The Red Scarf

Eren,
I remember mother's smile like I know the palm of my right hand. Not like my mother, that is, but I don't remember her more than I remember you. Your hazel-green eyes that exploded into a ray of emerald at sunrise. Your smile, made me want to embrace you in a warm hug forever and never let you go. I wish for that opportunity right now.

When I first looked into your eyes, I didn't know what to think. All I saw was a universe of hidden secrets dying to be shared with the world, with me. But instead, I received a scarf. A red, woolen scarf. At the time, I didn't care. I was 8, you were 9, and it smelled good. That was the year we met Armin.
I never really knew Armin that well. I didn't understand him. Not like I understood you. You told me your fears, your nightmares, and even the girls you were crushing on at school. I didn't love you then. Not like this. I remember meeting you for the first time, after my parents were murdered. I was scared, and you rescued me.

One blade and a broken 3DMG. A broken and useless 3DMG. I'm going to die, and the only thing on my mind is you. Before, it was you, Eren, who saved me. But you're not here anymore. You're dead. Gone. Not coming back. And it's all my fault. I guess I'm writing this letter as a salute to my life, and my way of thanking you, because I know you'll never read this. I guess my time here is up. I wouldn't ask for a better death, near our home in Shiganshina. See you in the next life, with wings.

Yours forever,
Mikasa