PB’s Domain

On some occasions when you came to refill their teapots, Eren Jaeger would be perched in the middle of a smaller group of Jaegerists. Your head would turn, then. It was a pull, magnetic and hypnotizing, to try and catch a glance of the fabled Eren Jaeger. He was always so distant. So observant.

It was a disgusting feeling, really. The way the Jaegerists’ eyes followed you as you carefully, silently exchanged their old teapot with a clean one from the building’s kitchen, filled with freshly brewed elderflower and honey tea.

Eren had the most dreadful stare of them all.

He was here this time.

The room quieted instantly when you stepped in. It typically did, but today was even more so than usual. You kept your gaze to the floor as you walked. If anyone questioned why, which they never did, you’d explain that it simply helped your navigation to the coffee table. You didn’t want to trip on anything. You honestly didn’t see a reason to look up at anyone, almost as if looking up and meeting their eyes would make your presence more real. With your head down, you could be ignored. Forgotten about and quiet. They were not a demanding bunch, though. They allowed you to go about your business, as was your duty, for whatever they knew.

But today, he was here. Eren was here today. He was accompanied by that tall woman, who stood beside where he sat. Perhaps, she didn’t feel worthy to even sit in his presence despite the available chairs, opting to stand on guard next to him, imposing and a threat. You knew it would be difficult for you to keep your head down today, already feeling the magnetic pull tugging on your ear and enticing you to look over at him.

Anyone who’s seen you exchange their teapot knew that you always took the same path: step in front of the militant by the door, three steps forward to make it to the coffee table, turn to squeeze beside the seats, following the same path back. You never varied, but then again, they were never in your way. They anticipated your arrival it seemed. Twelve o’clock in the afternoon on the dot, every day. Their meetings would sometimes take an hour to three hours, so you may come back sometimes. Twelve o’clock was always consistent, though.

Your palms were clammy, and you hoped to whatever God there was that you didn’t drop the tea tray in front of all of them. Your concentration isn’t so easily deterred but knowing that all of their eyes were on you heightened any insecurity you had. Setting the tray down on the coffee table, your eye catches Eren’s by accident. Your gaze flickers away, pretending you didn’t mean to look at him. Inches away from Eren, you could nearly smell the fervor reeking from him. As you pick up the empty teapot, ready to exchange it for a fresh one, a hand stops you, and you must root your feet to keep yourself from jolting.

You looked to the man the hand is attached to – Floch Forster. An odd opossum of a man, you’ve gathered just by subtle eavesdropping on various conversations between soldiers.

“We’re actually about to wrap up here.”

It takes a moment for his words to click, and you stare up at the redhead dumbly. They’ve never refused your tea before.

“Yes, sir.”

You pick the tray back up. Accidentally – more out of curiosity­ – you glance at Eren once more before you turn around. Still, he was staring right back at you without a word.

To think that he is the one that held the all-encompassing Founding Titan…

You turn to leave the room – squeezing between the seats, three steps, in front of the militant, out the door. You couldn’t tell if Eren was glaring or if that was just his face. Warmth spread throughout your belly and into the lowest parts of your spine.

Eren hadn’t said a word at all, nor had he lifted a finger, yet he corralled the entire room like a messiah. What had they been discussing before you walked in the room? In all the months of you brewing tea for them and exchanging their teapots, this was the first time any of them even had spoken a word to you. You didn’t know where Eren’s loyalties lie, or whether he truly would bring glory to Eldia.

“I know you from somewhere.”

It was the same day. You were washing dishes in the kitchen of the Jaegerist base. You jumped at the voice, finding Eren standing by the door with his hands in the pockets of his cardigan. Your hands sprung out from the sink, lathered with soap, but your resolve prevented you from grabbing the nearest pan and using it as a weapon. Staring back at him with blown out eyes, you’re not sure you even heard him.

“What?”

“I said, I know you from somewhere,” He repeated plainly. He still had that same scowl he had adorned earlier. Or is he not scowling? He didn’t seem angry. As you gathered yourself, you realized he’s alone. He never traveled alone, even within the base’s walls. Jaegerists insisted on keeping close to him, likely for protection, especially that tall woman, and they only really gave him privacy in his quarters. Or so you’ve noticed. You did your best to mind your business and keep your head low as long as they enjoyed the tea you supplied. To be suddenly confronted by the foundation the Jaegerists centered around wasn’t exactly the thanks you expected.

“Why are you alone?” You blurt, rather obtuse and dismissive of his claims. He wasn’t fazed, still fixated on his own revelation.

“Where do I know you from?” He deflected. You were starting to panic, as if you were in trouble. His voice had a damning quality to it.

“I–I don’t know?” You couldn’t come up with any better response, as you held out your soapy hands out in front of you. You had limited knowledge of Titan shifters and their abilities, but you knew of the horror story that was Eren’s reputation. What he did in Marley. He sucked his teeth, inhaled, then sighed, appearing to be in thought. His eyes refused to leave you. You both stared at each other, and you had half the mind to dismiss yourself if that’s all he came here to say.

“You were at the medal ceremony?” He suddenly mentioned.

You blinked, remembering when the survey corps were given medals of honor by Queen Historia. The tea you brewed – your lifeline – was highly regarded enough to be requested by the Royal Government to be served at the ceremony. An honor for any homegrown business, really. But you were no more than a cupbearer, so you remind yourself to stay humble.

“I was.”

“The tea girl.” Eren was curt.

You nodded, commending your own patience. “Yes, I was one of them. My name is (Y/n).”

Silence. Your hands wrung themselves by your hips as an attempt to ease your nerves. Eren noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

“Did you… need something, Mr. Jaeger?” You swallowed spit that was gathering in your mouth. “It’s getting rather late. Do you need something to help you sleep?” It was a measly attempt at conversation, but also a begone. Eren must’ve noticed how odd his presence here in the kitchen was because he finally yanks his gaze away. You never thought you’d see such a powerful symbol express such insecurity.

“No…” The floor gave him no answers. Not the one he was looking for, anyway. You were patient, though. You waited.

Whatever trace of vulnerability you saw, it was gone the next second. The Eren Jaeger you’re accustomed to, the one portrayed to you in the stories, returned with a steel visage.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to see that it was you.” It was a mysterious way of announcing his perception of you, but he turned away from you all the same and headed back the way he came. You stared at his retreating back oddly, wondering what kind of interaction just took place.

You continued to exchange teapots and pour tea, acting as a cupbearer for the Jaegerists. You were quiet, and eventually, none of them cared to notice you anymore. Your presence was a routine part of the meetings. Expected.

This was your duty. As you poured a fresh cup of hot tea into a gentleman’s cup, you couldn’t help but notice the room was always filled with men. Were there no women allowed in this room? Typically, you felt yourself drifting off, feeling so complacent in your obligations that you couldn’t help but ignore everything else going on besides the task at hand; however, today, you felt particularly nosy.

Today, you actually paid attention to the figures in the room. To their faces. To their presence. To what they brought to the table. To their relationship to Eren Jaeger.

They hovered around him. It made him look like a god, or something akin to one. You noticed that they spoke to him, but he didn’t speak back. They listed off completed orders, steps taken, warnings made, but Eren would only provide a nod to each. He didn’t even have to threaten anyone to work for him; he had them all under his thumb, driven by his cause.

What was his cause, exactly? You failed to understand this, despite how much time you spent in this government-building-turned-bunker.

Eren glanced at you staring at him, and a chill ran up your spine. You were certain of one thing, and it was that God never looked at you like that.

He was polite. Or maybe he was just quiet. It was easy to confuse the two.

Regardless, you smiled respectfully.

“Is the jasmine tea to your liking, Mr. Jaeger?”

You tried to read his expression, but it gave no hints to his actual emotion. He gently placed the teacup back down on the tray.

“The aroma’s too strong. Let me try the elderflower one.”

Your body moved with grace, carefully picking up the unfinished jasmine tea on its tray. You brought it to the counter, where you replaced it with a clean cup. Delicately, with purpose, you poured the elderflower tea into the empty teacup, watching as the honey-gold liquid filled halfway to the brim. Silently, you brought the tray back to Eren, setting it down in front of him.

He tasted this one. He was familiar with it; you brought it to the Jaegerist meeting the other week. Still, you waited.

“This one’s good.”

You nodded, your fingers curling around each other hidden underneath your apron.

“Mr. Jaeger, if I may ask…,” you started. “What’s gotten you invested in tea tasting?” You have been here for about an hour and a half with Eren, pouring and emptying various teas, watching him taste them, and request another.

Eren glanced sidelong at you as he held his teacup. “Am I not allowed to appreciate some tea in the peace of good company?”

Your heart jumped, but you didn’t flinch. You heard that Eren could sniff out a weakness quicker than you can even acknowledge it in yourself. You respectfully held his stare. “You’re allowed to do whatever you like, sir.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You shut your mouth and nodded.

Eren shifted in his wooden chair, placing his cup of tea down on its tray. He faced you with an inscrutable stare.

“If I may ask…,” he had a swift ability to make you feel vulnerable. “What do you make of all of this?”

You blinked. “What?”

He didn’t repeat himself; just stared, waiting for an answer. You shifted under his gaze.

“Mr. Jaeger, I’m not following…”

Eren pulled out the other chair from the table and gestured vaguely at it. “Sit.”

Again, you hesitated. You opened your mouth to reply, but he spoke first.

“It’d be considered insubordination if you refuse.”

As if a puppet on strings, you sat in the wooden chair.

He watched you carefully. Again, he posed his question to you. “What do you make of all of this? Of Paradis, of Marley?”

Your face did not betray any of your emotions. You knew he was trying to figure out if you were a spy. You held his gaze. Respectfully, of course. Always respectfully.

“What specifically are you referring to? The war?”

“Yes.” Eren had a way of being blunt.

“I think it’s sad.”

“Sad?” Eren sounded slightly surprised, but you couldn’t tell with his poker face.

You were both suspicious of each other, sitting across from one another. You didn’t know Eren’s true intentions, and he did not know yours.

“Yes, sad. People are getting killed on both sides. Have gotten killed. It’s objectively sad.”

“What about subjectively?”

Your eyebrow twitched just a bit. You hoped he didn’t notice. Eren Jaeger could interrogate a person and get the answer he wanted to hear without even trying. Fine. You’ll play.

Your eyes narrowed a little. “Subjectively…” He cut you off.

“If a man killed someone because of the circumstances an institutional power put him in, does that still make that man a murderer?”

“Yes. Objectively speaking. If you kill, you’re a murderer.”

Eren nodded. “Okay. Let’s say the person that man killed was my child.”

You stared at him.

“Now, if I kill that man, out of anger or desperation or to avenge my child, am I the same as him?” Eren looked blank and expectant. Patronizing, almost.

“Is this still about the war?”

Eren shook his head. “No. Just casual conversation with a friend.” Sometimes, his words were so sneaky.

“I don’t think we’re the same, Mr. Jaeger. Us and Marley.”

Eren stared at you. Whatever he was thinking, you couldn’t tell one way or another. “And why is that?”

You felt as if you had to watch your words carefully here. Swallowing spit that filled your mouth, you replied, “I-I don’t know too many details of the war, but–“

“You just said that if a person kills, they’re a murderer. Objectively speaking,” he cut you off. “Do you know how many people I’ve killed?”

You blinked. “I didn’t mean to offend, Mr. Jaeg–“

“You didn’t offend me,” he almost sounded a little defensive, childish even, and for a moment, you saw that exterior he holds up so well crack just a bit. “And stop calling me that. It’s Eren.”

You nodded hesitantly. “Eren.”

His stare was difficult to hold, but you somehow managed to despite feeling the overwhelming pressure of a prey animal telling you to turn away. You would hate to be on the opposing side of whatever he has planned.

You learned quickly that he spoke of death quite a bit. Killing, to be specific. Who he’s killed and who he wished he killed, but he never mentioned who he plans on killing. It, of course, made you uneasy. You filled your role as cupbearer as perfectly as you could, and you tried to hide the fear mixed with admiration for him whenever you refilled his teacup during the Jaegerist meetings.

He began visiting you privately more frequently. You weren’t staying in the base; you lived in a small refugee camp just southeast. You honestly hadn’t had a home to call your own in years. When you arrive at the Jaegerist base for your work, you were always searched by the guards. They were thorough, and you never resisted. You had nothing to hide.

One evening, Eren visited you after a meeting. You were about to leave for the night, packing up the tea set used today. He stepped back into the room and quietly shut the door behind him, eyeing you as he did so.

You heard the door shut and quickly turned to see who it was. You weren’t exactly relieved to see him, but you bit your tongue and continued cleaning off the table. Eren made his way over to sit by you – a different chair than he normally would have sat in. You glanced at him warily. Even though you’ve become much more familiar with him, he was still an uneasy presence to behold.

“Good evening,” you were formal and turned away from him, carefully placing the tea set on its appropriate tray.

“Evening,” Eren replied casually. “I heard you were still on site. Wanted to stop by before you left.”

Your lower stomach warmed, but you swallowed and hid it well. Standing straight, you finally faced him. You nodded.

“I was just getting the remaining dishes.”

Eren nodded in acknowledgement. He honestly didn’t care what you were doing, but you would never be able to tell that.

He had his hair down today, and it framed his face handsomely. You averted your gaze, feeling it becoming too intimate.

Eren stood up, then. “Can I ask you something in confidence?”

You looked back up at him, suddenly feeling the weight of his question. “Sure,” you peeped.

Eren didn’t blink as he held your gaze; his eyes flickered briefly down to your lips, making you a little self-conscious as you licked them.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He almost whispered. You froze.

“What?”

He didn’t repeat himself. He knew you heard him correctly. He stared at you with that same serious, unreadable expression. You shifted your weight, obviously a little shocked by his question.

“I have,” you answered. There was no need to lie to him.

Something in his face shifted, as if he felt a moment of clarity and curiosity combined. It was boyish almost and unlike the man he had been portraying himself to be in front of this grand Eldian movement. You felt the need to continue the conversation, almost in a casual way.

“Have you?” You asked him, turning to hide your own embarrassment as you adjusted the teacups on the tray to ensure they did not fall over.

“No.”

You nodded, lifting the tray and turning back to face him. It was rare that you saw him look so awkward. You decided to take a chance, and you knew that either this would herald either your demise or give you a small semblance of intimacy in a time where it appeared none existed.

“I can teach you,” you muttered, eyeing him.

Eren’s resolve didn’t crack, but you saw his mouth open slightly, as if he was about to speak. Both of you were quiet, staring at one another, allowing the invitation to sit in the air.

Eren stepped forward suddenly and smashed his face into yours. It was sloppy and caused you to haphazardly place the tray of teacups back down on the table. Your brows furrowed as you tried to kiss him back, but Eren was as overzealous as he was in battle. Your noses hit one another, and Eren had already opened his mouth to try to deepen the kiss. You put your hands on his chest and lightly pushed him back.

You pulled away just enough to mutter, “Wait, stop.” Eren immediately pulled away, looking down at you breathless.

“Like this,” you put your hand gently behind his head, feeling the softness of his long hair for the first time, and carefully guided him down to you. Your lips met again, softer this time. He was a quick learner, and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. He moved with you, matching your pace and trying hard not to exceed it. You kissed him again, pulling him down closer to you. His hands cautiously found their way to your midsection.

“Take your time,” you breathed.

Eren felt dizzy. He felt his hands shaking as he touched you. He had a tendency to overcrowd, and you were being pushed back onto the table, the teacups long forgotten about as they slid across the tray. You bit Eren’s lip, and he groaned, opening his mouth. You licked the inside of his teeth, and as he crowded you on the table, you could feel just how excited he was.

You purposefully were slow in your kisses, caressing his hair. Eren’s hips instinctively grinded against yours. You gasped against his lips, and he continued kissing you; it felt primal, like he had been dying to experience this kind of intimacy for years.

Eren’s reputation, what he did in Marley, what he planned to do in the future, it didn’t matter at that moment. What mattered was that he was kissing you like he was drowning and you were his air. His hands were resting on the table, caging you in. You didn’t expect him of all people to exhibit such hesitancy.

Kissing him back with more fervor, you gently guided one of his hands up to touch your breast. To your surprise, he recoiled, yanking his hand away from you. He pulled away, breathless, staring at you wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from your hands being in it. You allowed him to pull back, meeting his gaze with your own bewildered one as you panted.

There was a knock on the door, and quickly, you and Eren separated completely. You turned, reaching to pick up the tray of teacups. The door cracked open.

Yelena.

“Eren,” she started, before she observed the scene before her. It was obvious what had been going on, and despite Eren’s extra effort to present as controlled as he typically did, his disheveled appearance gave him away. You cleared your throat, quickly turning to scurry out of the room with the tray of empty teacups, past Yelena. She let you pass, briefly looking you over before turning her attention back to Eren. She didn’t comment on what she had walked in on or if she saw anything.

You were borderline hysterical, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choked on your sobs. “I don’t want us to end this way, though. We have something beautiful, and I feel like it’s just being thrown away.”

He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. He looked away from you for a moment; you didn’t like it.

“Therapy would be good for us,” you etched gently. Eren shook his head.

“I can’t… I can’t go to therapy with the knowledge that I can’t fully commit to us.”

You felt your heart sink into your gut like a hot ball of coal. You knew this game. It was the same thing again, just with a different face. The discard, the abandonment… The fear was making itself known once again, almost like it never left. Despite Eren sitting right next to you on the couch, you felt miles apart. You didn’t want to touch him, as an ever-present worry that it would be the last time you ever did crept into the back of your mind. You stared back at him, as you tried to replay in your mind the signs that the relationship was coming to an end. When did it all start? Yesterday, when you told him you didn’t want fish for dinner? A week ago, when you wrote out a hand-written love letter to him for Valentine’s Day? Had he already made up his mind at that moment that he wanted to end things? A month ago? When? When was it? Within the span of seconds, you were desperately searching for the sign that things were going south.

Eren stared at you, and you tried to remember what he looked like when he last said he loved you and meant it. You realize then that the distance between you two must have appeared weeks ago. How long had you been the only one striving for the success of the relationship? The only one trying?

Within seconds, you found it: when he started pulling away. It was weeks ago, when you found another woman’s belongings in his home. You asked him about it, and he said it was his ex’ stuff. He was nonchalant, acting as if this discovery didn’t just disrupt your entire nervous system and the comfort you thought you had with him. You asked him to dispose of it, and you hoped that’d be the end of it – until a couple of days later when you came across more items that obviously belonged to a woman, and that woman was not you.

He disposed of it, and he repeated the same line: ‘It’s just stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.’

You believed him, but you couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts and the insecurities that arose. Your cycle of needing reassurance was exhausting him, and you didn’t realize it. Every time you asked him to confirm that you were the only woman in his life, it pushed him further from you. But how could you have known?

You cried, and it was all you could do as you tried to speak, beg, say anything to make him change his mind. You two had your issues, you knew that. You knew that.

“You need to change. I can’t be with someone who–,” his words stung so deeply that you didn’t even hear the rest of what he was saying. It seemed like you weren’t even paying attention to him anymore. Being told you needed to change by the person you loved the most was unbearable, and it confirmed every single fear you had about yourself. Eren would always tell you how you were “too much” or that you needed to change. That you were stretching him thin. Why couldn’t he just love you as you were? You loved everything about him. Everything. Why did you have to change to deserve love?

Eren continued. “I can’t commit to trying. I just can’t. I need stability in my life, and I’m feeling like I won’t be able to have that with you,” he looked at you, gauging your reaction. It stung; everything hurts. He was making you feel as though you were as unstable as you always feared. But why? Your mind flickered through every single interaction you had with him, like you were reflecting on highlights from a movie. You thought you did everything right. You tried so hard to accommodate to his needs, to make yourself “less” for him, and still, he was sitting here telling you that you are too much and not enough at the same time. What could you even do? Everything felt hopeless.

Throughout the relationship, every time things felt difficult with Eren, every time he insisted on controlling the narrative, on not compromising, on minimizing your needs or making you feel bad about yourself, you accepted him. You accepted all of him.

You shifted on the couch, turning to face him more fully. Desperate, you spoke through your tears. “Eren, please, I feel like we didn’t even try. We already have a session scheduled for us on Monday, plea–,” he interrupted again.

“I did try. I tried as hard as I could, but you’re just a lot.”

You stared at him, feeling your gut twist into something ugly, something that threatened to spill onto the floor. Eren continued on.

“I… also just need space to grow. I’ve been jumping from relationship to relationship since I was a teenager. I think I need to learn how to be single…”

You shook your head, not wanting to believe what he was saying. “We can grow together. I love you so much, we’re building something so beautiful together, and I’m sorry for always needing reassurance. I’ll stop, okay?” Eren wasn’t swayed, and he still looked at you with that same faraway stare that you learned to hate. How could anyone look at someone they loved like that?

Eren broke up with you that day, and your entire life was flipped upside down. He didn’t promise one way or another that you two would try again. He remained vague, stating that if it felt right for you two to try again, then it would happen.  Throughout your relationship with Eren, he tended to isolate you from your support system, so you only ever really relied on him. With him gone, you had no one to speak to – no one that would understand the pain you were experiencing. Your friends were all married. They couldn’t relate to the woes of dating and heartbreak.

You slept for days. You couldn’t eat. The future you imagined with Eren – a farmhouse with goats and chickens – no longer existed. You sacrificed so much in order to build a life with him, and now it’s all gone.

Every couple of days, you texted him. He would text back, but he’d take his time. You both updated each other on your days, but the space between you two was quickly growing. You no longer kept track of his lunch breaks. He posted on his Instagram story pictures of him going out with friends. You felt stupid for continuing to maintain the hope that things would work out, but it was all you could cling to. The small statement Eren made about potentially trying again kept you latched onto that hope with every tooth and nail you had. Everything else besides Eren felt desolate, but you focused on your own healing and growth with the hope that he would return. See? I’m not too much! I’m all healed! We can try again now!

You continued therapy. You eventually forced yourself to hang out with your friends. You got out the house. You tried meeting new people. Everything was difficult, and every interaction felt as though you were forcing your body to walk through waist-deep swamp water.

What you didn’t realize is that you will be “healing” for the rest of your life. There will never be a time when your insecurities are completely cured. You also didn’t realize at this point that you should never want to be with a person who says you’re too much.

Just about two months after the breakup, you check Eren’s social media. Your chest thumped as you discovered your worst fear: he was already dating a new girl.

Your mind spiraled. What happened to wanting to be single? Had that been a lie? Where did this girl come from? Why does she get to have the future that I wanted with Eren? Why weren’t you enough?