[ Maruki has never known anyone who gives boundless love away as freely and wholly as Eren does. The fact that he feels like he doesn't do it right is heartbreaking in its own way.

A small, rotten corner of his heart will cling to that forever: Aside from you, it all feels false. He doesn't know what Eren really means by that, and he certainly doesn't find any pleasure in hearing it – but it means something nevertheless.

He chases those tears with his thumbs, wiping away the wet trails they leave. He always knew Eren would manage to cry around him again, no matter how staunchly he put forth that he was a walking corpse and nothing more, but he never could have expected it like this. Happy, hopeful– lucky.

Lucky to be loved by him.

It makes Maruki's own throat constrict; no one is supposed to feel that way about him, and the only person who could make him believe it is the one who does.

He draws a deep breath that only shakes a little, steadies himself as he strokes Eren's cheeks. The only thing he can manage to say to such beautiful sentiments bubbles up, filled with nothing less than tender conviction: ]

You're my favorite person.

[ The tips of his fingers skate up and over Eren's cheekbones. ]

You really are. In this reality, and the next one, every one... I can promise that, Eren.

[ His smile is shy but wide, warm, nearly beatific. ]

So stay by my side. You're home.