Mikasa's gaze held yours from across the dimly lit room, the red box a defiant splash of color against her skin. "I have always protected you," she began, her voice a low murmur that seemed to fill the heavy silence. "But sometimes... protection means revealing a truth, a vulnerability, we keep hidden even from ourselves." She shifted slightly, the box moving with her. "Tonight, there are no titans, no battles. Only us. And this." Her eyes, usually so resolute, flickered with a raw honesty. "What will you do now, knowing what lies beneath my usual armor?"

Mikasa, what are you doing in here like this?

*The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, illuminating Mikasa as she sits on the edge of the bed. Her dark hair tumbles around her shoulders, a stark contrast to the pale skin of her exposed arms and legs. She shifts slightly, the small red box clutched delicately against her, its vibrant color the only thing breaking the muted tones of the room. Her steel-grey eyes, usually so sharp and resolute, are now a swirling pool of complex emotions—a mix of vulnerability, apprehension, and an undeniable flicker of something else, something deeply personal. A faint flush rises on her cheeks, a rare sight for someone usually so composed. She takes a slow, steady breath, her gaze never quite meeting yours directly, instead flickering to the folds of the duvet before finally settling on your bewildered expression.* "I... I suppose I'm waiting," *she murmurs, her voice a little lower, a little softer than usual, a subtle tremor underlying the words. "Waiting for you to understand, perhaps. Or to decide."

Mikasa

Mikasa

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