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It was, as with most bad ideas that passed between them, all Eren’s.
He proposed it to her one morning while they were having breakfast at their usual diner, in their usual spot in the corner booth. The seven o’clock sunlight spilled in from the window next to them, making everything a tinge more vibrant - the tabletop a little more red, the butter on their pancakes a little more yellow, the flush in his best friend’s cheeks and nose a little more pink.
Despite the peacefulness of the scene, the two of them were staring obstinately at each other. Eren’s lips were drawn in a thin line, his brow furrowed. Mikasa’s face, though impassive, betrayed the fact that she wasn’t backing down, either. A battle of wills over breakfast. Finally, Eren lifted one finger and said, “I’ll help you wash Levi’s car one time.”
Mikasa frowned. “I told you,” she said, her voice level, “It has to be twice, or no deal.”
“Even if I throw in dinner for a week?”
“Eren, I hate to tell you this, but you’re an awful cook.”
“Break my heart, why don’t you,” he deadpanned. He once again considered the prospect of slaving over Mikasa’s cousin’s beat up old sedan until every last bit of dust was gone, with the man himself breathing down his neck making sure not a spot was missed, not once, but twice in his foreseeable future. He shuddered, but if that was the price he had to pay, so be it. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised that he caved in so easily. “Really? That’s how badly you want this?” she asked, lifting her cup of piping hot coffee to her lips. The steam seemed to warm her face further. “Just what did your brother and his friends say, anyway?”
He winced, the recollection of the Bachelor Party From Hipster Hell like a fresh wound. His older half-brother Zeke had invited him last weekend to join him and his friends at the vinyl record store they had rented out for the occasion, where they spent six hours drinking craft beers, listening to indie music, and, unfortunately for him, taking turns telling Eren to get a move on, get settled and be happy, there’s nothing like it, or, occasionally, I know this girl at work if you want to meet someone, I can give you her number, you should hit her up.
“Nothing important,” he mumbled blearily, “Just that I got tired of their nagging, so I told them I had a girlfriend just to shut them up.”
She frowned. “You could have just told them you aren’t thinking of dating right now.”
“Come on, Mikasa, it’s just one weekend pretending to date me,” he said, very nearly begging.
Mikasa looked down at her pancakes, seeming to consider this. “And…” she started, her dark eyes flicking up to meet his, “What would that entail, exactly?”
“Just… hang around me while we’re there, I guess? Be my date? Don’t leave me alone?”
She tilted her head as she considered this. “Um, okay,” she answered, “But I already do all that, though.”
Her admission, though a bit embarrassing, wasn’t a lie. Having been best friends for all their lives - some twenty-something years - they had been each other’s default plus-one to everything: homecoming, prom, work parties, weddings, you name it. Especially for family affairs, even when one of them was dating someone else, they always fell back on each other; Eren because he refused to bring girls he was dating to meet his crazy family on principle, and Mikasa because her family had by now accepted that she and Eren were a package set that simply could not be separated.
Eren bit his lip at her words. People often asked them if there was anything going on between them, and truth be told, he never knew what to answer. It was no stretch of the imagination to say he would do absolutely anything for Mikasa Ackerman. There was a lot of love there, sure, the kind of love that built up slowly and steadily over the course of nearly two decades of knowing each other better than anyone else in the world. But what kind of love was a question that often eluded him.
To say that he “never saw her that way” would be a blatant lie. Really, who could look at Mikasa and not be moved in some way? Maybe when they were kids, it had been nothing. He had thought of her like a sister, and she was nearly invisible to him. But somewhere down the line, she became all he could see.
The truth was, he had always felt that Mikasa would be happier just having him as a friend.
And why wouldn’t she? His track record with his relationships wasn’t promising in the least. He had joked, with not mild self-loathing, that he tended to ruin everything he touched. It was a rare occasion that his attachments lasted more than six months (that in itself was an accomplishment, because these days he really was more of a hookup kind of guy). There was always something he did to drive them away, something unforgivable, and he would be left alone again.
He wasn’t sure he could handle it if he drove her away.
Finally, he smiled over at her. “Okay then, just try and act a bit more in love with me when I introduce you to Zeke, all right?” he asked, amused.
In response, the corner of her lip tilted upward just a little as she rested her head in her palm and looked at him, her dark eyes softer and more tender than he’d ever seen them.
Warily, but with a painful awareness of the ache in his chest, he asked, “What the hell are you doing?”
She smiled. “Practicing.”
-o-
The drive to the winery - yes, his unapologetically hipster brother would be married at a winery - was long, nearly four hours, and for almost half an hour of it, they bickered over the appropriateness of heavy metal blasting on the radio for such a road trip. Eventually they settled into a companionable silence as Mikasa hummed contentedly to nothing in particular.
“I hate weddings,” Eren grumbled, mostly to himself.
Mikasa turned to look at him. “Why’s that?”
He glanced over at her, only just now realizing that he’d complained out loud. “I don’t know,” he began, training his eyes back on the road. “It’s just… such a spectacle, I guess. Who is it even for? You’re showing how in love with each other you are in front of an audience. You’re performing. But inside you’re fucking miserable. You spend thousands of dollars on a single day that you’re never going to get back, you can’t even eat properly because people are congratulating you left and right, and you have about a fifty-fifty chance of ending up on either side of that divorce statistic.”
“That’s not cynical at all,” she observed drily.
Eren scoffed. “Yeah? The hopeless romantic strikes again.”
Mikasa had never been the vocal type, but she was a romantic nonetheless. For as long as he knew her, people had called her stoic, quiet, emotionless, and it was a damn tragedy. He knew better than anyone that the depths of her feelings just could not be matched. Her love was quiet, diligent, attentive to detail - and her significant others had read this as a lack of feeling. It was the furthest thing from it.
“Yeah,” she answered, fervently, with a passion he hadn’t quite expected from her. “What’s wrong with sharing a special moment with the people you love?”
“When it’s a shitshow, yeah, it’s wrong.”
She groaned at that. “Not everyone goes into a relationship waiting for a bomb to fall, Eren. Some people actually hope they’ll keep their promises of being together forever. They actually work at it.” This was a jab at him, and he knew it; the string of broken hearts he left in his wake hardly needed pointing out.
“Well, maybe there’s our problem,” he answered, “Maybe people are trying too hard to make things work. What if the ones who stay together don’t need to work at it?” He cast another sidelong glance at her, unsure now if he was talking about marriages in general or if he had steered into different territory altogether. “What if it’s just supposed to feel… right, you know? Like you don’t have to try?”
Mikasa hummed in response. “Love is a choice, Eren. If you don’t have to try, the moment things get hard, you’re just going to run away,” she answered, her gaze distant now as she looked out the window, at the greenery rolling past.
He considered this for a moment. “Wait,” he said with a start, “Do you want to get married?”
“Why not,” she answered cryptically, “A home to return to sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
-o-
The vineyard grounds were sprawling, nearly five acres of lush green scenery leading up to an old lodge of white stone. In the courtyard, the finishing touches were lovingly put on the decor: fresh white and marsala-colored roses for the wedding arch, meticulously carved white candles on their stands in the front, and flower petals scattered artfully down the aisle. It was something out of a wedding magazine, the kind of thing Eren had never expected his brother to want.
He parked his car close to the lodge, going around to help Mikasa out of the car before grabbing their bags from the trunk. Together, they walked up to the lodge, chatting about whether Zeke had sprung for free-flowing wine considering where they were. And, just as they were making jokes about him and the shabby chic aesthetic, he appeared in front of them in his white shirt and chinos, every bit the parody of himself Eren had been painting him as.
“Eren! You’re early,” he greeted, reaching out to wrap him in a bear hug. (Eren winced but hugged him back nonetheless.) The tall blond took a step back and fixed his eyes on Mikasa. Grinning, he said, “And you must be his girlfriend. Mikasa, right? I’m his big brother, Zeke.”
Mikasa smiled and nodded. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you. Congratulations on your wedding.”
“I have to say, you’re even more beautiful than he said you were,” Zeke told her cheerfully, inciting some mild panic in Eren, who willed Zeke to shut up. His older brother either didn’t see his discomfort, or saw but didn’t care. Instead, he went on, his voice nearly mischievous, “Not to say that he was downplaying it, I mean, he did say you were a ‘total knockout’ but even that doesn’t seem to do you justice.”
Eren very nearly groaned.
She raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “He did, did he?” she asked, her smile unreadable. He thought for a moment she might make some dubious remark that would make Zeke realize it was all a sham, but thankfully she said nothing more. He knew, though, that that was probably not the last he would hear about it from her. He shuddered to think of that conversation.
“I mean, it’s the truth,” he answered, in a tone he hoped sounded suave, reaching down to take her hand in his. He looked into her dark gray eyes, pleading with her to play along.
She looked down, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks, as she gave his hand a squeeze. He ignored the slight tingle that the gesture elicited where his skin met hers. “Thank you,” she replied sweetly, and Eren thought, wow, Mikasa’s kind of good at this, because he could swear his heart skipped a beat.
Zeke seemed none the wiser, for better or for worse. “Right, so how about we get you two to your room,” he said, more of a statement than a question, as he led them towards the receptionist. “Ceremony’s at four, so…” he checked his watch and smiled accommodatingly at them. “Plenty of time to get a couple glasses of wine in. Which I think I will. See you two later.”
When Zeke disappeared up the stairs, they hurriedly let go of each other’s hands, each giving the other a sheepish, embarrassed look. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I wasn’t expecting the...” she gestured to their hands, adding, “That.”
“It’s okay, I uh, should’ve warned you or something,” he replied. Gesturing to the stairs, he said, “After you.” He followed along behind her, then, the feeling of her hand soft and warm still a ghost in his own.
They made their way up to their room, and after fiddling with the old keys a bit, they found themselves in a beautiful room with a balcony leading out to a view of the vineyard, hardwood details, and - try as they might to ignore it - one queen-sized bed, strewn with rose petals.
Mikasa looked up at him skeptically. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch,” she said breezily, already reading what was on his mind. She walked into the room, their bags in tow, and, with an efficiency he had come to expect from her, she had his suit and her dress hung up in the closet and some of their necessities unpacked in record time.
Eren knew better than to argue with her about sleeping arrangements. Mikasa was just as stubborn as he was when she wanted to be. Besides, he was starting to get the feeling that she was right after all, and that this whole fake dating thing was a supremely bad idea. In no small part because he was proving to be terrible at acting, and in a much larger part, because Eren himself wasn’t sure if his heart could take it any longer.
But the only way to deal with a bad idea is to power through it, and that was exactly what he was going to do.
They spent the next few hours watching an old movie on television and slowly getting ready. They had cracked open a bottle of wine they didn’t even attempt to pronounce, because they knew they would just get it wrong. Eren spent most of the afternoon complaining and tossing handfuls of petals at the screen whenever the lead actor said something cheesy (something that happened far too frequently), while Mikasa just shook her head and laughed. All in all, no different from their usual movie nights, but somehow, there was something hanging in the air, too. Like the anticipation of something about to change. He wondered briefly if he was the only one who felt it.
He snuck a peek at Mikasa, who was busying herself applying mascara in front of the mirror. Yeah, he probably was the only nervous one here, right?
… Or not. They’d turned the movie into a drinking game that Mikasa was losing, and by the end of it, she had drunk more than half the bottle of wine by herself. He wondered briefly if maybe she had been losing intentionally in exchange for some liquid courage. To be fair, he couldn’t blame her. He could probably use some, too.
He begrudgingly agreed to start changing into his suit while Mikasa changed into her dress in the bathroom. A few minutes of rustling, and Eren had to will himself to think about anything other than Mikasa, undressed, on the other side of that door. “I’m done, are you decent?” she called out from inside.
“Yeah, just my tie left,” he called back, feeling like he was caught red-handed with his embarrassing thoughts.
The bathroom door opened, and he looked up instinctively, unable to rein in his surprise when he saw her. She was even prettier than usual, with her short hair slightly curled, her lips slightly pink. She wore a dress the color of wisteria, simple and understated but somehow just right. He realized, then, that he must have stopped mid-tie, because she took his surprise for just… forgetting how to tie his tie, apparently.
She walked up to him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat from their sudden proximity. Like it was only natural, she reached out and adjusted his tie for him. She’d done it many, many times before, a role she had become accustomed to since their very first school dance, but somehow today was different. Was having to pretend they were together making him hyper-aware of her? As he looked down at her face, at the furrow in her brow as she tried to get his tie just right, at her eyes glinting under her long lashes, he wasn’t quite sure if he could handle this for much longer. He remembered with some dismay that the evening had not yet begun.
“There we go,” she said, finally contented with the knot she’d made. Proudly, she straightened out his lapels, patting them gently as she beamed up at him. “You’re all set.”
He felt his whole face warm up, right up to his ears. “Thanks.” Offering her his arm, he asked her, “Shall we?”
The ceremony was small and intimate, with around fifty of the couple’s close friends and family. There weren’t too many familiar faces because they’d grown up apart, with the exception of those friends of Zeke’s whom he met at the bachelor party. They had all been drunk on shitty IPAs then, but now (probably half-drunk on wine, let’s be real here) they seemed to beam with genuine happiness for his brother. His bride, a woman just a couple years older than them, seemed peaceful and radiant as she looked up at him. It was the happiest he’d ever seen Zeke, too: his older brother kept sneaking glances at his would-be wife, all the way up to the time they were to exchange vows.
“Zeke,” his bride began, a smile glittering in her dark eyes as she looked up at him. “I’ve known you for most of my life. You know me better than anyone ever could, and I’m sure I know all your secrets, right down to that - ” at this she made air quotes as she continued, “ - special way you wipe your ass, but…” at this the guests laughed. Her expression softened. “What I didn’t know was how good it would be to fall in love with your best friend in the world. I trust you with the rest of our lives together, completely.”
“Pieck,” Zeke said, his smile ear to ear and irrepressible. “You know I never knew what love was supposed to look like, didn’t know how I was supposed to recognize it if I ever saw it. But I saw you, and you were beautiful, and strong, and steady. You made me choose to believe in a love bigger than myself. I look forward to many more years of telling you how exactly right you are.”
As a chuckle erupted from the crowd, Eren caught Mikasa’s eye from his seat at the groomsmen’s row. She gave him a small smile and a discreet little thumbs up in reassurance. Okay, he conceded with a grin, maybe not all weddings are horrible.
As the ceremony came to a close, Mikasa sidled up next to him. “Your brother looks very happy,” she said conspiratorially, nearly whispering it in his ear.
“He does,” he whispered back, his eyes fixed on Zeke and Pieck, who were too caught up staring at each other adoringly to pay attention to anyone else around them. “It’s kind of unsettling.”
“Come on now,” she scolded, giving his arm a gentle slap.
“I mean it, he’s looking at her like…” he started, only then turning to look at her. Like she’s all he could see, was what he was supposed to say, but it felt hypocritical now to be mocking his brother for something he, too, was guilty of. He didn’t expect her face to be so close to his. She seemed just as surprised, because her gray eyes widened and her lips parted slightly, as though she were about to say something. The words must have gotten lost somewhere, though, because she didn’t say a thing.
“Uh…” he started to say, but it was difficult. His throat was closing around the words, and it was all he could do to attempt to tear his eyes away from her lips. Attempt, because he couldn’t quite seem to do that, either.
He wondered if he imagined the flash of courage in her eyes, there for a briefest moment before they slid closed. He watched her, transfixed, as she tilted her head up towards his. Thoughts were racing through his head, but one was louder than them all: was he really about to kiss Mikasa Acker -
“Eren!” came Zeke’s voice booming from the table they’d set up in front. Hurriedly they both took a step back from each other, as though their current proximity was not at all a safe distance. When his newly married older brother caught sight of how close they had been standing, he stopped. “Oh, my. Did I interrupt something?” he asked, the amusement in his voice so thinly veiled he may as well not have tried to hide it at all.
Just like that, the spell was broken. Mikasa must have noticed Zeke watching them - it was the only possible explanation, right? There was no way that his best friend would try to pull something like that otherwise. He felt an odd mix of disappointment and regret that he pushed down. You’re supposed to be fake dating, remember? He had to remind himself.
“No, it’s fine,” he said hastily, “You were looking for me?”
“Yeah, come sit with us. Pieck wanted to meet you two.”
He cast a sidelong glance at Mikasa, who was resolutely not looking up at him. Still, she let him put a hand on the small of her back as they walked together up to the newlyweds’ table. Pieck was radiant with happiness, her face aglow with just-married delight, and she gestured for Mikasa to take the seat next to her. “Hello, Eren, Mikasa. I’m so glad you two could make it today. Zeke was really looking forward to having you here.”
“Congratulations,” Mikasa said, perfectly polite, as always. Eren fought back the agitation that threatened to make its way out of him. It turns out Mikasa was a much better actress than he had given her credit for, and for some reason, that was bothering him. Was he the only one worked up here? If she noticed his restlessness, she didn’t say anything about it, instead going on: “The ceremony was beautiful.”
Pieck’s eyes lit up at the praise. “I’m glad you thought so, even if our vows were full of bad inside jokes,” she answered. “But enough about me, I want to hear about the two of you before they force us out for the first dance. How did you two meet?”
“Mikasa and I have been neighbors since we were kids,” Eren replied. At least this much, they didn’t have to make up.
“Oh, childhood friends, that’s cute,” Pieck said approvingly, “Zeke and I have known each other since we were very young, too. The hard part about dating your best friend is making the first move, don’t you think?” she asked, amused.
Zeke roared with laughter at this. “Tell me about it. All that wondering if you’re just friends, or if there’s something more there? Thank God Pieck mustered up the courage to ask me out or this would never have gone anywhere.”
Pieck looked mildly offended. “Excuse me? If I recall correctly, you were the one drunk dialing me at two in the morning saying you absolutely had to tell me how you felt.”
“You know it doesn’t count if one of us is drunk.”
“Is that right?”
“Anyway,” Zeke said, turning to them once more, “Who fell in love first?”
Eren and Mikasa looked at each other, this particular question not one that they prepared for. He could feel his entire face warm up, wondering if in this case honesty would be the best policy still. After all, if there was no need for him to fake it, he wouldn’t get caught lying, right? The admission was on the tip of his tongue when Mikasa surprised him yet again.
“I did,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on the ground. Her face was a brighter red than he’d ever seen her before, and he had to keep telling himself that this was all an act. “I’ve liked him since… high school? No, maybe even before that.”
His mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and before he could stop himself, he shook his head and added, “No, I’m sure it was me. I’ve liked her for as long as I could remember.”
There was a pause hanging in the air, as though none of them knew quite what to say. Finally, Pieck looked at the both of them, amused more than anything, and said, “That’s cute, you two, but it’s really not a competition.”
From up on the platform, the host was asking the newlyweds to come up and share their first dance. Zeke helped Pieck up, and before he left towards the dance floor, put a reassuring hand on Eren’s shoulder. When he looked up at him, his brother winked. His heart sank at the sight. Not only was their ruse exposed by the very person he had been trying to fool, but also he had just laid his heart and soul bare for probably no good reason.
The two of them sat at the table, watching the newlyweds spin across the garden in each other’s arms. Night was falling, and the little lanterns that hung about the garden had begun to light up, casting a soft, warm glow around the vineyard. Eren looked over at Mikasa, her face awash with the golden lamplight, and he thought he’d never seen her look this beautiful before.
The song changed, then, and Mikasa surprised him yet again (after knowing each other so long, just how much she was doing that tonight amazed him) by taking him by the hand and tilting her head towards the dance floor, where couples had already begun to join the newlyweds. He didn’t hate the feel of his hand in hers. If anything, it felt as natural as breathing. Still, he couldn’t help but ask: “What are you doing?”
“Asking you to dance, obviously.”
“Oh, are you asking? I can’t tell.”
She gave his outstretched hand a tug and he followed after her, unable to say no. Around them, couples had started to slow dance to an old song they knew all the words to. As they stopped at the edge of the dance floor, Eren found his voice again. “You know I can’t dance.”
“I know,” she answered, not missing a beat. “Just follow my lead.”
She took his hands in hers and guided them to her waist, her dark eyes flicking up to gauge his reaction as she did. He felt his face burn up in response, and thanked God that it was dark enough that she couldn’t see just how red he’d turned. She must have found whatever it was that she was looking for in his expression, though, because she reached around and put her hands around his neck, drawing him close.
He’d never been much for dancing. Since they were kids, he had sat out nearly every slow dance there was. And now, years later, he was at a loss. He had no idea where to put his hands, where to put his feet, where to look; and yet, here, with his hands on her waist and his eyes locked on hers, nothing felt more right. And in his heart, hope budded, a hope that maybe his feelings were not as one-sided as he had previously believed.
A misstep, and he nearly stepped on her toes. He laughed nervously. If his hands weren’t on her waist, they would likely be shaking. “Sorry,” he whispered sheepishly, “I told you I’m bad at this.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered back, a small smile on her lips, “I’m patient enough.”
They swayed in time with the music for a while, and it was the closest they’d ever been to each other. Neither of them spoke, like they both knew there was something magical between them that words would only disturb.
“Hey,” he told her softly, “Thanks for coming. I know it was a lot to ask. You had every right to say no.”
Mikasa shot him a wry look. “And miss the free wine?” She was quiet for a moment before she began to say, “Hey, Eren…”
“Yeah?”
“When your brother said in his vows that he didn’t know what love was supposed to look like… what did he mean?”
Eren wasn’t really sure what to tell her. Mikasa had known him and his family almost all her life, but his dad’s first family was a topic that he didn’t really broach at all. He glanced at her, and the look on her face was patient. He knew she wouldn’t force him to tell her if he didn’t want to, but he also knew he couldn’t keep a thing from her if he tried. “You know that Dad was married before mom, but it wasn’t a good marriage,” he started. “They didn’t love each other, not really. I guess they must have once, but… stopped. They had Zeke because they thought it would keep them together, but it turns out adding another human being to the equation doesn’t really fix things.”
“Is that why you don’t believe in love?” she asked him then.
He looked at her, surprised by the question, and less surprised to find a wine-drunk flush on his best friend’s face, probably left over from what they drank that afternoon. He didn’t think she would have asked it sober. He felt his heart pound in his chest, the rhythm steadily picking up as he watched her meet his gaze and look away, embarrassed. Did I say too much, that look on her face asked? Did I ruin the moment? He watched her fold up inside herself again, shrinking behind those walls that she had always carefully put up around everyone else but him.
No, he wasn’t going to let her do that with him, too.
“I want to, though,” he answered, his voice soft.
Was this what she meant by wanting to have a home to return to? For some reason, the years he’d spent ducking commitments and making up excuses not to fall in love with her just seemed silly to him now. He had been giving his heart away so easily as if to keep it safe, when the one person who would have taken care of it from the start had been here all along.
Mikasa blinked up at him, as if she wasn’t quite sure if she’d heard him correctly. He wondered for a moment what she would do if he suddenly reached out to brush that stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. If his hand brushed lightly against her cheek, right below her scar. If he gave into his impulses and cupped her face with his hand. Would she lean into his touch? Would she pull away? His brother’s words from a few minutes ago came back to him and he knew he had been right: it was the wondering that was the hardest part.
Throwing caution to the wind, Eren leaned in, his eyes half-lidded as he touched his lips to hers. She tasted like coming home after years and years of being away. She felt warm and sweet and somehow even better than he dreamed she would. She kissed him back, too, pressing with just the slightest fervor, telling him that maybe she had been waiting for this for so long, too.
They pulled away, and Eren touched his forehead to hers tenderly. His heart felt like it would burst, like his leap of faith had opened the floodgates and he was no longer in control. But he felt oddly serene now, in the middle of this dance floor with her. Maybe there was a purpose to his heart laid bare at her feet after all. “Mikasa, I’m in love with you,” he said quietly, “I have been for a while.”
Mikasa laughed a little at that, the blush still coloring her cheeks. “Didn’t your brother say it doesn’t count when one of you is drunk?”
He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then I guess I’ll have to tell you again tomorrow.”
It turned out this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.