4. How their garden came to be
When they make it back home from the market, he watches as Mikasa counts the few coins in her palm, her brow creasing in the slightest furrow. With some worry, he asks her if that’s all the money they have left and she only nods, depositing them in the coin pouch Kiyomi gave her back in Marley. After securing the lace fastenings and tucking the pouch into a cupboard, she turns back towards him and helps put away the items they bought.
“We should hunt more,” he suggests after a stretch of silence, “maybe we can sell whatever we catch to the locals in exchange for money.”
She hums and leans against their table, her fingers outlining the woven braids of a basket holding vegetables. “We should also try to save some of that money too, however we can, in case of anything.” He joins her at the table, pulling one of the seats close to where she stands. Her attention fixates on the frayed fibers of the basket but he can tell she’s still thinking about what to do. The more lost in thought she gets, the more concerned she looks. Tentatively, he covers the back of her fidgeting hand with his own. Her eyes follow his as he stands in front of her and moves to hold her hand to his chest. “We’ll figure it out, it’ll be okay.”
The worry in her expression melts into something more tender and she nods, stretching her fingers to feel more of his chest and brush over his collarbone. Her touch is so warm, communicating her thoughts and affections when her voice couldn’t and he wonders if she has any clue how many times it has saved him over the years. He feels his eyes begin to sting at the thought and, unwilling to become emotional and worry her even more, he shifts his focus to the slight upturn of her lips. Her smile feels so sweet against his own lips, even it lasts for the briefest of seconds, but she doesn’t let him go too far. Within minutes, he is hoisting her onto the table, using his fingers to loosen her scarf around her neck to make room for his mouth, all while her own fingers slide over his neck and undercut to gain purchase within the longer strands. In an attempt to stay propped up and maintain balance, she moves a hand behind her, the swiftness of it knocking the basket over. Sweet peppers and carrots roll and scatter the tabletop, enough of them falling and thudding against the floor to make both of them pause.
Mikasa picks up one of the peppers, eyeing it until she realizes something. “That’s it…” she whispers. A little discontented at her distraction, he tries to regain her attention by trailing kisses along her jaw. It doesn’t work though, because she begins patting at his shoulder and saying his name eagerly. He nearly pulls away with a frown but doesn’t dare complain when he’s met with the sight of her. Mikasa’s eyes and face are alight with a sudden idea, blindsiding him.
“We could grow our own vegetables and save some money that way,” she says, holding the sweet pepper between their faces before lowering it to her lap. “I used to garden with my mother, she taught me many things about growing vegetables.” Mikasa looks at the pepper, nostalgic, and it was clear how much it meant for her to carry on her mother’s teachings, to remember her this way. It was so rare to see her like this, and he’s left in awe with how something as simple as this could have his heart threatening to burst. He leans in to press a long kiss to her cheek.
“That’s a great idea,” he murmurs against her skin. “I’ll fence off an area outside and we can have a garden as big as you want.” Her smile grows and it feels like the most rewarding thing.
“I could teach you what my mother taught me. We could take care of it together.” He nods, satisfied as she cups his face and kisses his lips this time, settling their agreement.
It’s a lot of work, but in time they find themselves crouching before a few small holes in the soil. Mikasa carefully explains to him what she knows, everything from the method she uses to the seeds themselves. When they finish planting seeds from the few vegetables they have, Eren expects her to feel relief, or really anything besides the concern she has as she stares at the soil thoughtfully. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, wordlessly offering comfort in hopes of helping. Mikasa turns into him a bit, leaning her head against his jaw and sighing. “Eren… what if nothing grows?”
“It will,” he tells her confidently. “For now, let's just keep taking care of them, one day at a time.” She still seems unsure, so he lets out a long breath through his nose, deciding to give Mikasa the gift he got her.
“Hey, I have something for you.” Mikasa looks away from her garden and up at him curiously. “Close your eyes for me?”
She does so without asking any questions, a hint of a smile on her lips and it makes him more excited to show her. He quickly retrieves the item where he had hidden it inside their cabin, amazed and thankful that she didn’t discover it before he could properly give it to her. Mikasa turns her head in his direction as he walks back to her, and she holds out her hands when he tells her so. He fixes his gift in his hands before placing it in her own, a little nervousness mixing in with his excitement to see her reaction. She slowly opens her eyes, and then they widen. She lifts the straw hat closer to her face to look at the detail of each weave, gently trailing the tips of her fingers along the satin band of ribbon and bow that adorns the hat.
“Eren…” she whispers, looking up at him. “The money we had —”
“Is still there in the cupboard,” he assures.
He rubs the back of his neck. It took trading more than half of the animals he struggled to hunt a couple of days ago and some negotiating, but he managed to earn enough to buy the hat. He knew that she’d scold him for making such a purchase, but after their discussion about growing their own garden, he thought she could use something to help with the sun. Sure, it was a bit showy, but he knew it was something that should belong to her the moment he saw it in the marketplace, and he was convinced of it now more than ever as he took it from her hands and placed it on her head himself.
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally replies, adoring how she looked with the floppy style of the hat. “It looks.... you look nice.”
He averts his eyes, embarrassed at how awkwardly his compliment came out. What he doesn’t expect is the swiftness or force of her embrace, her arms curling around his waist tightly. His surprise wears off as soon as it came, and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, cupping the back of her head over the hat to ensure it doesn’t fall off.
Fear is the first thing that grips him when she repeatedly calls for him, but when she smiles upon finding him, that feeling is quickly replaced with confusion. The brim of her hat bounces and flops as she drags him over to the garden, and then she’s tugging him to crouch down in front of the soggy dirt.
“Look,” she says, a little breathless, her pointer finger guiding his eyes to a few tiny plants sprouting. “You were right, they did grow. I was worried they were weeds at first, but I looked closer at the leaves and… why are you looking at me like that?”
His smile broadens when he’s caught staring at her, and he only shakes his head. It’s the happiest he’s heard her in what feels like years. He reaches to carefully push back her sun hat and takes her face in his hands, thumbing away the trace of dirt smudged on her skin before leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead.