Breathless •Eremika (Love. Me. Now. Or. Never.)

XIX: Eren I Owe You.

"Eren," Mikasa croaked, clutching Eren's letter tightly to her chest, holding it close to her heart which ached, entangled in an inexplicable maelstrom of overwhelming emotions. "I'm so s-sorry, Eren."

Her back was hunched, her breath hitching in tears. There was an acute desperation that propelled her to text Eren. She needed to see him now. She wanted to apologize. She wished to kiss him until all his pain ebbed away. Her hand trembling, Mikasa fumbled for her cell in her jeans pocket. Her eyes were bleary with tears hence she could barely see the buttons on the phone. After an entire minute of panic, she found Eren's contact.

Mikasa: Eren, please, come home.

There was no reply. Out of sheer craving, she sent another text.

Mikasa: I'm sorry, Eren, please come back to me. I don't hate you, I love you.

Eren was silent. Mikasa was gripping the phone was such force that she was only momentarily aware that it might break. She needed a reply.

Rocking back and forth on her tail bone, she wrapped her arms around herself, allowing the tears to fall freely. I was so stupid, she reprimanded herself, I never saw through his mask. All the sudden changes. His hot and cold behaviour towards her. His frequent absence from school. His tears. His scars. His cuts. 

All that was audible was her sobs. She had abused his love for her. She had misused him. She had made herself one of the main reasons that ultimately led to his depression. She had told him she didn't care for him.

"Eren," she sucked in a rattled breath, lifting her head, struggling for air, "I w-would never hate you, Eren, never. Not. Ever."

A muffled cry shattered her woeful thoughts. It wasn't hers. The cry came again, this time resembling a scream.

"Mikasa? Mikasa!" a deep masculine voice echoed in the hallway, making its way to Eren's room, where Mikasa sulked. Footsteps could be heard as the man hurried up the stairs.

Mikasa folded the letter roughly and slipped it into the inner pouch of her parka. Then she clambered her way cumbersomely to the door, figuring that it was Mr. Yeager, Eren's father. She turned to door knob to see him, his eyes fear-stricken and bloodshot.

"Mr. Yeager?" she half-whispered, horrified by the look on his face.

"I-It's Eren," the man murmured, his pasty lips hardly moving, "He just got into a c-car crash. C-come to the hospital with us, Mikasa."

~

"Check! Pulse rate!" the nurse hollered at her colleagues, pulling the stretcher into one of the well-lit hospital hallways. They connected the tubes to the packet of clear fluid hanging on one of the portable stands and secured the oxygen mask, fitting it snugly to the face.

"Eren!" Mikasa was jogging along with the crew, frantically hoping to catch a glimpse of the injured boy. Yet her yells were drowned out by Mrs. Yeager's eardrum-wetting wails.

Eren's mother was crouched on the ground, her back against the wall. Her face was so contorted that her features no longer recognizable. She was hysterical, inconsolable, her eyes rolled back into their sockets, showing the whites. Mr. Yeager was pinching the bridge of his nose, sniffling, biting back the tears and their son was ushered into the surgical room.

Don't leave me, no, Mikasa thought blankly at Eren as his stretcher disappeared behind two swinging double doors amongst a throng of doctors and nurses. The people in white gowns zoomed past her, as if she was no longer visible. In the haste, she did not even get the chance to see him. Everything around her was blurred.

She had distanced herself from his parents, reluctant to see them for a while, thus she could have some time to calm herself. There was a lot that she had to tell Eren. How did things take such a wry turn? When she eventually unravelled all his knots, he wasn't there to listen.

Everything seemed surreal. A barrage of questions bombarded her. Why was she waiting outside the surgical room? Why was Eren on the stretcher? Wake up, girl, the cooing voice in her head repeated, this is just a bad dream.

No. Mikasa shook her head to clear her looming thoughts. This was reality. Not 'just a bad dream'. At any moment now, she could lose Eren to death's unyielding grip. No. He could not leave her. She would not permit his going-away.

She had too many things she still had to tell him.

She owed him too many embraces and kisses.

She owed him just too many apologies.

Did the both of them run out of luck at the last moment? A hefty ball of guilt settled in her heart, lodging itself there. Her head ached, the frontal lobe pounding against the cranium.

Unable to balance herself anymore, she swayed on her feet, abruptly crumpling in upon herself, dropping like a wilted flower to the ground. Her vision shook. Her mind did backflips. She held an arm out to steady herself, yet her arm was flaccid, folding in instantly, causing her to nearly fall face-first onto the ground.

"What...," her jaw hung open involuntarily. Disorientated, she tried to lift her paralysed body, but everything seemed to defy the laws of physics. She could not feel the force of gravity acting on her and the walls of the hallway did not appear vertical. What was happening to her?

Letting her hefty eyelids fall, she gave herself in to the depths of darkness, consumed by unconsciousness. Eren's name was the last word on her mind.

~

"Eren, wear this." A petite girl with jet black hair, in a white dress and a pink cardigan, was holding an intricate-looking accessory, offering it to the boy beside her. They were sitting in the middle of the dense, grassy pastures of an old abandoned farm, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

"A flower crown?" Eren shook his head, rejecting the girl's kind offer, "I know you made it for me but if I wore that I wouldn't look manly, Mikasa." He was lying on his stomach, observing the blades of the lush grass beneath him.

Mikasa sighed, lowering her head, "we're only nine so you won't look manly anyway. Just wear it for now." Again, she handed the braided crown of flowers to Eren, who took it aversely, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

"Mikasa, I can't wait until we grow up," he blurted out, "It's going to be fun. I can look manly then, finally."

"I know," Mikasa gazed at him adoringly, giving him a subtle smile, "do you think we'll still be friends when we become adults?"

"Yes," Eren said infallibly, drawing out the word, "And we will both have amazing lives. Everything would be so awesome! I. Can't. Wait."

"Of course," she let out a rare laugh, "As long as we stick together forever, we'll be just fine, right? Right, Eren?"

~

As long as we stick together forever, we'll be fine, right? Right, Eren?

~

Snippet from next chapter:

"Please," Mikasa's voice sounded utterly annihilated, "Please, just let me see him one. Last. Time."