Hate Me | Eren Yeager

23. Selfish

The wind rustles through your hair, carrying the scent of the warm sunny day, tranquil unlike your mind.

You lean against your car thinking a cigarette would be good right now.

There's too much and too little to think about. Why did you sleep with Eren? It was a bad idea, obviously, but... you can't bring yourself to regret it.

What will your friends say when they eventually find out? Will they leave you? Maybe you deserve it, as karma for being a home-wrecker.

But your mind never stops wondering back to his half-lidded teal eyes staring down at you in desire and raw emotion, your stomach flutters every time the image appears in your mind.

... sometimes I wish I could just forget you.

Your chest tightens as you look up and see your father walking out of the prison gates. When was the last time you saw him in the sunlight?

He looks even more tired and sad than he did under the dim flickering indoor lights, maybe because he's wondering what's left of his life now that he's forced to live it again.

He stops just in front of you, and he's silent as his eyes search yours, asking the question you were dreading to answer.

"Hey... dad."

Your bottom lip can't help but begin to quiver like a child's as your faced with telling your father his wife passed away and he didn't get to say goodbye.

"... sh-she didn't... she's..."

"Haa..." his shoulders sink upon hearing what he knew was coming all along.

Now that he's really here and not just behind some screen, you've never wanted him to hold you more, like when you were a child.

Involuntarily you find yourself wrapping your arms around his shaking body, and he returns the sad embrace as you cry into his shoulder.

It feels warm and comforting to share the sadness of losing a shared loved one, he knows your pain better than anyone.

You two step through the front door of your mothers dark and empty house. It always feels wrong coming here in her absence.

Your dad says nothing as he follows you into the living room, boxes of heirlooms and decorations neatly set about.

"Mom left this house to us in her will, I figured I'd clean it up a bit for her. She became a bit of a hoarder after you went to jail, she always wanted to throw useless things out but always had trouble letting go."

He grabs a small picture from a cardboard box, wiping a bit of dust off your mother's smiling face. She always smiled so brightly in family photos, after she passed away you'd spend hours just looking at her and trying to relive those happy little photo shoots.

You exhale slowly and walk up to him, holding the house keys out, "I think she wanted you to have a place to stay once you were out."

He puts the picture down and smiles sadly at you, "Ah, I... I don't know sweetie-"

"Dad, she forgave you. She wanted nothing more than to make sure you'd be okay, you served your time and learned your lesson. So... please."

In truth, your mother wanted nothing more than to see him before she passed away, to apologize for never truly loving him. Of course she cared about him, she always would, but she was never in love with your father. But if you told him she wanted to see him he would feel even more guilt.

Eventually he sighs and takes the keys.

"... Alright. I'll take good care of this place, promise. And... I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you during some of the hardest and most confusing times of your life. I regret everything, I wish I never-"