Disclaimer: I do NOT own Attack on Titan, nor do I own the cover photo. All rights go to their respective owners.

Author's note: I couldn't get this outta my head, so I HAD to do it. I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'm assuming you all have read the manga and or watched the anime. So, I was wondering which you prefer: the Scout Regiment or the Survey Corps? I prefer the term Survey Corps, but I don't know which is the official title for it. Someone care to clear that up for me?

Feedback: Would be so, so appreciated! I'm very new to the SnK/AoT fandom and would like to know if I'm keeping everyone in character. That's a major peeve to me (unless it's AU and they're supposed to be that way).

Warning: if you haven't read the manga, then most likely this will contain some minor spoilers.

Rating: T for language.

Setting: during the time Levi has the group hiding at a cabin.

.20 Questions.

Eren Yeager groans and rolls onto his side - only for his legs to become even more tangled in the woolly blanket laying halfway across him. He grits his teeth and kicks at the blanket until it's no longer touching any part of of his body, not even the bottoms of his bare feet. He smacks his lips, relaxing - then the cold air that wafts about the cabin assaults him with an vengeance, causing him to curl up into a ball, his chocolate brown hair sticking up in every which way as he buries his face deeper into the fluff of his pillow. It's no use.

He sits up and hunches his shoulders forward, turquoise irises glaring into the dark hatefully. "Damn cold weather, stupid blanket, stupid floor," he grumbles as he clambers to his feet and walks towards the bedroom door, careful not to walk on Connie or Armin on the way out. He rubs as his face while approaching the bathroom at the end of the hallway, thankful it's too late for Captain Shit to be up.

He really doesn't feel like hearing his mouth about now. He can imagine Levi's blank face peering up at him and saying something along the lines of "Why are you up so early, you little shit? Ready to clean the cellar again?" It's enough to make his stomach lurch -

Or maybe that's because he really has to take a leak about now.

He enters the bathroom, gently pats the wall for the light switch, then shuts the door.

Once he's done taking care of his business, he starts to head out, only to pause when he sees a notebook laying on the sole shelf hanging on the wall by the door. Normally, he would have ignored an object so common, but something seems off about it. It doesn't look withered or aged like the other things left in the cabin. In fact, it looks fairly new.

Eren frowns and reaches for the tiny notebook, pulling it to him once able. He arches an eyebrow as he opens the cover and back, looking for a name, but doesn't find one. That's when he notices that there is a pen about a quarter through the book, marking a certain page.

I'm too curious to let this go. Maybe it's Hange's or Levi's . . . they're probably hiding things from me - and they might be in here.

He works his bottom lip between his teeth and locks the door (why had he left it unlock to begin with is beyond him) and takes a seat on the rim of the bathtub. He hooks his finger between the pages and removes the pen, flipping the top over to reveal the section in the notebook being marked. He blinks. It's just a word and in a decidedly feminine hand writing.

It doesn't look like Levi's for sure (his is more like chicken scratches if anything), nor Hange's (too small and neat). Mikasa's writing is more bubbly, while Sasha and Historia both write with sharper lines.

To be honest, he doesn't recognize the writing at all - and he's spent numerous years with most of the people in the cabin other than Levi and Hange.

Eren scratches his head. It must be the previous owners', but how? The pages are still white - not faded yellow. And the writing isn't smudged or old. Perhaps he just forgot what everyone's hand writing looked like.

That must be it.

"I guess it doesn't really matter . . ." he mutters to himself, his gaze focusing on what the word says. He sighs when he realizes that all it says is a simple 'hello'. He flips through the rest of the notebook, checking each page, but they are all blank. He knots his eyebrows and turns back to the page that was marked and takes the pen into his hand. Should he reply?

"Ah, what the hell, why not?" It is boring around here after all.

He writes 'what's up' - no punctuation involved - and returns both the pen and notebook to its previous position.

"I want this whole damn house clean. You shitheads are like pigs - disgusting." Levi says with a broom in hand and a white handkerchief tied around his neck. He's missing his usual green Survey Corps coat and is in just his white pants, boots, and a long-sleeved, olive green thermal. His sharp eyes flicker across the faces of his squad, narrowed.

Eren hopes and prays he isn't stuck on kitchen duty. It's the worst - never ending until after the dishes from supper are washed. And if there is one thing that Levi is picky about - it's how clean the dishes are.

"Sasha and Historia," he begins, gaining the attention of the two females, "you are to clean the bathrooms now and tonight." They scramble to the bathroom. He turns towards Connie. "You," he says, motioning towards the bald teen, "and Armin will clean the upper rooms." The two give solid salutes before sauntering off to do as they were told. "Jean and Mikasa - you two will be on kitchen duty."

Eren watches the two head for the kitchen to prepare breakfast (most likely) before turning his attention back on Levi. The short male ignores him and starts working on sweeping the living room floor.

"Sir . . . ?" he murmurs, confused - but it doesn't last long. Hange prances into the room with a wide smile on her face. You've got to be kidding me.

"You won't be working with the Captain today, Eren," she says, wrapping her arms around Eren's bicep and begins pulling him towards the front door. She doesn't stop pulling him along until they reach the shed around back. She lets go to open the doors, revealing medical tools and a chair. Eren grimaces at the sight.

"I wish I had gotten kitchen duty . . ."

Hange blinks. "What did you say, Eren?"

The sixteen-year-old scratches the back of his head nervously. "Um, nothing."

"If you say so~!" Hange says in a singsong voice, guiding Eren over to the chair and pushing him into it. She picks up a scalpel and looks it over before returning her focus back on Eren. He gulps as she adds: "Now this won't hurt too bad."

Later that night, Eren comes in after a long day of experiments with Hange. He feels like a titan chewed him up and spit him right back out. In fact, with the multiple partial transformations he had to make earlier, it's a miracle that he's even awake. Normally, after so long, his body just shuts down and he loses control. When that happens, he tends to wake up a few days later with no recollection of the experiments even taking place.

Apparently he's able to keep up his titan form longer. Then again, he only half changed - just enough to fit inside the shed. It most likely would have been more difficult to keep up his full titan form. Hange also learned that his regenerative abilities while in both human form and titan form have improved substantially. Still yet, he feels crappy and wants to go straight to bed, but he hasn't ate all day either, and his stomach is begging him for sustenance.

He enters the living room, only to see that everyone has already ate and are sitting around talking. Jean and Mikasa aren't anywhere to be seen. His stomach growls, urging him to hurry to the kitchen before everything is cleaned up.

"Well, don't you look like titan shit," Jean says as he makes his way to the table. He glares at the dual-toned haired male.

"Shut the hell up, horse face," he retorts weakly, his head throbbing. Mikasa makes her way over to him and takes the seat next to him, raising a hand to his forehead. The contact of her cool skin against his own causes him to shiver.

"You're pale and your breathing is erratic, plus you're burning up," she says, withdrawing her hand as if his skin burnt her (probably did). She scowls. "Hange went too far again, didn't she?"

"Eh, whatever," Eren answers with a shrug. "Did you save me any supper? I'm starving."

"Yeah, I'll fix your plate," she replies with a bob of her head. She starts to get up but then gasps. Eren looks at her funny. "Your nose is bleeding."

Eren raises a hand to his upper lip, gingerly touching the skin there, only for the tip of his index finger to come in contact with a warm, sticky substance. "Damn it! Not again!" He removes the handkerchief tied around his neck and wipes at the blood. When he's done, Mikasa already has a plate of food and a glass of water in front of him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Jean joins them at the table once the rest of the dishes are dry and put away, the water in the sink left for the dishes Eren dirties up. "So," he begins, propping an elbow up on the table and resting his chin in his upturned palm, "what kind of experiments did Hange do on you today?"

"Just testing how long I could maintain form and how well my regenerative abilities work . . ."

Mikasa stands up. "I'll be right back."

Both males raises their eyebrows at the oriental. "Alright."

There's an awkward silence that passes between the two until she's out of earshot, then Jean says: "You take that girl for granted, you know?"

Despite Eren feeling like a titan munched on him, he stiffens, his gaze narrowing. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You're the only one that she even looks at - and yet you treat her like garbage." Jean snaps, frowning. "What keeps her around is beyond me. You don't deserve her, nor Armin. And those people that died for you? Tch . . ."

Eren's hold on his fork tightens until the metal bends, memories of him and Mikasa agreeing to be together from now on resurfacing. "Don't go running your mouth about something you don't anything about, Jean," he growls, voice low and deep in pitch.

"I do know the pain you cause her," Jean remarks calmly, hoping no one in the living room will hear their conversation. That and the fact that Eren is too physically drained to even defend himself. There's no point in starting a fistfight. "I've seen you yell at her for 'babying' you, and when you leave, there's that look on her face again. When you got ate by that titan in front of Armin and we all thought you were dead - she went crazy. Almost got herself killed, too."

Eren stands up from the table on wobbly legs, his head feeling funny. He grasps the side of his face, his skin coming in contact with beads of sweat lingering along his brow. "I don't feel like hearing your mouth right now, Kirstein," he mumbles weakly, leaving his food and starting for his room.

Jean stands up. "Wow, are you okay? Not that I really care . . ."

"I'm fine!" he answers tersely, swaying a few steps just as Mikasa walks back in.

"Eren?" she says, looking at his plate, the corners of her lips pulling downward. "You barely touched your food . . ." He stumbles, about to hit the ground, but Mikasa catches him. "Eren! Your nose - it's bleeding again."

"Sorry," he murmurs, steadying himself against her, "so tired."

Mikasa wraps one of Eren's arms around her shoulders while slipping one of hers around his back. Once she's certain he won't fall, she starts aiding him towards the stairs. "Let's get you back up to your room."

Once the others catch sight of the duo, Armin rushes forward to help. "Eren!"

"Will he be okay?" Sasha questions with wide eyes.

"Yeah, just tired . . ." Eren mumbles while Armin wipes the blood from his nose.

"Sorry, Eren," Hange says, watching him with an apologetic expression. "Went a little too far."

"Yeah, you did." Mikasa snaps guiding Eren up the stairs.

Once they reach his room, Armin readies Eren's bed in the floor while Mikasa keeps him upright in the meantime. Eren hates having to rely on them like this. "I'm sorry, Mikasa, Armin," he mutters, the tension in his knees releasing while Mikasa lowers him onto the makeshift bed once Armin is out of the way. And he had just begun to enjoy her warmth - huh?

"Don't apologize. It's Hange's fault for always pushing you past your limits." Mikasa remarks, placing a hand against his cheek. "Goodnight."

Armin smiles and nods. "Yeah, goodnight."

Eren's eyes begin to slump, Mikasa's warm hand still against his cheek. "Night, guys . . ."

Miraculously enough, Eren awakens at some point in the middle of the night - the urge to use the bathroom becoming more important than letting his fatigued body recuperate.

Once again he is tangled up in blankets and sheets, his legs pressed together uncomfortably. He manages to kick the annoying things away after a few slurred curses and gets to his feet, swaying from the strain gravity places on his muscles.

The sixteen-year-old stumbles out of the bedroom, resisting the urge to kick Jean upside the head on the way out, and ends up in the hallway, one hand pressed against the wall to his right for support. His entire world is spinning, and he really wants to just go back to bed (especially since the cold air is biting at his exposed feet), but the sharp pain originating within in his bladder refuses to let him do as such.

Eventually he makes it to the bathroom and takes care of his business. Just as he's about to leave, he catches sight of the same notebook from before. It has been moved from where he placed it, the pen jutted out from the wrong side. He blinks. It has definitely been tampered with. Most likely it was the owner of the little notebook's doing.

He internally contemplates whether or not to leave it be, but his curiosity gets the best of him and he soon finds himself perched on the edge of the bathtub, the tiny object in his hands. He flips to the marked page and sees that there is a reply . . .

'Who is this?'

Eren scratches the back of his head with the butt-end of the pen, one eyebrow arched. Whomever it was, didn't respond properly to his question, but he doesn't really give a damn. "Two can play at this game." he mutters, pen poised over the paper, ready to write at any given second.

After a moment of pondering on what he should do, he jots down his response - 'How about a game of twenty questions? I write down two questions and you answer, then I do the same for you? Ones you don't want to answer, you don't have to.' - he pauses to tap his chin, composing two questions in his head. He eventually settles on: 1. Are you male or female? and 2. Favorite hobby?

There. Two questions that aren't that personal and will surely receive an answer. He knew it would be best to keep from asking obvious things such as hair color, length, and height. He was actually excited to figure out this mysterious person's identity on his own - it beats doing nothing but sitting around cleaning or being experimented on from sunrise to sunset - and getting to the point right away would put an end to the challenge.

He tucks the pen between the pages (making sure to put the pen at the top of the page instead of the side like the owner had) and puts the notebook in its previous place. He then heads back to his room to get some sleep for the night.

The next few days go the same. Eren learns that the mysterious person that owns the notebook is a female, enjoys watching the sunrise every morning, hates crunchy bread, but will eat it if that's all that's available, dreams of a future where fighting isn't necessary, and cares deeply for her friends. He also learns that her favorite season is fall and that she likes to bake.

So far, he still hasn't been able to come to a conclusion on who this girl is. He's considered everyone - Mikasa, Sasha, Hange, and Historia. The only one that he's knocked out is Sasha due to the fact that the mystery girl's favorite hobby is watching the sunrise in the morning instead of stuffing her face and stealing meat from the pantry.

Becoming impatient, he decides it is time to enlist Armin's help.

After supper one night, when he and the blond have both been stuck on kitchen duty, while washing dishes (Eren's washing, Armin's drying), he peers over at his long time friend and says: "I need to ask your opinion on something."

Armin dries a dish and puts it away before leaning against the counter and gives Eren his full attention. "What is it?"

"Don't say anything until I'm done, okay?" Eren gives Armin a pointed look that left little room for argument. The blond crosses his arms and nods. "Alright," he takes a deep breath and begins more nervous than he thought he would be, mainly because it is a strange situation, "I found this notebook a little over a week ago - it had a message in it and I replied. We've been writing back and forth ever since, playing a game of twenty questions - don't give me that shitty look -"

"You sound like the Captain now -"

"Whatever. But as I was saying, we've been playing twenty questions - and I can't seem to figure out who it is and it's really starting to bother me."

"Well, maybe you should actually talk to some of the people stuck here other than Mikasa and myself. Learn more about your fellow teammates."

Eren runs his hands through his chocolaty tresses, his damp fingers catching a few strands and tugging them out. He doesn't even notice the sting as he sighs. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't know much about his friends - hell, he doesn't even know that much about Mikasa. Ever since they've come into each others lives, they've spent most of the time focused on surviving.

A sharp pang of guilt flares in his chest.

"You're right," he says, leaning against the counter beside Armin. He places his palms on either side of himself and adds: "I guess it's all about the challenge. But damn am I impatient. I just want to know who this mystery girl is already!" He turns back to the sink and places his hands in the sudsy water, his fingers wrapping around a plate to clean. "I was excited at first, but who knows when we'll leave here. I'd hate to not find out before then."

"That's why you need to take my advice and just start talking to the others."

Eren rolls his eyes and snorts. "Yeah, yeah."

Suddenly the two teens feel a chill run up their spines and they look behind them - only to see Levi Ackerman with a dark look on his face. They both gulp. "Sir?" Armin begins hesitantly. Levi doesn't answer, opting to walk around to Armin's side and open the cabinet, pulling out one of the plates that had just been put away. The short captain's gray gaze focuses on the dish, his hands flipping it over. He scowls.

"What the hell is this?" he hisses, pointing at a faint water spot on the dish (a spot that Armin must have missed and had air dried as a result). Eren feels his heart drop into his stomach, knowing all too well where this conversation is going.

"I-It's a water spot, sir," Armin answers nervously, blue eyes wide.

Levi knots his eyebrows together. "That's correct, shithead," he says, placing the dish in Armin's hands before stepping back. "Start over."

Once he's out of the room Eren groans. "Well fuck."

The first person Eren decides to initiate a conversation with is Hange - and for good reasons. For starters, he tends to spend most of his days with her getting experimented on, and she would be the type to place a notebook in the bathroom and randomly start a conversation with someone with little notes for entertainment. He's well aware that she's a little odd, so it only seems natural to start with her.

While she's looking through a few stray notes laying on a table in the shed, Eren casually strikes up a conversation with the older woman. "So, besides taking pleasure in torturing me, what other things do you like to do?"

Hange looks over at him, smiling. "I don't torture you."

Eren raises his eyebrows. "You don't call slicing my forearms open torture?"

"No, cutting off an arm or a leg, that's torture." She taps her chin. "Not that it matters, you'd grow 'em right back."

The brunet shrugs. "I guess, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, because it does." He leans against the door frame. "But back to the point - what are your hobbies?"

"Such a random question, but I guess I like to workout. When I get free time I do some yoga and weight training. And sometimes I like to see how my body reacts to different types of pain."

Well. There's another one down - two more to go.

The next day, Eren finds himself stuck on bathroom duty with Mikasa. He feels genuinely upset that he never noticed just how little they know about each other after spending the last seven years together. He used to know her when they were children, happy and living in Shiganshina, spending countless nights sharing their thoughts and dreams, likes and dislikes.

But now? After they've changed?

He only knows the basics - favorite color (garnet) and that she fears losing him or Armin. He knows that when she gets nervous she tucks her hair behind her ear and bites on her bottom lip. And how when she's angry she knots her eyebrows together and how she omits all emotion from her expression when she's deeply hurt. When she's sad, she sometimes will cry or go off on her own.

He knows her behaviors, but that's because he had to in order to survive.

After they lost their home and Armin's grandfather was sent to his death with the rest of the adults that had survived the incident when Wall Maria had been destroyed, they only had each other to rely on. Those days had been rough and often Mikasa and Eren had to resort to stealing food while Armin scouted out escape routes for them to get away or would find ways to talk them out of trouble.

They also were forced to sleep outside on the streets or in abandoned warehouses, huddling together just to stay warm. Their clothes quickly became ragged and they only got new ones when Hannes had enough spare money to purchase some for them. Usually, they would just take them to a seamstress to be patched up and that would have to make do.

During the winter Hannes would let them stay with him, but they hated being a burden to him.

Eren thinks he let them stay with him because of the guilt he harbored after he couldn't find the strength to confront the titan that ate Eren's mother. It was made obvious when Hannes protected Eren and Mikasa from the same titan - only to end up getting eaten himself.

The memory, like the memory of his mother dying, will always sting. Hannes was like an uncle to Eren - family - and someone else he couldn't save.

"Eren."

He blinks and glances over, meeting Mikasa's dark gaze with his own. "What?"

"You zoned out," she says and hands him a sponge. "I already cleaned the bathtub."

"Oh, sorry," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "I guess we should start on the floors next."

"Yeah. Then I'll get the toilet -"

"And I'll start on the walls. The baseboards will have to be done last."

Pleased with the game plan, the two get down to business. Eren grabs a metal bucket from the corner and sits it down beside the tub. He turns on the water and gets it as hot as he can stand before filling the bucket, mindful to add soap. When he's done he places it in the floor beside Mikasa and gets down on his knees in front of her, both dipping their sponges in the soapy water.

They start scrubbing the floor in silence. Eren contemplates on what he should say, because he is determined to figure out who the mystery writer is, but doesn't know how to begin. It has always been comfortable between him and Mikasa - except when he is upset with her or vice-versa. However, right now, his mind is working about as well as his titan form without legs - or in other words, not very good.

And now that he thinks about it - what will he do if he finds out who the mystery writer is? Look at them, grinning, and say, "Oh, that was a good one! You were really pulling my leg! Hah!" It sounds about as awkward as when he thought Petra and the others were going to kill him after he went titan to pick up a spoon.

"Eren."

He's brought from his internal reverie once more, blinking and startled. "Huh?"

Mikasa's eyes shifts back to the floor, her cheeks a light shade of pink. He arches a brow and follows her stare - his sponge is over top of hers and the fingers of his other are tangled with hers. He feels heat rush up his cheeks as he falls on his rear, separating their hands in the process. "Shit!"

"Is there something on your mind? You're acting strange."

"Uh," his gaze briefly flickers over to the shelf on the wall where the notebook sits before settling on his face. "N-No. It's nothing."

"You can talk to me."

"Forget it," he says, waving his free hand in a dismissive manner. Mikasa doesn't look too convinced - in fact, she looks troubled. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and bites on her bottom lip. He frowns. "Now you're the one acting weird. What's wrong?"

The rounds of her cheeks become even more red, her teeth tugging harder on her bottom lip. "W-Well . . ." she trails off, clearly insecure about what she has to say. He sighs.

"Just spit it out," he says, "I'm not going to bite or anything."

Her eyes dart to his face then over to the wall, her chest heaving with a deep breath. "It's me."

"What?" Eren questions, confused. Mikasa presses her knees together, her hands moving to her lap, despite the wet sponge soaking her pant legs.

"The notebook - it's mine."

Eren's eyes widen as it dawns on him what exactly she's implying - she's the mystery girl. Then that means - "Why? Why did you . . ."

"I had a feeling you would be the one to find it," she answers. "When I realized it was you based on your answers, I kept it going." Her shoulders hunch forward. "And . . . since all of this has started, we - me, you, and Armin - haven't had a chance to slow down and talk as family, as friends."

There's an ache in Eren's chest. He gives a soft chuckle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We're close - but not like we used to be. This made me realize how much we've grown - how much you've changed."

Mikasa nods. "Time does that, but," she pauses, her lashes lowering far enough to kiss her cheeks, "one thing that has never changed is how I feel about you."

Eren blushes, recalling Mikasa's words when they thought they were going to be eaten by the same titan that got his mother. How she cried and poured her heart out to him - when she told him how much he meant to her. He remembers telling her that they would always be together - and he meant that.

He moves closer, his weight on his knees and the palm of his right hand, his left moving to rest against the side of her face. Her eyes widen momentarily, as if asking him if he truly means what he is implicating. He gives her a lopsided smile that assures her it is, and she lets her lips curve upward, one of her own hands rising to overlap his.

"Just so you know," he begins, his voice breaking, "I'm bad with this shit."

Mikasa giggles softly, the sound like music to Eren's ears. It's genuine and a sound he hasn't heard in so long. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it.

"I know," she says, leaning forward, their faces so close that Eren's breath now brushes against her lips. Turquoise clashes with silver, a mutual passion shared between the two - then Eren's hand moves to the nape of her neck and pulls her to him, their lips smashing with bruising force.

Mikasa arches her back with a moan, her chest bumping into Eren's. He lets out a throaty groan and slides his legs forward, separating Mikasa's knees and settling between them. She doesn't mind, dropping her sponge to wrap both her arms around his neck, accidentally causing him to slip on the wet spot in front of her, his body ending up on top of her with nothing but his right hand supporting his weight.

Neither pay any mind, more focused on each other's mouth. Eren's tongue darts out, sliding across her bottom lip, begging for entrance which she grants with a soft sigh. He doesn't waste any time, exploring the dips of her mouth before she begins to fight back, their tongues battling for dominance.

Mikasa wins and flips him over, their mouths separating as she straddles his hips with her stout legs, her hands moving to grip the front of his shirt. Both peer at each other with flustered visages and swollen lips.

Eren opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't get the chance to. Mikasa pulls him upright, their lips slamming together again. Eren's hands find the bottoms of Mikasa's thighs for support as their mouths work in sync. Both feel a heat pooling in the depths of their abdomens, increasing their need to become one.

"E-Eren," Mikasa moans after breaking the kiss, her head lolling to the side, allowing Eren's mouth to assault the delicate flesh covering her jugular vein. He nips the skin before applying a firm, yet gentle kiss, then taking the skin between his lips and suckling, one hand moving up to support the small of her back as she becomes nothing more than putty in his hold.

"A-Ah," she hisses, her legs tightening their hold against his waist, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. This is what she was craving - missing out on. She never thought it could feel so good to be in Eren's arms, his lips moving across the dips of her neck and shoulder, one hand rubbing her inner thigh, causing her to tremble. She doesn't want it to end -

"What the fuck?"

Eren and Mikasa's heads both snap towards the door with wide eyes. Standing there is none other than Jean and Levi. Levi has a dark look in tact while Jean appears to be in a state of disbelief. "M-Mikasa?" he squeaks out, bottom lip quivering.

Levi scowls. "You two are supposed to be cleaning the bathroom. Not fornicating." he snaps, turning away, pulling Jean with him. "Just thought you should know: Everyone can hear you down stairs. Disgusting."

"S-Sorry," Mikasa stammers, climbing off of Eren and adjusting her shirt.

Eren eventually follows suit (after taking a few more moments to collect his wits) and clambers to his feet, refusing to meet the other males' stares. He hears Levi snort. "Whatever. Just finish cleaning the bathroom."

Once they're out of sight, Eren allows his eyes to meet Mikasa's. "That was awkward."

"I don't really care," she says, approaching him. She places a hand on his shoulder and begins pushing him back.

"M-Mikasa?" he croaks out, shocked by the girl's bold behavior that seems so unlike her.

She doesn't stop pushing until his back hits the wall, her body molding perfectly against his. Her lustful gaze bores into his, sending a shiver along the length of his spine. She smirks at his reaction and runs her hand down his chest. "Now . . . where were we?"

END

This ended up a lot longer than I intended. But I had a lot of fun writing it. I know Mikasa became OOC at the end, but I think in their situation where they could die at any given second, love wouldn't be a thing taken for granted. They never know when their loved ones are going to just be gone - and it's sad and scary.

Anyways, sorry for any mistakes. I proofread multiple times, but some things slip right by me. I try my best though.

Please share your thoughts! I'm always up for improving.