Tragic love right?

Of course, that’s what Mikasa and Eren had, tragic love. It doesn’t matter if Eren head-butted her, or tried to kill her in his titan form, or killed 80% of humanity, or called her a slave and said that he always hated her. This was apparently what “love” was now to her, and even after killing Eren, she still loved him despite it all.

She knew what he was now, the exact person he had inside, and she knew that he’d never changed a bit. Yet she still loved him anyway, her love never changed for him. Which would be heartwarming in other circumstances, but… what if you were grieving your own abuser? Missing him? Was she really free?

She was in an endless cycle of torment and genuine despair, yet she ignored it all for a comfortable fantasy where Eren truly cared about her despite emotionally and sometimes physically abusing her.

Oh, but Eren and Mikasa were the next Romeo and Juliet right? God forbid we don’t portray an abusive relationship as what it is, we just have to romanticize everything, right?

Right?

She woke up with a start, gently massaging her head as she awoke from her dream. Mikasa slowly shifted across the bed, hanging from the side before stepping down on the cold wooden floor.

She got dressed, put on her slippers, combed her hair and did her daily stare of a portrait she had of Eren, her, and Armin when they were kids. She also got on her red scarf, wrapping it around herself.

The scarf, the biggest part of the past. She got warmth and comfort from the presence of a man who killed more than half the world, and continued a cycle she was apart of. She grew her wings… yet, why did she choose to not fly?

Who cares, no one understood her either way.

“…”

She sat down in the kitchen, sighing softly to herself as she saw you wake up and go to over to pour some milk for yourself.

You had an argument last night, she was emotionally distressed, and you were in an extremely bad mood. But she never tried to discuss her emotions, she leaned to shut them out.