Chapter Text
i know how you must feel. lost. alone. hopeless.
you probably deserve it.
—
i whip my cloak around me, veiling my frame. 845 yielded a harsh winter.
i inhale, charging for the exit of my quarters. a full-body mirror makes itself known to my peripheral. my body slows, then halts slightly in front of it. i turn my head, darkly staring into my reflection.
past words of a familiar voice haze my mind.
chin up.
i snap my head and my mind forward, straightening my posture as i exit the comfort of my bedroom; striding out of the women’s lodging and down the hall.
my thoughts buzz through my ears as i lightly bite the innards of my cheeks as my brows furrow. i twitch with irritation. would it have been uncouth to have a glass of wine with my bread ration this morning?
“y/n!”
i immediately dart my eyes back, my frame stiffening.
it was just hange. i exhale slightly.
“section commander…” i greet.
“woah there! tense, much?” the brilliant chuckles.
“something like that. what’s up?” i nod up my chin as i make the inquiry, morning rasp riddling my cords.
she huffs out as she catches up to me. “i need you to take over my squad. and don’t worry; miche knows he’ll be missing you today. had to fight him for ya.”
my eyes widen slightly. me? i am not in any position of power within the regiment like my comrades, miche and hange. i always wanted it… i just wasted away any potential i had before i passed the point of no return.
i readjust my expression to ensure composure.
“sure, hange.” i say warmly.
“ah, thank you! i got dragged into some meeting with the garrison regiment. erwin is sending me on the survey corp’s behalf,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully.
the name sends shivers through me. she obviously doesn’t know what happened between us.
“i get him a gift to congratulate him on his new position and this is what he does to me,” she sulks.
erwin… you’re the 13th commander of the scout regiment. lord, as if you couldn’t get any more intimidating.
you being an even more unavoidable figure in my life now is really the cherry on top of everything that happened.
“anyway, i’ll be off! thanks again, y/n.” she says, sweetness on her tongue.
we both say our goodbyes and she walks away all uppity. bless her.
i turn back around, my heart clenching around his name. my head begins to throb, goosebumps trailing my forearms.
it must be time.
god, already?
i check my watch. i have 10 minutes to get there. it’s enough time.
i head to the nearest bathroom, sleekly slipping into one of the stalls. i unbutton my shirt just enough to reach into my bra. i shakily find what i’m looking for.
after retrieving it, i place it into my left palm, staring at it. perfectly blue, the bane of my existence bores it’s metaphorical eyes into mine.
2mg of coderoin. it was enough to satiate my phyiscal withdrawals and coat my opioid receptors nicely, turning the day into a bit of a daydream.
i leave the stall, the mirror halting me yet again. a faded scar trails above my left cheekbone. my wild, long hair trails down to my gaunt waist. my eyebrows are furrowed, my skin pale. i look ill; the natural tint in my lips are the only feature countering that.
he was right. i am gone.
i let out a little ’tch’, then continue stalking the halls, a warm energy emitting from all corners. it’s kicking in, at least.
—
i eventually make it to the training division where hange squad is waiting, talking amongst themselves until they see me.
they all gently salute. hange must’ve informed them.
i stand a few steps above the rest of the group as they all listen to me explain the content for the day. as i explain, i aim to be sharp and concise.
“we’ll start with hand-to-hand sparring as a warm-up. after that i’ll conduct situational drills and squad formation exercises.” as i am explaining, a constant whisper lingers from a burrow in the squad.
“nifa.” i call out calmly.
her eyes dart to me from the side, clearly pent up; and likely not satisfied with hange’s choice.
she hesitates, but only for a breath. the others shift back to make room, boots dragging faintly in the dirt.
she reaches me, and our sides face the crowd. we’re the same height; but she is less toned than i.
“i would like you to assist me in demonstrating.” i say, hands behind my back as she steps closer to my face. she nods, eyes sharp as they align with mine.
the first move is always the boldest. she lunges fast, sharper than i expected, aiming to sweep my leg. i pivot, catching her arm with my forearm and redirecting the momentum so it slides past.
she recovers quick, twisting into a jab for my ribs, but i block again; harder this time, enough to make the sound echo against skin and cloth.
there’s a brief rhythm in the exchange: jab, block, step, counter. she’s quick, i’ll give her that; but quickness burns itself out if it doesn’t have direction. she presses too fast, too eager to make an impression, and that eagerness leaves space wide enough to exploit.
i feign a stumble to bait her, and she bites. the moment she drives in close, i hook her wrist, twist her arm down, and sweep her balance from beneath. she hits the ground in a thud softened only by dirt, my knee pinning her shoulder before she can breathe back a counter.
the squad goes still.
i don’t gloat, nor do i linger. i release her wrist, stand, and extend a hand. after glaring for a moment, she takes it.
“impatience is the fastest way to lose,” i say, turning back to the group. my voice stays even, no bite.
“your first strike should never be a gamble. you wait. you watch. and when you move, you do it because you’ve already seen the opening; not because you want there to be one.”
a few nods ripple through the line. nifa brushes dirt from her sleeve and returns to formation. i let the silence stretch only a moment.
“pair off. let’s run it.”
as they disperse, i stand watch, lightly thinking about what could’ve been. how natural it feels to be up there. i cross my arms, analysing. i go and engage with each pair, doing my rounds until i am satisfied.
—
the squad returns, sweat streaking faces, boots scuffing the dirt. i let them settle into position, hands behind my back, observing.
“imagine a titan appears at the far wall,” i begin, voice even. “how do you arrange yourselves?”
answers come in. i nod once, then tilt my head slightly. “if the line is too thin, the center collapses. if you tighten the flanks, you lose mobility. consider all angles before committing.”
one after another, they respond. i counter, probe, redirect. the exercise is a dance of observation, each misstep a window to point out. the squad’s breathing grows heavier; sweat drips down necks, arms ache.
i continue the questioning, moving through scenarios; attacks from unexpected angles, simulated injuries, split-second decisions.
finally, one soldier speaks hesitantly, “but… what if we rotate the front line faster? wouldn’t that—”
as much as i loathed erwin for the moment, his long-range formation approach revolutionised the scout regiment forever. one can’t help but to look up to him.
i step forward, hands still behind my back, voice steady. “then you rely on reaction rather than anticipation. the formation is a network, a system. it gives every soldier the best chance we have. the highest survival rate. the sharpest coverage. any shortcut, any improvisation without calculation, and you reduce every advantage we hold. that is why it is followed.”
a quiet settles over the group, the weight of the answer sinking in.
i pause, then let my gaze sweep across the line. the silence stretches and something in the air shifts. the soldiers glance up, and through the corner of my eye, i notice him.
erwin.
in all his regimental glory, he stands at the edge of the clearing. silent, unassuming. his presence alone carries weight. he watches, still, like he’s weighing every move.
erwin steps forward from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, just far enough to remain unobtrusive. his gaze rests briefly on me, then the squad. he turns and walks back into the building, disappearing as quietly as he arrived.
i swallow the heart in my throat and continue our training, his last words parasitic in my mind.
on your feet.
i reroute the squad, starting physical formation exercises. i inform the soldiers that i will be getting involved alongside them for this activity.
i jump down the step. “let’s run it!” i repeat, circling my finger around as i lightly jog to moblit’s side to retrieve our horses.
i look to him and smile smugly. “missin’ the wifey?”
he blushes, mind with hange. “wh-! i don’t know what you’re talking about, section commander…” he says timidly.
“i wish i could make you call me that, but it’s y/n.” i laugh.
he looks at me confused. “aren’t you a section commander?” i shoot a just-as-confused look back to him.
“nah, mob… you got me mixed up.” i say with a slight chuckle.
“well, you should be.” he says warmly. i just smile in return as we all jump on our horses, stretching out to the wide section of the training grounds.
—
training was finally over. i dismiss the squad and kneel onto one of the steps, heaving. i slump my head over, eyes still looking beyond.
i couldn’t stop thinking about him and his damned unreadable expression. he’s always been that way. i had to poke, prod and pry ‘til he’d vaguely tell me what’s on his mind; never letting up his armoured front.
cold bastard.
i didn’t mean the words i thought. i’m just beat. it’s not often i don’t get my lick back, and it would be ridiculous if i tried to in this situation. he did nothing wrong; aside from letting me off easy…
i can’t help but remember the coldness in his eyes as his large frame hovered over me. there was nobody more befitting to be the prodigy that is the 13th commander of the survey corps.
cravings for a harsher buzz start to compel me. but i have paperwork. if i slack or doze off, i’m fucked. i’ll be found out again.
i let my head rest against my knee. “fuck.” i whisper, goosebumps returning. i can tough it. i know i can.
“hey.” a familiar, husky voice appears behind me. i flinch, whipping my upper body around. it was my section commander, miche. how did i not hear him approach? was i that lost in my thoughts?
miche was sort of like my saviour out of a bad situation, and he didn’t even know it. we’ve grown fonder of one another over the years. in well… many ways. it’s one of those ‘we know but we don’t talk about it because the unspoken tension is what makes it sexy,’ kind of things.
we also make each other laugh. i can be rowdy with him, unladylike. i look up to him and his sense of coolness. he’s quite zen, despite being a brute. he’s rubbed off on me quite a lot.
“section commander…” i breathe out, standing up to elevate my height as he was a whole foot taller than me. my legs make my figure appear taller, but there’s no escaping the truth when miche’s around.
the standing doesn’t do much, but at least i don’t have to entirely snap my neck up to see him.
“what’s doin, kid? heard you got stuck with hange’s group. yikes,” he ruffles my hair, chewing on a toothpick.
“hey—“ i gruffle softly, lowering my head as i try to force his wrist off my head. he lets go by his own will.
he inhales my scent. “seems like they gave you a run for your money.” he says with a small smirk.
i jolt. “ no ,” i clutch my body and step back. “i do not smell bad.”
“not bad.” he leans in closer. “good.” he says. thankfully, he certainly wasn’t referring to unpleasant body oder, just that salty-sweet skin after working hard.
i roll my eyes, smoothing my hair and brushing the front two pieces back with my hands, letting them fall back gracefully.
“whatever, you smell everything anyway. i wear my deodorising powder,” i say as i ruffle his hair back. “unlike you.”
obviously, i was kidding. he chuckles, showing his pretty teeth. “you like my smell.”
i raise an eyebrow, amused. “nyeah? how do you know?”
“because you’re always next to me.” he says confidently, his hand out with his eyes closed.
you laugh. “that’s because of the formation, meek. nice try, though.” i firmly pat his back as i walk past him as he pouts.
“you should really learn how to respect your superiors, you know?“ he playfully tests, his arms crossed.
i stop and turn my head back. “maybe you should work some into me.”
“i ought’a.” he says, a seductive stitching in his voice, “oh and…” he stops me.
“eat somethin’, man.” he says, a little worried look on his face.
i just blink softly and smile, then wave goodbye as i’m walking away, heading back into HQ.
he was right. i wasn’t gonna get through much longer, so i tread toward the mess hall to grab an apple before i start on the mountain of paperwork that levi is making me do. or rather, captain levi. still getting used to it.
criminal turned captain… a lot of soldiers thought it was crazy, but not necessarily in a disapproving nature. we all tend to trust erwin’s decisions implicitly, unless proven ineffective on multiple occasions.
as i head across, i see the commanding wing as i pass. i shudder as i know i’ll have to head down there to retrieve the papers from the captain.
part of me wants to see him. erwin, i mean. that very part wants to look my best, keep my head up and charge past him without looking. it’s pathetic to think he would care.
it’s a new year. he’s far more concerned with his duties than what happened the last.
i get to the dining hall. it was relatively full as it was about lunch time. the only significantly familiar face i noticed upon my arrival was petra’s; who was eating a bread ration. i grab an apple and head toward her.
“hey, petra,” i say, sitting across from her. “you mind?”
her previously stoic expression grew kind, gesturing to continue sitting near her. “hey y/n! ‘course not.”
i smile, sitting down. as i start cutting pieces of my apple with a knife, i notice a bruise on the side of her face. “you okay? looks rough.” i say.
she looks puzzled for a moment before grazing her hand to the bruise, remembering. “oh yeah. hurt like a bitch. fell off my horse. you should see my side…” she says, rolling her eyes.
“damn,” i breathe. “happens to the best of us…”
“yup…” she sighs. “speaking of injuries, when did that scar come about?” she inquires, leaning forward. “i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages.”
i couldn’t tell her, no. i just went with what i told everybody else at the time. “underground criminal slashed me. i was escorting an MP on an arrest when there was a lack of work around here.”
“oh god,” she says, leaning her head on her hand. “well… for what it’s worth, it looks killer on you.”
i chuckle warmly. “thanks, pet. that definitely softens the blow.”
“what do you have in store for the rest of the day?” she asks.
“mountains of paperwork, courtesy of the captain,” i say, rolling my eyes. “and you?”
her expression changes a bit upon hearing about him, just slightly but noticeable to anyone who’s ever been in love.
“oh, that sucks… he can be a real pain,” she says sheepishly. “odm training soon. also courtesy of the captain.” she chuckles.
“good luck with that…” i respond, raising both my brows and cutting off another slice.
we converse a bit longer as we finish eating. we say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. before heading to the captain’s office, i stop by the bathroom quickly as i actually needed to use it this time.
i enter the stall, feeling my heart beat rapidly; almost nauseous. i go to exit after finishing up, but something stops me.
i close my eyes, furrowing my brows. faster than light, i reach into my bra again and bite off half a 2mg tablet, swallowing it instinctively.
“damn.” i whack the side of the stall, leaning my head against that very arm; diseased with shame.
i storm out of the stall, washing my hands. as i’m drying them, i wonder: what if i see him? i should go back to the mirror…
so i do.
i tread back embarrassedly, combing my hair with my fingers, adjusting my uniform and unbuttoning my blouse just one, ensuring it’s not too noticeable.
i flip my hair back and forth, bringing most of it back to the front when i lift my head back up.
good. i looked good.
i inhale, exiting the restroom and striding back into the hall and into the commanding wing, which was characterised by its dark green accents trailing the walls.
it’s quieter here.
all you could hear was muffled, drab conversations from offices / meeting rooms and the floorboards creaking under the wrath of my boots.
the wind blew mercilessly outside, rattling the windows. this area wasn’t as well-lit. there was something peculiar about it, but i couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
i reach near the end of the hall, eventually reaching the captain’s quarters. i do one a solid knock.
“open,” he calls out from within.
i gently step in, closing the door behind me.
“look at you, ol’ captain levi.” i say, extending my hand at the view of him all regimental.
“shut up,” he rolls his eyes. we spent some time together during our tenure as younger scouts, as we were both in erwin squad. we bickered quite a lot, but we always had the same outlook on things, regardless of how we went about it. we were just naturally comfortable with each other’s presence, really. we took shit from each other no matter what.
for a time, we were both a valuable asset to the scout regiment. now, with years having gone by, we’re both vets. but only one of us remained valuable.
“congratulations,” i say, walking in further. he nods thanks. i then slump onto the chesterfield couch to the side of the room.
“ off ,” he scolds, trying to get me up.
i swat his hand away, waving no with my pointer finger.
he just sighs and returns to his desk. and just like that, we were comfortable again.
“you know, cap,” i start, stretching my legs out, putting my arms behind my head.
“don’t call me that.“ he interrupts.
“it was great to hear you got a squad all to yourself. one in which you get to pick your team.” i smile with my teeth.
he side eyes me. “yeah…”
“was expecting a knock on my door.” i say. obviously, he knows i’m kidding. no captain in their right mind would choose me now.
“if you asked me a year ago, i would’ve. you fell off, shithead,” he says as he drops a pile of paperwork on the table in front of me.
my eyes widen at the mountain.
“sort.” he orders, heading for the door.
i raise an eyebrow. “where’re you going?”
he turns his head back. “to train the squad you could’ve been part of.”
i offer no retort, my mind drawing a blank on how to avoid looking vulnerable here. thankfully, he leaves and closes the door behind him.
some might say something as subtle as him letting me stay in his office alone doesn’t mean much; but i knew it did. i knew he trusted me, and i knew he didn’t know what happened between me and erwin. and above all, i’m sure he didn’t pry.
nobody did. all people saw was a sudden distance between us after years of our tactical alliance. time went on and levi became his right-hand man.
and me? left in the dark. likely known as the one who somehow lost a future in leading and became mediocre.
fuck. what a failure.
i shake my head, sighing as i begin sifting through the inhumane amount of papers sitting in front of me. this is gonna be a long evening.
—
it was around 6:20pm and i’m hunched over the same coffee table in levi’s office, sorting, writing, signing… the works.
as i rapidly sort through the last pile, a letter falls off the table. i rivet my gaze to the ground, instantly recognising the handwriting.
i kneel down, lifting it.
“levi,
see me in my office upon your arrival.
erwin”
a chill shoots through me. damn it, why? it’s a completely normal letter. anything remotely related to him makes me wanna pull my hair out.
i just put it in the disposal as it’s clearly not a recent request, hence it being in the final pile.
my head was tensing as my ears were buzzing from the silence.
i start humming a familiar tune as i get up to the last step, which was appointing the correct documents to either be mailed or kept in folders.
i continue to hum for awhile, standing up as i start placing things into letters or folders.
i then hear floorboards creaking outside. not just outside, but outside this very door.
i stop humming instantly. somebody is here, and they just halted their movements due to their previous noisiness.
could it be…
keep humming that tune. it’ll keep me awake.
that very voice that’s been hazing through my mind for months graces me again.
erwin… you’re just a dream now.
no. you left a long time ago. and i was never getting you back. not as a comrade, not as a confidant; and certainly not as what i thought we were.
it might has well have all been an illusion.
i’m starting to think it was. i would be better off that way.
with the turn of a heel, the heavy footsteps descend. whoever was there was gone.
i finish up with my work, placing the organised files on captain levi’s desk again.
i leave a note.
“all done. let me know if you need anything else, cap.
y/n”
i needed to leave as soon as possible. it had now been a few minutes since the footsteps’ departure, so it seemed that now was a good time to go.
i quietly turn the doorknob (it squeaks regardless of course), then close the door behind me as i speed walk down the wing.
my head is down as i charge through the halls, facing the floor.
quick, y/n, i think. just get down this hall and you can wind down with another coderoin.
i’m sure to be near the end of the commanding wing. as i lift my head up to check, i had suddenly been bumped backwards by a figure turning in from the right corridor.
i quickly latch onto the wall near me before i could fall on my back. that was so close. instantly, i knew it was somebody large by the intensity of the collision. maybe it was just the heaviness of their step, or—
i look up. like a merciless god, he stares down at me. i feel my entire body heat up, and i physically flinched a bit.
it just had to be you.
suddenly, everything feels like it’s crumbling under my feet, and i’m just trying to keep my balance.
what a sorry sight i am. he had moved up the ranks yet again and here i was, stagnant. somehow, he seemed bigger. perhaps the commander gets to eat well. or maybe it was illusive as i felt so pathetic beneath him.
i’m sure he could’ve saw straight into my heart through my widened eyes. i stiffen up, adjusting my posture and my gaze; feeling the wall behind me. i clear my throat.
his hardened expression doesn’t waver. it almost never does.
“i apologise.” he says.
there it is. that voice, soothing my ears like medicine, simultaneously rupturing my heart like disease.
i look back up at him, then straight back down. i swallow and nod, as if to say ‘yeah, it’s fine.’ for some reason, i couldn’t find myself to speak.
he stares for just a moment, likely scanning to see if i was physically ok. i doubt he cared beyond that.
he then walks away, adjusting his jacket, his scent finding my nose.
i start to feel dizzy with nostalgia, feeling myself melt against the wall as i watched him leave. we hadn’t spoke since that day.
every part of me wanted to run up to him, beg for remorse, though the fact i’m even still here proves that i had already received enough.
suddenly, my cheek is wet. i look down, touching it lightly. i hadn’t even noticed a tear spill out.
i wipe it away roughly, furrowing my eyebrows, charging to the women’s lodging as fast as possible.
—
luckily, i hadn’t run into anybody on my way back. i reach my door, slamming and locking it behind me. i slide down, hyperventilating instantly.
god, why am i taking this so rough? i hold my head in my hands, heaving. just make it go away, i wish could—
make it go away.
i lift my head up slowly, pausing. i reach into my bra and take the remaining milligram, then quickly crawl to my bed, reaching for the suitcase under it.
“c’mon,” i say, rapidly opening it. i lift up the clothing inside, an insane amount of blue tablets scattered beneath them. i instantly pop 2 in my mouth, taking the cup of water on my bedside and drowning them with it.
thank fuck.
i relax my back onto the side of my wooden bed frame, and my head onto the mattress.
i smile softly, knowing all my troubles would be out of reach soon enough.
here, i could get as fucked up as i wanted. behave how i wanted. react how i wanted. here was my sanctuary.
it was starting to set in. “mmh…” i murmur delightedly.
before i got too drowsy, i got up, dressing myself into a black winter outfit, tobacco smokes in my pocket.
i exit my room, taking the both thin and white blouse and pants i had used today into the main washroom.
i wash them and squeeze out excess water thoroughly. i hang them on the small rack in my bedroom, and leave once again.
i grab a ration of bread from the mess hall, taking a thin candle, lighting it on the stove and head out to the courtyard before anyone could notice me. i kind of needed to be alone.
it was freezing out here. i sit on top of a table, quickly lighting a smoke and placing the candle next to me.
i inhale the smoke, the exhale so direly satisfying. i let my head swing back as one of my arm rests behind me.
yeah, the morphine was definitely hitting. thank the walls for that.
i sit there for awhile, finishing the last of the smoke and my bread, lost in a sea of thoughts.
“what a sight.”
i smile before looking behind me. it was miche.
i turn to face him. “hey, miche.”
“oh,” he exclaims, a concerned look on his face.
i raise an eyebrow.
“have you… been crying?”
of course, i lie. “no, dipshit it’s just cold,” i laugh. “you should know better than to pick on someone’s appearance, section commander…”
he laughs heartily, inviting himself to come sit next to me atop the table. “you should know better than to be smoking rather than eating dinner.”
“i just finished eating. you missed out.” i say cheekily.
“oh yeah? what’d you eat?” he tests.
“bread.” i say with a proud smile.
he laughs again. “how about a meal? like stew?”
i roll my eyes, my eyes darting down to the candle in his hand. “weren’t you just lecturing me about smoking?”
“no,” he starts, putting a smoke in his mouth. “i lectured you about smoking instead of eating. i already ate.” he pats his stomach, proud.
“if you’re so worried about my eating habits, why didn’t you invite me down to dinner?” i ask.
“and be seen in the women’s building again this week? yeah, no thanks. i can’t be seen as that easy, y’know…” he says.
“i think you already are, meek.” i say with a laugh.
“get outt,” he rolls his eyes, grazing my arm.
he was really hot; especially in the inebriated moonlight. i just look at him fondly. he then looks to me, sharing the same expression.
he tilts his head, shaking it just once, as if to say, ‘what are you thinking?’, leaning back as he does so.
i shake my head once back, as if to say, ‘nothing. just looking,’ our eyes glimmering in the moonlight.
“you look sleepy…” he then says. i instantly gather myself. i can’t have anybody thinking i’m under the influence, especially if any suspicion gets back to erwin.
“because i am,” i breathily chuckle. “i should head to sleep.” i say with a smile, grabbing my candle.
he hasn’t stopped softly smiling. “yeah, you should. you’re back with us tomorrow,” he says, referring to his squad. “and you know i won’t go easy on you.”
i bring my tongue to my upper canine. “wonderful…” i say. “anyway, goodnight,” i speak with warmth.
“mhmm,” he says, content. he brings an arm out. i smile softly before scooting closer to him, resting my head on his stocky chest as he engulfs me in a warm lock. i could fall asleep here, truly. he was so big and warm, and his musk was driving me crazy.
i let out a small ‘mmh,’ as i melt into his arms. i push myself to let go, and i do.
he waves goodbye, and i do the same as i jump off the table and back into HQ. i find my way back to my room, so ready to embrace my inebriation as i sink into my mattress.
—
i slip into my warm sleepwear, brushing my teeth in the small bathroom i shared with the girl who sleeps in the room next door. she was away on familial duties.
i ignore the reflection this time. i was spaced out anyway, desperate to get in bed.
i finally do, shielding myself with my winter covers, hugging my pillow for comfort. everything felt so good right now. i wish i could stay in here forever.
i wish… i…
i wish there was some certainty in death. i wish for death to grace me through waves of energy, rendering me high for eternity, where i am not sentient enough to be bored, upset or empty. when i’m gone, i want the only shred of consciousness i have to be the assurance that i feel good.
i sink into my thoughts, dozing off.
“erwin…” was the last words i muttered.
—
“erwin!”
i squeak out frantically, my heart racing, holding my gushing facial wound with one hand, him firmly gripping the other as he drags me into his office.
“captain.” he corrects with a heady voice. he closes the door behind him, letting go of my hand and pushing me back. i now face him.
“what, we don’t know each other anymore?” i say, holding back tears.
“i’m afraid not. you may know me, soldier, but i certainly don’t know you.” his voice remains cold, a tone i don’t hear from him in private conversations; only when he was working.
i stay silent. he takes a step closer, shaking his head, looking down at me. he looked painfully disappointed.
“what have you done?” he says, shaking his head.
i look up, my eyebrows furrowing. “why are you acting like i’ve done this to spite you?—”
“because you have! consciously or not!” he raises his voice, causing me to tense up even more. he takes another step toward me. i was really in for it now.
“what would my subordinates think of me if i knew one of the very criminals we prosecute is working under my wing?”
“it’s…” i shake my head, looking down, direly ashamed. “it’s not that simple…”
he pauses for a moment. inhales.
“you’ve put me in a position i cannot escape.”
“erwin, i… please… you have to understand… i’ll stop doing it. i’ll stop. i promise—“
“don’t make promises.” he says, putting his hand up.
he pauses again. it felt like forever, like i was stuck in a hyperbolic time chamber, enshrouded by flames.
“are you addicted?” he finally says.
i process what he says for a moment, then slowly look back up. i swallow.
“are you addicted?” he bellows.
“yes!” i yell back, covering my ears and shutting my eyes closed. i couldn’t bear to hear him yell.
he just stares. we stay like this for a minute. then two. then three. we just stand, looking at one another.
“say something, erwin…” i whimper.
“i’m quite certain i told you not to call me that.” he says, his voice hitting me like ice.
“i’m sorry…” i say.
“you’re gone…” he murmurs as he looks away.
i apologise over and over, grabbing at my hair, beckoning under his heel. he suddenly comes closer, covering my mouth.
we’re so close. he towers over me as silence graces us. i was lost, lost in his merciless gaze. i finally whimper “please…” under his large, calloused hand.
after another moment, he takes it away, standing up straight, stepping back.
he thinks, softly grunting at himself before speaking. i knew then and only then, he would bend a rule and offer me remorse; something he wasn’t fond of doing.
“i will allow you to stay in the regiment under one condition.” he projects his voice with authority.
i nod my head frantically. “i’ll stop using, i swear—“
“that’s not it. i can’t fix what’s broken.”
my heart shatters with that response. i deserved every part of it, but i didn’t know he saw it so simply. he was offering remorse, not rehabilitation.
he continues. “you are officially out of my squad and will be placed in another by commander shadis.”
my everything collapses in front me, and yet; he wasn’t done.
“do not seek leadership. i don’t need you falling asleep mid-slice of a nape. don’t stand out. don’t get other people’s hopes up the way you did mine.”
i start to get nauseous. no, erwin… this isn’t the end…
“don’t force me to prosecute you. you are dismissed.” he he walks past me, seemingly heading to his desk.
no, i couldn’t just let that be the end of it. like an idiot, i kept pushing.
“erwin, i…” i squeak out, worried for our relationship. take my job, my life, my everything. but god, don’t take what we had, whatever it was.
“dismissed!” he bellows, turning back to me with cold eyes.
“please—“ i whimper. what was i doing?
i blink and suddenly, i have been struck. it might has well have been lighting, with the heaviness of his hand. it wasn’t all his strength, i knew that; but it was enough to make me lose balance entirely, falling on my backside.
i almost could’ve sworn i lost consciousness for a second and i woke up on the ground. i look up dizzily, trying to find his eyes while tears gush out of mine.
his eyebrows twitch, a troubled frown on his face. he breathes heavily, recollecting himself. not from anger, no… but from what he had done. or rather, that’s what i like to tell myself.
he steps forward just once, his cloak hanging on his frame. i look down to his heavy boots.
“on your feet.”
—
i gasp as i wake, shooting up. i instantly rush to the bathroom next door and throw up in the toilet, tears streaming down my eyes.
it wasn’t a lot.
i flush the toilet, washing my hands and brushing my teeth again. damn it.
i hesitantly look up at the twisted reflection, my eyes incredibly dark, my pupils practically gone from the extensive opioid usage.
my front crumbles in the mirror. i fall apart in front of it, kneeling down as i clutch the sink for balance.
“erwin…” i cry softly, my voice gentler than it had ever been since that day.
“i can’t stop missing you. i don’t think i ever will.”
i curl up under the sink, falling asleep there.