Why We Ended Things

M for Maxine

Your latest hideout was the couch that lived in the very depths of the backroom. The cold and forgotten corner had turned out to be your best bet at finding any peace a quiet. Most likely because no one even knew it existed.

The couch was tucked away, back behind the folding screens for those quick costume changes. It was stained and sagged when you sat in it, like it had been there for decades — maybe even before the days of Wicked Sisters. Luckily for you, you weren't picky. All the years of love made it even more comfortable.

Anyone else would have ignored the nasty thing, and they'd probably be smart for it. But since you dumped Eren, you had found your breathers to be few and far between, now limited to only the times you were absolutely sure Eren was working the bar. It felt like you had joint custody over an alley.

Maybe there was a chance you were being dramatic about it. Deep down, it wouldn't be the end of the world if you had to talk to Eren at work — you know, since you were cordial now and all. But that wasn't to say it wouldn't be awkward as hell.

Working with Eren felt like you had stepped into a time machine. It was like you had reverted back to the early days of your relationship — back when it was merely co-workership. The days of Inside and Outside Eren.

This time around, things were different. Eren was different. At least, Inside Eren was. He hardly resembled the bartender you first met and thought, Hey, I think I'm gonna like this guy. He was cold and always kept his distance. He was no longer the exception to the stick-up-their-ass rule, either. While he wasn't avoiding you anymore, getting nothing more than a passing nod from him was somehow harder to stomach.

You hated the idea that he could hate you. To be fair, he had the right to — you were the one that broke up with him. But that still didn't make it any less sucky to think about.

But Eren didn't hate you, not in the slightest. And you only knew that because Outside Eren still existed. He wasn't necessarily alive and well — more like the kicked puppy that kept showing up at your doorstep on those extra lonely nights.

You tried not to take his indifference personally, even when it was hard. You loved Eren for a year and eightish months; that was long enough to know that this was how he protected himself. He didn't want others to see he was still struggling with the breakup, even though it was more than obvious.

You would never say that to his face, though. No one would.

Despite everything (yes, even the sleepovers), you were still too much of a coward to talk about the breakup with Eren. But he was, too. It was off the table, for both of your sakes.

You said it was to spare yourself from relieving the details, but maybe there was a chance that you weren't even sure what happened anymore. The more you thought about it, the more that three-hour-long breakup felt like a blur to you. The only takeaway that remained was that it still hurt.

Perhaps more closure could be nice. Or any closure, really, because whatever was going on now was just... odd.

Everything about it felt like an embarrassing memory from the past — something that haunted you from time to time that you just couldn't escape. It was the scab you kept picking off and the car wreck you just couldn't look away from. You just kept going back.

You laid back on the couch with a flop, pulling your phone out as a distraction. You thought to text Hitch, just to vent, but before you could make up your mind, footsteps drew near.

You forced your eyes down on the screen, thinking they would pass, just like they always did. But when they stopped only a few strides short of the couch, you finally peered up only to find Erwin, looking even taller from this angle.