⟢ Not always the best at communicating 0.8k
Eren doesn't know that he has lost you until he sees you laughing without him, hanging out without him, and even stopped replying to his third time texting you, from his bed. You were never bound by labels, just a messy, wordless gravity that pulled you together in the dark. But the feelings were real enough to burn.
( 1:32 AM EREN: you down to smoke with me later? )
( 1:46 AM EREN: Lmfao. )
The only thing he has to remind himself is a slightly blurry naked woman wrapping her long slender arms around his torso as he sits upright in his bed. Mikasa’s touch should have been a tether, something to pull him back from the edge of his own spiraling thoughts, but her warmth felt like a faded motion against his skin. He stared at the glowing screen of his phone that read “DELIVERED”, the blue light harsh against the dark scenery that surrounded him, waiting for a notification bubble that he knew wouldn't come, eventually he calmed himself down to lay in the bed with the “stranger” in his bed knowing full consciously that this was his fault, every time he shifted, the dark blue sheets you had bought him rustled with a sound that seemed too loud.
The vibration of your phone on the nightstand didn't elicit the frantic heart-skip it used to. A week ago, a 1 am text from eren would have been the highlight of your week, you'd answer before the sound even went off. But now, as the light flicked for what felt like forever, you didn't even bother to unlock it. By 1:46 AM, when the follow up text lit up the room with that stupid phrase he used, “lmfao” god you hated it so much, finally sitting up you went to see what he wanted even if you knew it would be a “you down to smoke” text he had sent over 4 time in the past 3 days when you finally stopped answering him. The glow from the phone screen eventually timed out, plunging the room back into the dark,
Eren stayed pinned to his mattress, his lungs feeling tight as if the air in the room had become too pungent to breathe in. beside him mikasa shifted in her sleep, her hand brushing his arm, it was a soft touch, a kind touch, the kind of touch any man should be grateful for. But to eren, it felt like static, it felt like a wave of discomfort and prayers. He remembered how you used to handle his 1 AM moods. You didn't just go over to smoke with him. You'd sit on the edge of the bed and peel back his layers without even trying. Making him feel seen in a way that absolutely terrified him. And in doing so he would return to Mikasa as a sort of anchor to his own reality, a safe harbor he could retreat to once you had finished tearing apart the parts of him he tried so hard to keep buried.
A year is a long time for a ghost to linger, but eventually, even the loudest haunting goes quiet. The late-night texts had withered away months ago, replaced by heavy mutual silence that was deafening for the both of you. He had stopped reaching out because he finally understood that space wasn't a punishment you were giving him. It was a requirement for your own good. He had also stopped seeing Mikasa, too; he couldn't look at her without feeling the guilt of trying to turn her into a replacement for a girl who had dismantled his entire soul.
The party was a suffocating crush of bodies, cheap cologne and I think a bottle of sparkly pink Whitney that some preppy girl had brought. You'd spent most of the night avoiding the balcony, knowing he was out there. You had caught a glimpse of him earlier leaning into the armin, sharing a joint, looking older and more hollowed out than you'd remember. His short brown hair now pushed back into a messy low bun that seemed to be a perfect fit for him, maybe even taller now and definitely more muscular then the last time.
Hours later, the air in the house was thick. You were on the makeshift dance floor, trapped in the orbit of a guy whose name you had already forgotten. He was too close, his hands sliding down to your waist with a predatory grip that made your skin crawl. You tried to laugh it off, tried to step back. Then, the pressure vanished.
A hand larger, calloused and familiar enough to make your heart lurched clamped down on the stranger's shoulder.
“She looks like she needs an air bud,” Eren's voice was low, vibrating with a jagged edge that hadn't smoothed out in a year. That part of him you loved. He didn't shove the guy he just stood there towering over him with a look that could kill literally.
Eren didn't look at you immediately he just stood there, a shield between you and the room. “You're shaking,” he noted, his voice barely a whisper over the music. He didn't touch you. He knew he didn't have that right anymore. “Come on. My room is quiet, I've got some of the good stuff, the kind you like just to take the edge off.”
His room felt like a time capsule. The dark blue sheets were gone, replaced by something very neutral and lifeless, but the air still tasted like him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed-the same spot where you used to dismantle him-and sparked a joint, handing it to you with fingers that trembled just a fraction.
“I'm sorry” he said, and the words sounded like they had been sitting on his throat for three hundred and sixty five days. “..About tonight, about …everything.”
The silence that followed wasn't the cold one from the year past, it was the old silence, the one that burned. He sat on the floor at your feet, leaning his head back against the mattress, looking up at you with eyes you that were a devastating mix of yearning and despair
“I tried to be okay,” he admitted, his voice breaking, "I tried to make mikasa the anchor, but I was just dragging her down into the mess you left behind. I stopped texting because I realized my voice was just nose in the peace you finally f-found…. But seeing you out there, seeing him touch you like that.” He let out a ragged breath, the smoke curling around his head like a halo of regret. “Im such a fucking mess y/n. I've been a mess since the second you walked out. I just wanted you to know that I finally got it. I finally know what it's like to be the one waiting for a notification that's never coming.”
He reached out, his hand hovering near your knee, before he pulled it back, the tension so sharp it felt like a physical weight in the room. He was finally giving you everything you ever wanted, his honesty, his vulnerability, his focus. Eren remained on the floor, his forehead resting against the edge of the mattress, his shoulders shaking with the kind of silent, jagged sobs that only come from a year of holding your breath.
“I just wanted to be enough without hurting you,” he choked out, his voice muffled by the fabric of the bed, “i thought if i didnt hold on so tight, i wouldn't break you, but I just ended up breaking everything else,”
The sight of him. This version of eren who had finally put down his armor and his “no labels” excuses. Melted the last of the ice around your heart. The anger that sustained you for a year suddenly felt like a heavy coat you didn't need to wear anymore. You reached down, your fingers trembling as you brushed the hair away from his forehead.
“Eren,” you whispered. “Look at me.”
When he lifted his head, his eyes were red-rimmed and brimming with a raw, desperate hope that made your chest ache. He looked like the boy he used to be before he tried so hard to be cold. Slowly he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as your cold palm cooled down his burning cheek. It wasn't the “wordless gravity” of a year ago; it was something softer,more grounded.
“I forgive you,” you exhaled softly, the words feeling like a soft light filling the room. “I'm not saying it's all fixed, but I'm not caring about the weight of being mad at you anymore.”
He let out a broken, watery laugh and pulled your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a reverence that felt like a heaven sent prayer. He moved from the floor to the bed sitting close enough that your knees touched, but he didn't try to reclaim you with force, he just stayed there, soaking in the comfortable quiet.
“I don't want anyone else to be an anchor for me,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of your wrist, quite a motion he found himself doing in his dorm late at night since you used to do it to him for comfort. “ I just want to be here. With you, if you'll have me”
The joint layed forgotten as he pulled you into a clumsy, desperate hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck, it wasn't a 1 am “you down to smoke?” It was a 3 am promise. You held him back, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heart finally beginning to sync with yours, the room no longer smelling like laundry detergent and regret but of a second chance that smelled an awful lot like home.
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a/n :)- hi guys thank you so much for all the love on my last erenxreader fic that was only meant to be a short story but i am thinking of turning it into a series since some of yall asked but show some love for daddy eren becasue i know i shore will sorry(not sorry) for the angst☺️
ALSO THANK YOU FOR @rrsltt for letting me use this idea hope it works good for you all!!!