him kicking his shoes off in eager accommodation of the unspoken command, eyes locked onto hers as she straddles him, her heavy, heavy weight resting on his thighs as she sinks her fingers into his hair.

Roughly gripping at the tousled locks to tilt his head up to hers, capturing his mouth in an invasive kiss, and god, it is like a dream in fact it was a dream but, he finds himself thinking that she is better than anything he could have ever dreamt up, because her tongue is hot on his, weight bearing down on him in a way that makes him wrap his arms around her bare skin tighter, makes all the blood rush south, and makes him eagerly return her kiss as though she is his source of air.

Palm soft on his body, she glides a hand up his abs, his shirt riding up on her wrist, and he hisses as she halts the kiss and presses her forehead to his, nose turning against his as her fingers reach his chest.

"Take this off...."