Work Text:
Eren was never carefree, for as long as Mikasa could remember. He had always been angry, passionate, and stubborn, like it was in his nature. He was no stranger to tears, to burning cheeks and a hoarse throat. Eren had no pokerface.
Some credited the shift in his demeanor to him finally maturing, and though she agreed to a certain extent, Mikasa knew that there was something more, something different about him—the way he carried himself, the light in his eyes, or the lack of.
Things changed. Historia became queen, Paradis began to learn about the outside world—everything moved forward and Eren simmered as if it were all the same, like he'd seen it all before.
Something was chipping him away. Mikasa felt as if she could only watch it happen.
Her heels clicked softly on the cobblestone streets, a strange taste in her mouth after trying a few new foods. How strange it was to have something so delicious after all their suffering.
"Mikasa." Eren called her name tenderly, though exhaustion laced each syllable. He had stopped in the middle of the walkway. He gripped his own cone tightly, and it was very slowly melting in his hand.
The sun was beginning to set, and the harbor was strangely beautiful. It filled him with dread.
If it weren't for the occasional passerby, Eren would forget that there was anyone else around them. All he could see was Mikasa.
She took him by the crook of his elbow and guided him away from the crowded street.
"What do you think?" She asked lightly. It wasn't what she wanted to say, but she knew Eren wouldn't have answered her.
"Ice cream," he mumbled, unamused.
"You already—"
"Have some," Eren said, thrusting the treat toward her. "It's too sweet."
She frowned at the sentiment.
"You… don't like it?" It really shouldn't have surprised her.
"I can't finish it," he said lamely. Eren didn't have the heart to tell her that his appetite had been ruined.
"I already had one…" She tried to take it from him, but he didn't loosen his grip.
She wrapped her hand atop his and leaned in to lick a stripe away.
Eren swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off of her. His stomach lurched and his cheeks burned. He didn't deserve to have Mikasa to himself while the others were off exploring. They didn't have much time.
Mikasa's eyes were a clear gray, almost deep blue in the setting sun.
"Eren?"
He couldn't will himself to speak. He couldn't enjoy the moment, he couldn't just focus on her beauty and the way she looked at him, like she still thought he was worth something.
"Maybe you should try it anyway," she said softly.
Again, he gave no reply. There was only pain in his eyes.
Mikasa pursed her lips with slight disappointment, and went in for another.
Eren leaned forward right as she did, their noses brushing, his eyes boring into her. A smudge of white coated Mikasa's upper lip and her tongue slid over it, and they continued sharing the cone. Mikasa's eyelashes fluttered against Eren's, his lids low, and lips parted, ice cream mingling between them and dissolving in their mouths.
He pushed against her fiercely, grip tightening, the cone nearly crushed under their fingers as they fought to stay in the moment. The treat melted as the warmth of the kiss grew, lips growing numb, sweat on furrowed brows.
Eren's tongue slid across Mikasa's lips and darted into her parted mouth, and something inside him ached.
He could have this, if somehow it all changed. Sweet things. It could be wonderful.
He tore himself away from her and let go, fingers and chin sticky as crumbs fell to the ground.
"W-we should probably get going." He was being foolish. There was a lot to do.
"Yeah." Mikasa could barely see straight, her mouth smudged and wet, and a dot of white on her nose. She didn't want to wipe it away.