Friday nights were reserved for you and Eren.
A long-standing tradition that has never been neglected. But somehow, some way, you sit here in the prettiest dress in his favorite color, alone.
You’re over crying.
Over trying to talk sense into him.
But marriage is a battle. A long and treacherous struggle that never quite reaches its peak.
This is the Mount Everest of your marriage. A fight to the top is about to take you down.
If he senses it, it seems he doesn’t care. And if he doesn’t care…well what’s left to say?
You eat dinner alone. For the first time on a Friday night in the frigid December weather. You’ve left the window open, hoping to feel something other than the numbness taking over you.
You have a few glasses of wine. Maybe more then a few. And by the time you’re stumbling into your pajamas and getting ready for bed, the numbness has transformed into anger then the slow descent into heartbreak begins.
Eren has always wanted to take care of you. So he says. And he has. You’ve never wanted for anything. He always procured what you asked for, even things you didn’t.
His lifestyle—your lifestyle— has been bought and paid for with blood, sweat, and tears. Now you question if it’s worth it.
The tears drop against your satin pillow without a warning. Then come the sniffles and before long you’re openly sobbing into a bed that only you occupy.
That’s how you fall asleep. Reeking of red wine and reeling with emotions that leave you open and vulnerable.
You don’t hear him come in. But an eye open tells you that it’s half past 1. He sighs heavily when he opens the door to your bedroom. His shoes thud on the linoleum floor, but he stops just before the bathroom. Even with your eyes closed you’d know his whole routine.
He toes off his boots, strips out of his clothes, and turns on his shower water. He likes it steaming. Not cold, not warm but scalding. And for the first time, you wonder just what he’s washing off. He checks the water thrice to make sure it’s the right temperature. Then there’s the click of the glass door shutting.
You lay there until he gets out and even then your ears follow his every movement. He goes back to the kitchen, finds his plate in the microwave and warms it up. He sits on the couch and turns on the show you’ve stopped watching together. Perhaps that’s because you never see him any more. He’s always gone when you wake up and arrives after you’ve fallen asleep.
He never comes home anymore. And you never ask what keeps him. You’re resigned to sit and wait and in a way that’s become your norm. Six months of barely seeing a man you used to crave is a jarring experience.
There was fighting at first. Yelling, screaming, and throwing dishes that narrowly missed his head. Now it’s…nothing.
The television clicks off in the living room and you hear his now slippered feet shuffle back to the bedroom.
He stops in the doorway for a second. You assume he’ll climb into bed like he always does. But tonight his feet shift until he stands above you. His presence a force to contend with.
He sighs and it’s a tired thing. A sound that says let’s stop pretending. But you can’t. You actually turn the other way, shifting until your back faces him.
“I know you’re awake.”
Your body betrays you. Literally shuddering at the very sound of his voice. So you don’t pretend. You shift back to face him.
And in his face there’s relief.
“It’s been a while, mama.” His eyes crinkle with the huge smile he gives you. And your eyes begin to water all over again.
He squats down to eye level and gives you a kiss on your forehead. And it’s supposed to be gentle, really. A small act that says “I’m here.” But it enrages you.
How dare he? Make you feel all the things you’ve gelled over.
“I hate you,” it comes out before you can help it. Your mouth clenches shut as if you can somehow put the words back in your mouth.
His eyes lower a fraction and a frown mars his features. But in spite of his expression he murmurs, “I know.”
And that hurts even more.
“Baby, I know.” His voice cracks on the pet name.
He knees hit the floor then. And you haven’t moved an inch.
“I always want to take care of you. You understand that, right?” he breathes out and it only further incites you.
You sit up then, eyes full of unchecked emotion. “This is what you call taking care of me? You never being home and me wondering where you are? Walking in here like you own everything in here, including me? Is this taking care of me?”
His tears spill over and the silence is so void that you swear you can hear his teardrops touch the newly waxed floor.
But you’re on a roll now. “I’m tired, Eren. Marriage is a partnership and I feel like I’m going at it alone. If you don’t want me-” Your voice chokes on the words, trying to not have a full blown panic attack. “Then let me go.”
He sits on the bed then, eyes alight with downright misery. “I know I haven’t been the best. I don’t even deserve to come home to you. The person I would give my life for. The person I crave to see even though you’re asleep when I do. My person.”
He lips push out in disdain and he grabs your hand, “If you left me, I’d die. I just feel like I’m always on go. At work, I’m needed constantly. My family expects so much from me because I made it. And you…you’ve never asked me for anything.”
The way he says it gives no room for argument. As if it’s a fact that is irrefutable. “There is no me without you. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, made you feel invisible. You are all that I see, every morning. Every night.”
You clench his hand then, “I just want you here. I want you to hold me again. I want to kiss you, hold you. I want to make love to you because I love you. I can’t do any of that if you aren’t here.”
He latches into every syllable out of your mouth. And by the time your finished, he’s directly next to you, breath fanning your face.
“I can do that,” he says, more than enthused about the idea. And that’s how this chapter of your marriage closes.
Waking up the next day is full of surprises. Eren is there when you wake up. You know because you’re awoken by a tongue lapping you up in a place that’s been abandoned.
You’re mouth parts on a silent scream and your body is so in tune with his that it doesn’t take long before you fall apart again, and again.
By the time he’s inside of you, you’re exhausted, but your body clenches all the same. As if it’s terrified that if it lets him go that it won’t ever feel this again. And he talks you through it.
Every orgasm is accompanied by an, “I love you, mama.” or a “Missed this so much.”
By the time he finishes, there’s not a doubt in your mind about it. Yes, marriage is a mountain but the zenith never looked so close.
Based on this ask: https://www.tumblr.com/i-mean-y-not/801670320112238592/please-please-please-write-some-eren-angst-where
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