"What do you like about me, Captain?"
"Hnnnn?" A low, inquisitive, rolling sound escapes his throat. "That's a strange fucking question, Petra."
"I mean it. What do you like about me, Levi?"
"Which part of you?"
"My personality… my appearance…" Her sweet tone trails a bit at the end.
"You're name. Petra: Stone. natural, sturdy and eternal like the earth."
"Okay, and my appearance?"
He quirks a brow as she pushes this question further.
"Your face."
"You have to be more specific, Captain." A flirtatious smile covers her contours, her eyes narrowing playfully.
"Your eyes."
"What about them?"
"The colour."
"The colour?"
"Hn." He nods stiffly.
"The colour's not that important, Levi." She speaks with a playful, light tone.
He studies her now; the speckled splay of lighted dots and shadows that break over her through the thicket above, casting splotchy patterns over her otherwise porcelain face, how the streams of crimson escaping her facial orifices play in such great contrast over her ivory skin; from her nose and her tender, pink lips that hang slightly agape, along one cheek; blood, cold and dry. A contrast of textures as well- her body crumpled and battered, her brow weak and tired, as her freckle-spiced skin is bordered so harshly with the rough tree bark on the rippling grass below his feet. And finally; Her eyes, cold… and pale… and gone. Lifeless and lost from this world. No longer like the warm honey of her being; kind and sweet and sunny. They are now greyed and glossed.
You're wrong, he thinks.
