Our Memories

| Valentine's Day. | (18+)

(Trigger warning!)

January 26th, 2024.

It's been a while since Levi stood in front of a grave. Well, he's never stood in front of a grave that held two bodies buried together in one. Just that fact was interesting to him as he admired the beautiful tombstone Eren was kneeling right in front of. The brunet had placed two flowers, one is a white rose and the other is a white alstroemeria. Both of which were for his parents, Grisha and Carla Yeager, who are the two bodies buried together right beneath them.

Eren was rightfully emotional, his hand caressing the healthy grass below him as his eyes were closed. He was in thought, cherishing these moments with his parents despite them not being physically here with him. No matter the amount of years he's lived without them, every memory would make their deaths feel like it just happened yesterday. It's been a few years, but the wound is still fresh.

"My father was too much of a good man," He randomly spoke up, catching Levi's attention. This made the man kneel as well, his blue-gray orbs landing upon the pained face of his husband. A pale, slender hand made its way onto Eren's back, giving him small caresses.
"He sacrificed himself for a little girl who was in an urgent situation years ago. He gave his life to save her. The damage... it was beyond fixable...to the point we couldn't even have an open casket to see him one last time."

More tears welled up in his beautiful eyes, eventually running down his face as a small cry left his lips. Levi didn't say anything but pull him into a tight hug while his fingers gingerly massaged Eren's scalp. The brunet held onto Levi like a lifeline. The news that his father was dead hit his ears over and over again, even if it happened when he was only 16 years old. He couldn't believe it's been 6 years since he lost his father. A once strong, intelligent, and kind doctor who put his family and patients over himself was once on earth, doing good deeds for many and providing for his family. He was the same man who taught Eren so much.

"I don't care how he looked...I just wish I could've seen him one last time."

One glance at the white rose placed against the tombstone, and his mother's face flashed before his very eyes. With her, it has been 5 years. Carla Yeager, one hell of a strong woman who was a stay at home mother. She taught him more than what his father did, although it wasn't usually health related. From cooking and baking to cleaning and several household chores to finances and working. His mother was the reason why he pursued his passions growing up.

Carla's death...Eren was only 17, and he witnessed it happen. Unlike his father's, he nor his mother were there to see it, fortunately. Even if he wanted to see his father one more time, he's glad he didn't watch as his father got his head blown open. All for a little girl...who was going to be in his place if it weren't for him. He remembers the aftermath, though. After his father's death, his mother wasn't the same. He didn't know it then, but she had grown depressed. Always distant, always alone, while he tried to patch up the pain by going out with friends. Eren didn't realize that the entire time, he should've been with his mother. Maybe, just maybe, if he had paid more attention, she wouldn't have killed herself.

Eren remembers the day, the time, and the way she did it. January 26th, 2020. 7:21 PM, Sunday. He had taken off his shoes, placed them on the shoe rack at the entrance of the house before walking further into his home. It was quiet...too quiet. There was nothing on other than the hallway light. He was walking down, a hand pushing back his shorter hair at the time as he made it to his bedroom door. Eren opened it, turned on the light, and put his bag on his chair with a small sigh. He did a little stretch before turning around and walking out of his room, his gaze falling upon his mother's closed bedroom door. He then gave it a gentle knock.

No response.

He gave two more harder knocks, thinking she didn't hear the first one.

No response.