Straight Into A Storm ✖
The images won’t leave. How red Eren’s face had gotten, teeth clenched so hard in-between his screaming it was a wonder they hadn’t shattered, and his eyes. He was so furious, felt so betrayed that he couldn’t blink back the tears fast enough. The argument itself was a bit of a blur. Too much shouting and collar grabbing going on to really remember how it went exactly; for that, Jean was thankful for. But he couldn’t forget what it was about entirely, how could he?
Her brother was just looking out for her, he thinks now. When his mind isn’t fueled on anger. When it’s too late. Eren wanted Mikasa to have nothing to do with their family ties, for her to get involved with him would have made that near impossible. Jean had been selfish, fought back on the brunet’s demands to leave her be, to pursue some other girl instead. Someone he couldn’t care less about. Someone who wasn’t his sister, and why. Why did it have to be his sister?
In an ideal world, Mikasa wouldn’t have been connected with the one person that Jean could clash with on almost everything they’d discussed. But they were friends, somewhere down the line of their time knowing each other, somewhere passed the childhood fights and quarrels, they’d became friends. Brothers, almost. Built on their respect for each other, which was something Eren had used in this fight. If Jean truly respected him, he said, he would stop sniffing around Mikasa. He wouldn’t drag her in this mess, too.
But he loved her, that’s what Eren couldn’t understand. If it were anything lesser than that then yes, he could have easily washed his hands of anything to do with Mikasa; he would have done so simply to keep the air cleared between himself and the Jaeger heir. He’d tried to explain, tried to tell him he can’t just forget about her and anything they might have been working toward but there was so much fury in the dispute that listening stopped happening on both ends. And they fought instead, they fell to their younger years’ way of dealing with disagreements. It was an accident.
He pushed too hard. That stupid bastard couldn’t regain his balance fast enough, he shouldn’t have followed him up those stairs in the first place, why couldn’t he have just listened.
“I bet he’s laughin’ now,” Jean says into his glass, twirling the gin around the bottom and purposefully avoiding Marco’s gaze. For all that he’s told, the most he’s told anybody about it since it happened. Funny, how a matter of days can feel like an eternity when he’s running away from his life’s mistakes. He wants to sleep but he just can’t. “Not only can I not see her but she hates me, too.” The liquid disappears in the back of his throat, glass dropped back down to the table with a clang. Even in death, “The bastard still wins.”
“You look like shit,” Marco says, stating the obvious and presumably deeming that the best thing he can say about it all. Jean just scoffs, dryly, and then sits his face in his hand. “What do you expect?” It’s not as though he’s proud of any of this. For once, “I don’t know what to do. I’m listenin’ to my mother—” Of all people, “—doesn’t that give you some clue?
All Marco can advise for him is to try and get his head down. Give him a couple of hours to find him a place to go, a permanent residence where he can erase his life, start afresh, get an alias even. They guy’s a whizz, really. But even after all that, he can’t wipe his memory. It’s something though, was Marco’s answer for that, it gets your mother off your back.
She had seen Eren that morning, she remembered the small fight they had, the way he was always trying to “protect” her when in reality he wanted to control how much she knew, what she was involved in and who she hung around with. When they had been younger it had been endearing, she had loved that he was trying to do what was best for her but the more they grew the worse it became. She knew he had seen it all and maybe it was for her own good that he wanted to keep her out of it but she was an adult, she had to be free to make her own choices if he ever expected her to actually grow up.
She had dated before. She was twenty one, she wasn’t bad looking and she was a Jaeger by extension, of course she had dated. Sweet boys, boys who were well off, boys who would take her to expensive places and buy her expensive things and Eren had been delighted to see her so happy. He had never once told her she wasn’t allowed to see one of them or limited how late she was supposed to come home. Her adoptive parents were too busy to do such things so when he had suddenly gone big brother on her telling who she could and couldn’t see she had of course snapped.
Only now does she wish she had listened.
Only after he was already gone does she wish she can go back and tell him that she would stay away from Jean if it meant getting to keep him. She hated how she could still feel Jean’s lips against her own. How she could still taste him on her tongue and smell him all around her. He was like an omnipresent thought in the back of her head, emotions mixing with rage making her unstable and unreliable.
Some would say it was simply grief over her brother, and in reality most of her heart break was, but then there was a whole other ache. One she couldn’t shake from the simply fact that it had been him. The fact that when she had finally stared to open her heart she was reminded that you could never get to close. Not without getting hurt.
The road was long and it started snowing a few miles in but she didn’t stop, barely blinked. Bloodshot eyes trained on her destination. She knew where he would go first. It was less than a day away and Connie and Sasha had always been on his side.
She knew where they lived. And knew how to make them talk. No matter the price.
Marauders AU strikes again! This time with the Eremikas at Hogsmeade enjoying some of that there fine butterbeer and Eren is nothing if not a gentleman XD
0. Forget you’re broken too.
Jean likes to offer his hand, because he knows Mikasa gets cold easily.
— Jackie Robinson (via claircouteau)
take me to a place where nightmares don't exist
Shingeki no kyojin; A choise with no regrets; Scenery
A hand holding a warm cup of coffee appears in Mikasa’s line of vision. Marco sips from his own cup, already a little bit jittery from the sheer amount of caffeine in it. They’ll both need it today.
"You did well, Mikasa. Those takes came out beautifully!"
Mikasa blinks hard as the cup magically appears before her grabbing for it before she really knows who is handing it to her. At this point it makes no difference. Caffeine was needed. ”Nah I am sure it paled in comparison to your performance” she tries to smile eyes tired. “It’s been interesting”