COUP DE FOUNDRE ( noun.)

FRENCH, literally: lightning strike, it can be applied to falling in love at first sight, fast and violently

at last, hello, you've opened your eyes

but why won't you even look at me, what's wrong?

you angrily tell me I'm late

well, I'm sorry, but I ran the fastest I can

my heart got here before my body could even make it

- RADWIMPS - Zen Zen Zense

(he's just about to catch her when she falls, slips through his fingers in a heartbeat, in a fraction of a second in-between breath; painfully calm and painfully beautiful, even after she is no more. Always one before her time, just as he's always late to say things he should've said, late to see what he had stood in front of his very own eyes.

she's always chasing after him and he always remains out of her reach in his last minutes; she never gets to stand by his side and she never gets to say a proper goodbye, as he rushes towards his death like he rushes for everything else – carelessly and eagerly, head-on. Leaving her behind. )

….

Like everyone else, they meet by accident; pass each other on a crowded street, on Friday evening, with sky dark and cold chilling them to the bone. And at first, they don't even realize what has just happened, because books promised something different, parents warned them of something else. They both expected a violent phenomenon that would rip them into pieces; a lightning strike through her veins, thunderstorms inside his head, heavy rain in the moment when they would share the same air.

Instead, this brown haired boy passes her and Mikasa feels summer evening in early July; setting sun caressing her skin as she sits on the wooden porch of her grandparents' house, the smell of honeysuckle in the air, strawberry seeds between her teeth and crickets singing on the meadows.

Instead, this raven-haired girl passes him and Eren feels spring morning; waking up at sunrise with birds chirping cheerfully outside, old willow tree in his backyard sprouting fresh green leaves, the cold bite of the shower and a whole new, untainted day yet to be lived spread in front of him.

It's not painful. It does not hurt. But it hits nevertheless, all those feeling both alien and familiar. The pair of them makes a few more steps before stopping in their respective tracks; she shivers, he gasps.

It feels- it feels as if they suddenly have two beating fast hearts instead of one, two hearts trashing in one rib cage.

When they turn around to look at each other, they do it like people on the streets, when they feel a delicious smell of pastries from bakery's open door; with cheeks flushed and awe and amazement in their eyes wide open, with fresh snow making a strange squeaking sound underneath their boots.

And then they lock eyes; the girl with a long braid of dark hair meticulously pinned around her head and the boy with a red scarf wrapped carelessly around his neck. And every movie, every song, every romance movie turns out to be right, because as green meets gray, people around them stop half-movement, snowflakes halt frozen on their way to the ground, the time itself seems to have forgotten how to fly.

It's not easy, sharing a soul with someone – said their elders.- This pain of the first meeting of your destined is not the last one.

But Mikasa doesn't feel any pain as she's looking into those green, green eyes, oh dear god how, they are so green, she dreamed him, dreamed about him and his eyes, how could've she forgotten?

And all Eren can think of is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, each part of her so beautiful, each movement graceful, the simple surprised arch of her eyebrows exquisite; this diamond of a woman that he feels he already knows better than he knows himself.

It all comes back to them in a flow of emotions, of sensations; the dreams, the longing, this phantom presence they felt all their lives without realizing that.

In the middle of a snowstorm, two hands reach for each other simultaneously, fingers brushing –

And that's when the lightning strikes.

…

I missed you, I missed you, I missed you so bad

So that's what they meant by pain.- hazily thinks Mikasa, dazed, lost in the ocean of green. Sadness and happiness hit her like a tsunami wave, flooding her, pushing the air from her lungs. The ache of separation, of how could I live my life without you for all those years, for I cannot imagine not touching you now that I had – mixed up with the pure, unfiltered happiness as his entwines his fingers with hers. Mikasa gasps, basking in this warmth, overwhelmed with the feeling of contentment incomparable to anything she has ever felt. At the back of her mind, she wonders why she's not ashamed of her reactions; why she doesn't try to hide her amazement, be more composed. But why would she do that? The current of his emotions flows through her veins like a blood, she feels the buzzing underneath his skin. He's bolder than her, more curious; while she's content with standing still and looking at him, his fingers travel upwards, caressing her palm, her wrist, leaving a trail of blazing fire on her skin. It's not even warm anymore, she feels hot inside as if she was burning alive.

She wonders if she should worry about that.

Eren can't stop touching her. She has small, pale hands, nails meticulously manicured, silver ring on the little finger of her left hand. His fingers trail along the blue-greenish veins of her naked wrists; the tips of her fingers are red and somewhere, in the most down to earth part of his brain, he thinks they should both were goddamn gloves in this weather.

But why should he wear gloves, when it's so hot, he's almost boiling?

She's silently standing in front of him and he still thinks she'll disappear any second now, even though he keeps a firm grip both on both of her hands. He worries that the storm will take her away, that the snow will erase her footprints; that she'll be gone and he'll be all alone once again. And this thought hurts him, hurts him deep to the bone and so, before he can even think about it, his hands lock around her wrists.

It's all new and so incredibly fresh, this bond between them burning white and pulsing like an open wound but she must've sensed his discomfort from the way he grabbed her, because her expression turns from awe-struck to soothing; she gently wraps her fingers around his wrists, her thumb circling on his skin - the caress that almost stops his heart's beating altogether.

"What's your name?" he asks and he almost doesn't recognize his own voice; it's raspy and desperate and he nearly laughs at the irony of a situation. He'd know her anywhere, blind and deaf and lost and still, he knows nothing about her at all.

"Mikasa" she answers, so quietly that the wind nearly steals her voice away before it can reach his ears. "My name is Mikasa."

Mi-ka-sa

"My name is Eren." there's a laughter in this introduction, lightness and less strain than before. "Guess I finally found you, huh?"

She can only laugh back at that. Laugh, because while the tension between them turns so unbearable that she's half a second away from letting go of his hands, she somehow wants to move closer. Because she wants to feel his arms wrapped around her waist, wants to bury her fingers in his shaggy mop of brown hair, wants to lean up so that the tips of their noses would touch. Laugh, because she has never felt so light, so alive and she knows for an undeniable fact that it's all new to him too.

His smile is fond. Gentle is the way he slowly, carefully, unwinds her fingers from around her wrists, but they both hiss in pain and the sudden loss of contact. The burning warmth is replaced by biting cold and all in them screams to not let go.

They know the standard procedure of the first meeting - there is more than one and it's all up to them. Sometimes destined couples give in to the pull straight away, deciding that they have a whole life for talking and disappearing from work and social life for days until they emerge with hair messed up and hearts full, so in love it hurts to look at them. Sometimes they make an effort to take things slow, gradually; get to know each other on a detailed level, untangle the tangled-up net of emotions, resist the temptation of just touching in order to sort out how they fit in each other's lives first. And sometimes they just try to completely brush it off, discard the bond given to them so effortlessly and try to play pretend that that's a normal relationship; go to dates and chill out in larger groups before they take this one big final step.

Neither of those options feels right to Mikasa and Eren; she has already completely abandoned any notion of exchanging numbers and going home as if nothing happened. He, on the other hand, can't deal with the itch in his bones, pull that urges him forward to touch her just one more time. All of him is pushing him closer to Mikasa, but then he glances at her; at her shining gray opals for eyes, and the shade of rose painted on her cheeks by the frost.

He doesn't want to fuck it up.

Not now, not with this girl. He can't bear the thought of simply leaving, not now that he finally found her, but if she wants to leave and brush it under the rug, he won't stop her.

( Carla's voice rings clear in his ears oh my boy, this urge to put this person before yourself - you'd think that's something good, but it is why it all ends badly more often than not.)

Thankfully, she doesn't seem to want to go either; she opens her mouth as if to say something and the abruptly closes it, crimson flooding her face as she tears her gaze from his face to stare at her shoes. Curiously, Eren probes the string of emotions between them; and as Mikasa's feelings echo back to him, he almost jumps out of his skin. It's fuzzy and undefined, but undeniable at the same time – need burns inside her, need and happiness, and a healthy dose of fear, and – yes. She's just as reluctant as he is to let go. He resists the urge to fist pump in a triumph.

She shivers as the cold wind blows right in her face and for a moment he is transfixed by the way the loose streaks of her hair dance around her face, and then, just as he's about to propose to find some place warm, she blurts out:

" My apartment is near."

Her face twists into a horrified expression and he fights himself so as not to laugh. Because, no matter all the grace and elegance she possesses, she is just incredibly cute like that; stumbling on her feet and flustered, so new to all of this. However, she seems so incredibly irritated with herself, that he concludes that she must act differently in normal circumstances, far more stoic and composed. If that's so, they'll make quite a pair.

His stomach makes a somersault at that though and he can't help but grin.

He leans down so that their faces are at the same level and moves closer; the sting of heat returns with the force twice as great as before as he brushes the stray hair from her face.

" Can I come over, then?" he asks quietly, voice warm and rich as honey.

She nods, wordlessly, drunk in his touch, struggling to pull herself together.

His grin turns into a smile and before she can notice, he unwraps the scarf from his neck and loops it around hers.

" I know you said it's near, but you look terribly cold." he says by the world of explaining, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck and blushing under her surprised gaze.

And so, she just has to smile at that.

So, you made it to the end of chapter one. Congrats! I hope you enjoyed it and that you're intrigued enough by the premise to come back for the next part of this story. I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for all the tiny errors that might appear here and there. HUGE thanks to Lana ( marauders-groupie) for being the best beta and support group ever, I love you babe 3 ( also, if you're by any chance in the 100 fandom, you should totally check out her fics, they are simply magical).

If you liked this chapter, please leave me kudos or comments - they give me an actual motivation to continue with this story, which I very much need. Next part will be up next week ;)