Glassy Sky || ERERI

Me and My Husband

Taking a deep breath in from the world around him, Eren inhaled the cool air drifting in from the open window across the room. It seemed to be a cold day. The usually ocean blue sky was now overcast with dark gray cotton ball clouds, and it looked as if it were going to rain at any moment. But he couldn't be sure.

Another gust of wind softly rolled through the room, running through Eren's already messy soft brown hair. Getting out of the bed, he felt his body shiver as his feet touched the hardwood flooring of the seemingly empty house, and pushed the window shut. Making his way out of the room and down the hallway, Eren listened to the quiet padding of his bare feet walking along the wood and clicked the bathroom door shut behind him.

Eyes instantly becoming focused on the big wide mirror that laid in front of him. His skin was pale, deadly pale. It was almost a pasty white in the bright white light of the bathroom. It almost looked as if he were dead, nothing more than a ghost wandering the empty halls of his own home. The only thing that brought out any amount of colour to the monochrome-white-toned bathroom was the dark purple and blue bruises that seemed to be littering almost every part of his washed-out skin.

The mirror was smudgy, and it made his reflection look seemingly distorted. It felt alien to look at himself anymore, he rarely did it. And he thought it was for the better that he couldn't see himself clearly. He already had an idea of just how terrible he looked from how much his body ached on the inside.

Bringing a bony hand up to his cheek, Eren pressed a shaky finger against one of the bruises, it doesn't hurt. Or maybe it does, maybe it 𝘥𝘪𝘥 hurt, but even if it did he could barely feel anything.

Whether it was because of the cold air of the house numbing his body or because he'd gotten used to the pain of receiving every hit and blow that Jean was so eager to give him when he disobeyed or angered him in any slightest way.

And maybe it was for a good thing that he couldn't feel, he'd rather be completely numbed out than have to deal with hurt and damage that Jean gave him throughout the late hours of the night when he was drunk and careless. When he paid no second thought toward putting his hands on him, when he would repeatedly kick and bruise him when he was already down on the ground, crying and begging for his husband to stop.

But Jean never did.

Eren knew it wasn't really his husband's fault that he couldn't control his anger, he'd always have a short temper, more than others. And plush, the brunet was practically asking for Jean to beat him sometimes. He should've been more obedient toward him, should've been more respectful. He knows how bad Jean's temper can get when provoked.

He was the one at fault, not Jean. Never Jean. He knew everything his husband did for him was out of goodwill. He knew that man cared for him more than anything. When Eren was down, he was there. When his father had thrown him out of the house for being gay, he was there. The only reason he's here right now is because of Jean.

Stripping his bruised body off of his clothing, Eren threw his pyjamas to the ground. Shivering at the cold air that bit cruelly at his damaged skin, Eren stepped into the shower. Turning the tap on, he backed up from the nozzle not wanting to be in the way of the cold water that sprayed down. He waited for sign of any steam rising from the water before stepping under, letting water droplets hit him, wet bangs falling over his eyes.

Reaching his arm out to support his already weakened body, Eren leaned his hand onto the white porcelain. Staring blankly down at the running water below him. Watching as it repeatedly circled around the drain before running into it. The motion was almost hypnotizing to him, watching the process repeat over and over again. It almost never seemed to end.