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“Why…why? Were we not good enough? Was I not good enough?”
“Don’t say that.”
“But…why did he leave me?”
Historia only wished she knew the answer.
“Armin, sometimes, people have to leave. I don’t know why,” she subconsciously recalled the gentle caress of the titan’s rough fingers on her face, “it’s just their thing, don’t worry.”
Armin lifted his head, his eyes rusty red. “I’m sorry, I know Ymir…she left you, too, didn’t she?”
Historia pursed her lips.
“I never did know,” Armin continued, “but at least she didn’t turn into a genocidal maniac. And she didn’t stop loving you, either.”
“I know,” a ghost of a smile was etched on her face.
“Eren said he loved us. He said he loved me. But I guess…he never meant any of it, then?”
Historia sunk her hand further into Armin’s trembling back.
“Armin?”
A sharp voice, toned tenderly, came through the door. Historia straightened up at the sight of Mikasa, looking worriedly at Armin’s hunched form.
Mikasa strode swifty forward and with an equally swift salute, embraced Historia gently.
“May I?” her words were only for Historia’s ears. She nodded, bending down to give Armin a quick hug and walked out of the room, leaving the two quite alone.
Armin looked at Mikasa, looking devastated. Mikasa grimaced, biting her lower lip and glanced at the table.
That damned bastard.
Never had Mikasa thought she’d feel such contempt for Eren, but there she was. To send his wedding invitation when Armin’s wounds hadn’t even begun to heal. Wounds he had inflicted on the boy he had claimed to love.
Mikasa had wounds too. Not visible to the eye, but the wound on her heart was beyond deep. She loved Eren. And he had returned her…their love in the most unfitting way.
Floch Forester. Mikasa’s hands twitched, craving the feel of that fucker’s blood on them. She knew she should’ve been careful. He seemed harmless but he had been taking their friend from them; right under her eyes. And she had done nothing.
And now Eren was getting married to him.
She grabbed the invitation with the aggression of a beast, slightly startling Armin. The coals in the fireplace roared with ecstasy as Mikasa slammed the gold trimmed document into them, watching it burn with savage satisfaction.
Tears flowed down from Armin’s ocean blue eye. Mikasa unclenched her skin, sitting down next to him.
Very tenderly, she wiped the tears away.
“Don’t cry for him. Please,” she said slowly. “He isn’t worth your tears.”
Armin leaned his head against Mikasa and felt her caress his hair gently.The strength of his lament was diminishing.
“You deserve better, Armin.”
Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was smiling.
She had always been there for him, from the day she had knocked down the older boy bullying him in the sun-bathed streets of Shiganshina to her quick hold protecting him from the blast in the tense, cold building of the prison.
He felt protected and cared for under her hold.
“Mikasa…” his voice was shaking.
“Yes?” she answered, holding him closer.
“Stay with me.”
“Do you even have to ask?”