Attack On Titan: Dreams

His fingers intertwine with hers upon the swell of her belly, and he is suddenly overcome with emotion, and very glad their eyes are both closed so she can't catch him being sensitive about her and the life growing within her - again.

He blinks and opens his eyes to small emerald greens that mirror his , a scant tuft of raven hair atop an otherwise bald head, and the child is a warm bundle in his arms that has instantly claimed secondary ownership of his heart, and he wants to cry - and laugh, because the baby boy is just as quiet and calm as the flushed and exhausted woman in the bed before him.

"He looks just like you," Eren says, brushing the back of his index finger against his new born son's tiny, velvet soft cheek. The baby turns into his touch and blinks up at him silently, and he feels himself beam like a fool.

"No, he definitely looks more like you," he hears Mikasa say. "He's just not scowling."

"Hey , that's..." he begins, taking offense, before looking down at the boy in his arms. Though his eyes are more slight like hers, hair a deep onyx like hers, the child had inherited his tan complexion and eye colour.

"... that's... kind of true, I guess," he grumbles before glancing up to meet Mikasa's amused gaze. Eyes trained on the infant in his gentle hold, she outstretches her arms expectantly, and he smiles and rises from his seat to settle on the bed next to her, before gently passing their son into her waiting arms.

Sitting back, he watches her cradle the tiny bundle that is all their making so very gingerly, as though she is afraid she may accidentally crush it with her superhuman strength if she is not careful. He then shifts his gaze to her face, and the sight is startling and makes the hairs on his arms stand on end, because she is smiling .

Really smiling.

Though she now cracked a small smile here and there more often, she rarely ever smiled so unabashedly and exuberantly. And with the raw emotion on her face, eyes shining with unshed tears, skin glistening with sweat, raven bangs sticking to her face, cheeks flushed from exhaustion, he swears she has never looked more beautiful.

Jaw slacking until his mouth is hanging slightly ajar, he is completely captivated and unable to look away, as he begins to reflect on his great fortune that he could live to see this moment, and watch his closest friend, protector, confidante, and lover, cradle a bundle of warmth that is equal parts him and her, and to

"He has your eyes."

The words halt his thoughts, coming out just barely above a whisper, and it might just be the softest he's ever heard her speak.

At the sound, he finds his eyes inexplicably beginning to sting with the threat of tears, his throat beginning to close up, and he must draw in a deep breath to regain his composure, inwardly cursing himself for the strange physical reactions that are completely out of his control.

And then she turns to look at him, and he is caught in the act of gawking and being sensitive, but there is no judgement in the charcoal blues that blink inquisitively at him for his silence. He feels his face warm, and he can only smile back sheepishly and clear his throat to mask his embarrassment. He then scoots closer to her on the bed and puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Mmm. But I hope he has your patience," Eren says, poking gently at the boy's stomach, "And abdominal strength."

And for the second time that day, Mikasa renders him speechless and awestruck as she cracks the silence with her laughter a rare and incredibly beautiful thing.

He decides that, next to the whir of blades against titan flesh, it's his most favourite sound in the entire world.

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, opening them to the sight of her moonlit, serene face.

'She's like a fucking painting,' he muses.

He scoots in closer, careful not to make any sudden movements to wake her.

"You were a stupid, stupid boy, Eren..." he mutters to himself, raising a hand to trace his fingertips against the velvet soft skin of her cheek, trailing them down to outline the curve of her rosebud pink lips.

'This is mine,' he childishly thinks to himself all the while. 'All mine.'

His index finger trails down her chin, before he lets his hand drop back onto the bed with a sigh.

"I don't deserve you, do I?" he whispers at her sleeping form. "I... probably never have. But I'm trying to, now - trying to deserve you, because you make me so incredibly, stupidly happy... "

He raises his hand once more to brush at her cheek with the back of his fingers, and unexpectedly, she turns her head into his touch, eyes still closed, a small smile on her face. He opens his hand to cup her cheek, and she shifts just enough to press a soft kiss into his palm, before settling back into her pillow, eyes remaining closed.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers, glad for the darkness as he is certain his face is now glowing pink. While he had become used to showing his affection for her physically in their private moments - almost excessively - he still rarely ever verbalized his feelings. Despite how far they had come, he still found doing so painfully embarrassing and unnatural.

"I'm not dreaming?" she murmurs drowsily, eyes remaining closed as she places her hand on his, fingertips trailing over the sensitive ridges on the backs of his fingers. "Eren doesn't say sweet things like this in real life."

"Hey. I do. Sometimes," he whispers, and her smile stretches wider. "Didn't I just do it?"

"Only when you thought I was sleeping."

"Well, you're awake now."

"I am," she says.

Then she peeps one eye open in expectation, and he fights the grin that threatens to spread on his face, but fails to mould it into an irritated frown. He then sighs and scoots in closer, so their foreheads are touching.

"Fine," he grumbles, bumping his nose against hers, and she closes the lone eye.

"You... fight good... still, and... your abs are awesome," he stammers, and he feels her stifle a laugh at his inability to be complimentary. "What? I'm really impressed at how quickly you got them back after having Rin."

(Yes I said it Rin he looks like their kid and I love blue lock so I had to do it.

"Thanks," she replies flatly.

He grins, and brushes his thumb against her cheek, blinking down at the bridge of her nose thoughtfully.

"Thanks for... always nagging me like you do. I'd probably be dead if you didn't," he begins.

"Mmhmm," she nods in affirmation against him, and he butts his head against her lightly with a slight pout that she cannot even see.

"Thank you for... choosing me instead of Jean, even though you probably should have chosen him and his stupid horse face."

"That was never going to happen. My heart only belongs to you and no one else."

His smile widens, and he presses a kiss to her nose, ego momentarily flaring.

He stares on and continues his ministrations until his thumb catches upon the small, puckered stretch of skin beneath her eye. He pauses and shifts back slightly to stare at the scar intently, and resumes his caress, calling to mind the time he had marked her with it, and the time nearly a decade later he had finally fully acknowledged it.

She opens her eyes, likely sensing the change in mood, and in her gaze, he finds concern and knowing.

"Thanks for..." his eyes flick back to hers from the scar.

"Thanks for doing... this with me," he whispers hoarsely, sliding his thumb back over the smooth line, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

And from the look in her eye, she understands that his "this" spans the entirety of their history together from her following him into hell without batting an eyelash, and stubbornly staying by his side, to the ways she has let his hands rove her body, and to the reclamation of their home and their new adventure in beginning a family together.

"There's no one else I'd rather... brave it all with," he says, his face warming at the uncharacteristically tender honesty of his words because having her look at him while he says things like this makes him feel so very vulnerable and naked.

She blinks back at him, clearly taken off guard at the serious tone the originally lighthearted game has taken, because now even her eyes are shining with emotion. She closes her fingers around his hand, lifting it slightly to lean forward and press a prolonged kiss to his mouth, before settling back down into her pillow.

She kisses the centre of his palm once more before setting his palm back upon her cheek and closing her eyes, her fingertips resuming the circles they are tracing on the back of his hand.

"So... was that good enough?" he whispers in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She nods under his palm.

"Mmhmm. It was very good."

"Good."

He is staring again, relishing in her warmth and the gentle trace of her fingers on his skin.

"Now I don't think I'll be able to say anything nice to you or anyone else for an entire year," he breaks the silence gruffly.

"That's okay. We're all already used to it."

"Hey!" he whispers harshly.

She chuckles quietly, and he does too, feeling as stupidly happy as ever.

"I love you, Mikasa Ackerman..." He leans in to kiss her.

"I love you too, Eren Yeager..." She replies smiling, her lips finding their way to his.

He blinks his eyes open to his ceiling, and he is alone.

A smile is fixed to his face, his cheeks wet with stray tears, and the way the cool air meets his skin tells him that he is no longer dreaming.

In his drowsy haze, a strange sense of loss is felt as he presses his forearm to his eyes to wipe away the moisture. And, just as soon as he registers his smile, he forces the corners of his mouth back down into a thin line.

"What the fuck... ?" he mutters, keeping his arm pressed to his eyes, trying his best to squash the unwanted pangs of longing that begin to swell.