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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Mikasasha
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Published:
2016-01-25
Words:
1,138
Chapters:
1/1
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4
Kudos:
150
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So red

Summary:

Sasha was cold, freezing actually, but a cozy warm filled her; and (maybe) the new red scarf around her neck had nothing to do with it.

Notes:

For MikaSasha Week // Day 1: Matching scarfs

Work Text:

“You don’t like it, do you?”

The soft fabric filled her with warm and she was scared to damage it. Her eyes moved from the beautiful scarf on her lap to the gorgeous girl next to her. A million of words lost in her mind, as if they traveled to a far, far away land. Moments ago she shivered intensely; no one could blame her, even the weather found a way to screwed them. The frozen castle, as Connie named the place, needed more than a few logs to stay cozy, but they hadn’t time to cut firewood. Well, Mikasa made time; she got the ones burning in the fire. The memory of the girl with the red scarf, using an ax while her cheeks turned pink-red, and the breeze playing with her darker than black silky hair, made Sasha blush with fierce. For once, she forgave the cold climate.

Sasha cleaned her hands in her skirt, lecturing herself for her negligence. She should have cleaned them properly before dinner as the Captain told her. Mikasa’s eyes followed her actions with curiosity, wrinkling her nose in the most endearing way, the same one that always put a big smile on Sasha’s face. She wanted to tell Mikasa something, but Sasha didn’t remember how to mix letters and form words. Why was she so nervous? She had made fun of Jean so many times, though she wasn’t better. She talked with Mikasa every day, sharing bunk beds since their training days and having a close relationship with her; they were friends. If Sasha thought about everyone in her squad, sure thing she would say they were the most important people in her life; but, Mikasa Ackerman came first. Connie was a close second.

When her hands passed her meticulous examination, Sasha decided it was fine to lift the scarf, speaking with an unusual shyness, “Is it really for me?”

“Yes,” Mikasa answered and a slight hesitation crossed her face; a rare view. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to…”

“Don’t be silly! It’s cozy and soft, and as red as yours, and I love her…,” Sasha said and her words were losing strength; she finished whispering “… so very much.”

While she was speaking, the brunette tried to tie the scarf around her neck, Mikasa’s style, but failing big time. In the weirdest way possible, Sasha tangled herself, and —oddly enough— the scarf trapped her head like bunny ears. A contagious contained-crackle coming from Mikasa ended with Sasha’s snorting guffaw, which made Mikasa laugh louder.

Amazed eyes surrounded them. Sasha’s laugh was part of their lives; she always overcame crisis and sadness, smiling even if the world crumbled beneath her feet. But Mikasa, with her gloomy aura and her deadpan expression, was a different story. Mikasa Ackerman didn’t show her smile often, and her mirth belonged to the “104’s mysteries”. They assumed she laughed; she had to laugh. Everyone laughs, right? So, she should do it around Armin and Eren, or so they believed. If someone asked her teammates, yes, they remembered her laughing, or it was a closed-lip smile? Though, something like this —a red-faced laugh full of teeth— could be described like an utter astonishment. A few allowed smiles, crackles, and laughs, but all joined them without questions; the girls were contagious. Connie watched the scene in awe and when Mikasa got distracted, the boy gave to Sasha encouragement with a knowing smile and a thumbs-up. Sasha shushed him and blushed more.

In that moment, Sasha Braus resembled a tomato.

When their sudden and uncontrollable outburst of laughter stopped, Sasha had tears of joy in her eyes. Everyone returned to their own business; the atmosphere lightened and hope, perhaps, filled the place. Mikasa looked at Sasha, closing the space between them, and then she took her face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs across her cheeks to dry Sasha’s happy tears. Sasha listened to every one of her heartbeats; she swallowed and her breath became slow.

“Thank you so much,” Sasha spoke, trying to express her gratitude. “But… why? It’s not my Birthday,” she caressed the scarf, forcing her eyes to avoid Mikasa’s lips.

“You’ve been freezing all winter.”

Mikasa rested her weight on her arms, removing her hands from Sasha’s face; much to Sasha’s disappointment.

“We match now.” Sasha’s fingers moved and she almost touched Mikasa’s scarf, a wide and perfect grin spread on her face. “Neck ornaments are the key to badassery, right? I’m gonna be unstoppable now, and titans would be afraid of me. Thou shall fear Sasha, the titan-slayer.

The girl stood and fought against imaginary monsters, waving and brandishing her fork as a lethal weapon. Something about her screamed easiness, power, and possibilities. Sasha was so busy defeating imaginary titans to see the brightness in Mikasa’s eyes, her soft smile, and her pure admiration. The renewed titan slayer dropped next to Mikasa, so happy, the scarf-bunny-ears crooked.

“You look so pretty in red,” Mikasa declared, whilst she rearranged the scarf around Sasha. The girl’s heart hammered in her chest and she blushed again, harder. Her face matched hers and Mikasa’s scarf. The stormy eyes of Mikasa traced every inch of Sasha’s face. When Mikasa finished arranging the scarf, her hand caressed with extreme delicacy the extraordinary flushed cheeks, and she removed a lock from her friend’s face. “Just like that.”

Sasha watched her in silence, unable to speak. What were words anyway? And how people used them? Her face shined in red, and Mikasa stared right at her face, not the scarf around her neck. Sasha wondered if the shy and introverted Mikasa Ackerman was conscious of how much of lady-killer she acted.

Since when did sweet-and-shy Mikasa flirt?

Mikasa smiled and bit her lip.

Oh, dear mother of Sina, Rose and Maria!

Sasha was so screw. She knew it, as clear as mountain water, or as vivid as the flames coming from the bonfire.

Sasha took the potato on her plate, a creamy and steamy potato, cutting it into halves —or closest to halves as possible, which means one was bigger. Her eyes pondered for a second the content in both hands, wondering if the distribution was fair enough. With a timid gaze, the girl offered to Mikasa a piece. For a moment, the bewitching gaze moved to Sasha’s hands as she took the important gift. Sasha’s eyes scintillated, mimicking the flames.

“Sasha, this one is bigger than yours.”

What a beautiful smile Mikasa dedicated to her; slow and sultry. She had a depth behind her eyes, and Sasha hoped there was something more she wanted to tell her.

“It’s for you, so it is fine.”

The subtle curve on Mikasa’s face turned into a smirk and she bit her lips again.

Yes, Sasha knew it, she was so screw.

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