❝ 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄. 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍?❞
❝ let our feet dance, hearts beat as one as the engine sways within the background. let our lips entwine, heart race, but not forget about the mere words w...
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7.2k words: synopsis of acts: talks of the past, fluff, mild angst, guilt, holding grudges, regret, cuddling, erections, slight nudity, bed sharing.
It was the day after Eren had set his lips against your own. You found yourself unable to settle, knowing you had done such a thing. Just knowing that your lips had tainted his, momentarily plaguing him with emotions you wished he hadn't attained. Though you held an interest in becoming fond of him, you didn't desire to spill knowledge on the kiss the both of you shared. It was something so forbidden to you. Something that held good, yet unholy connotation to it. It was all so confusing and conflicting.
It was so nerve-wracking being aware of such a thing; your heart thudding with nervousness. It was such a distasteful feeling, knowing that you were going to be greeted with the sight of him. Knowing that you were going to be gifted the morning version of him, even as you balled your fists, attempting to scurry away from him. You just knew you were going to be greeted by him. Was that why you were hesitant to leave your room? Hesitant for your eyes to be kissed with the sight of his face?
You weren't one to be nervous, but you knew stealing someone's first kiss wasn't something to take lightly. It wasn't something that would gift happy memories. He was deserving of someone who wasn't going to cower away from the mere kiss, but someone who was going to settle with his emotions. To gift his emotions the time and energy they needed to thrive — to pursue.
Resting at the edge of your bed, you groan to yourself, crumpling the covers. You were afraid of hurting him, mentally, so maybe it was best not to mention the kiss. Even if he found himself confused, frustrated and angry, you couldn't. You just couldn't bring yourself to act as if something happened at night; the two of you were better off as friends.
You knew this. You knew this all too well. You knew better than ruining so many other platonic things you had — you were forming such a great friendship with him. He made you feel complete in a way, just as you were able to be yourself, without it being heavily sexualised. He didn't see you in sexual lighting, even as he had kissed you. He cherished how you were, without thinking about your body first — it was nice. He mentally thought about you.
