He never felt this way before, why now? She looked at him even more intently, those dark eyes of hers, her face closer. He brought his mouth a little lower and she leaned up on her toes. Their faces were a centimetre apart and Erwin stopped. So did she. Their lips, half an inch away, almost touched. Neither of them spoke, nor moved. Erwin couldn't believe this was happening. Did he miss something? He was a chess master, and now something slipped through his fingers.
His hand went instinctively to her hair, his mouth moving a fraction of a millimetre closer. The most intense moment of his life, should he give in? He was not allowed to have such a luxury. He shouldn't, he kept repeating those words in his head. "I can't," He choked on the pain of it but forced himself to finish, sliding his hand over her cheek ever so slowly. Erwin's ghost smile fell away at the thought of the probability never seeing her again and he carved this moment into her memory. "I'm afraid. Afraid of the possibility of losing you." She barely moved, so he caressed her cheek, and then rolled his thumb over her bottom lip. Her mouth was open slightly; the young woman closed her eyes, entranced by the sensation. The feeling he had, the warmth he felt in his heart he thought no longer existed. He thought about what it would be like to kiss those lips. If he would let himself, he could capture those lips with his own and prove her very instant what she meant to him. However, he refrained himself.
Slowly, he tried to remember what he had been doing before this moment, where he had been, who he was, his surroundings swam into focus. He was in a large room with linen coloured walls, long wooden table behind him. Paper on paper, a small mountain could be seen now on the light-coloured table; empty cups of coffee near the candle. There were two middle sized windows. The curtains were open revealing a view of the training field. Opposite him was another table, smaller one; for teas, perhaps. Erwin's room was tidy to military standards of precision.
Her eyes were fixed on him with the liveliest expressions of tenderness and sorrow; she rubbed lightly against his hand without any effort to move. His thoughts were cut off when he felt small movement on his hand. She was warm, soft, and smelled so good. She smelled faintly of wood and lilacs — an aroma he remembered; loved and hated. It reminded him of something from his childhood, and of his dead father, of his whole life.
He was re-echoing all that his father had taught him about the Walls and all the other possibilities. It was his father, Mr. Smith, who had always taught him that when he had made a mistake, he earned a penalty to take it without whimpering. He remembered of his father's funeral: no one had stayed with him that horrible day. After his father's death, Erwin went away to those schools he was forced to, and he learned how to hide his true feelings and never mentioned the things that killed his father ever again. So many images came to mind when he recalled his father. There were moments when he missed his father, he wanted advice. But nothing came.
Erwin kept up his poker face. He rarely let emotions carry him away and when incredibly stressful situations did occur, he appeared even calmer than normal. He was good at hiding things, but the young woman was beginning to see his soul. Consequently he could become overwhelmed very quickly, as a child he learned to hide his feelings rather than to reveal them. He learned to build walls around his emotions. He used it during battles, losing his comrades left scars, but he kept moving forward. That's when you have to put your best poker face on and keep going. In other words, he learned to rely on himself; to trust himself to take action, no matter how afraid he was feeling.
The thing Erwin disliked the most was losing. He disliked losing any game. He hated it. It hurt his manhood and attacked his pride. Why should he lose? He is always planning and calculating everything far for the future. His thoughts were not calm as he realized how this could potentially end, for either of them. He smiled inside to himself at those words, knowing how he fought with himself. He admitted the fact that he did care about her, he was afraid of losing her. That gave her hope. A part of her was sad; however the other one was relieved. He let her close enough to him, sure, his wall was still high, but bit by bit she was overcoming it. He was a mysterious man. That meant he could keep his face really blank, like without any expression so no one would know what he was thinking. At battlefield his eyes were focused, showing nothing but willingness to fight, his muscles flexed. He always wore a brown jacket with wings on the back; you could've immediately tell that he belonged to military.
One dark, cold night, when neither of them could sleep, the blond man was sitting behind the table sipping his tea in silence when the door suddenly creaked open. Casually sipping his tea, he continued to read the papers; seemingly deep in concentration he did not realize he was no longer alone. The young woman greeted Erwin, but nothing came back. His face was concentrated and unsmiling, almost as if in pain, and he was holding, no, wrinkling the papers in his hands. The odd look was gone from his face, replaced by... what? Anger? Disappointment? Pain? She couldn't tell.
She shrugged and walked towards the cupboard, taking out a teapot. She poured water into the teapot put it on the stove and waited until it would boil. She had braided her dark hair away from her face. While she waited for the water to heat up, she prepared a silver teapot and filled it with tea leaves. She caught a glimpse of his expression while he moved the papers and muttered something under his breath. Erwin's fingers were lightly running across the first sheet.
He looked nothing like the heartless beast people described him. He was not the monster she had imagined, no, he was different. He was a kind man who meant well, with a peaceful, soft-spoken demeanour; but whose mind had been scarred by war and death. Despite of that, he was quite possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen. His hair was straight and a darker, honey-blond shade. She quickly lowered her head and rested it on her hand, shielding her face, hoping Erwin wouldn't see her. He had a soft face and hard jaw, his thick eyebrow made him look more serious. Erwin's pale skin was a match to the shade of his blade, and his round, sky like eyes seemed empty of emotion. Yes, he was a man of thousand faces, but his leadership was brilliant. But even so she felt closer to him than she'd ever felt to anyone. It felt like all these years he'd been a missing part of her and now they'd re-established their bond.
On the stove, the teapot was starting to whistle. A thin plume of steam was spewing out of the lid, as the whistle steadily grew louder. She poured the steamy water into the teapot. Immediately her nose caught the scent of lemon mixed with herbs as the steam wafted gently into the air. The young woman had smiled to herself as she filled the cup with warm tea and walked towards the concentrated man. She noticed right away that the room was very cold, and she began to shiver. Sitting down, she placed the tea in front of her, her hands near the cup to warm her up. Steam rose from the cup into the air. The man noticed this movement.
He looked up at her; there was something different in his eyes: a sharpening of focus that was enigmatic. She didn't look away when he "caught" her, but neither did she say anything. He did not notice her enter the room, which was a little disconcerting. One moment he had been on his own, and the next she was there, with him. He collected his papers and turned them over; he crossed his fingers and placed his hands over the papers. He had never really paid attention or looked at her closely. "You look well tonight." As he spoke, he watched her closely. The girl only smiled, taking the cup and she sipped at her tea; relaxing a little at the soothing taste.
He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her with her braids up. The long dark hair was tied up to expose her statuesque neck. Her skin was white, and unblemished. He liked what he was seeing. "Can't sleep?" Erwin sipped his tea and swallowed, sipped again. She didn't answer. Instead, she sipped her tea slowly making sure to take just a small sip at a time as she knew the tea would be hot. "Nightmares?" He asked again, sliding his hand down and entwining his fingers with hers. She didn't answer. She clenched her jaw, her lips drawing into a thin line. Her light eyes became glassy, her features hardened and smoothed, becoming immovable. She blinked fast and stared up at the ceiling in an effort to staunch the flow. No more crying. She didn't want to look weak in front of him, the strong woman she was. He knew instantly by the look in her eyes that she had been caught up in her own little secret, and she didn't want to answer. So he asked her again, repeating the question. She faked a smile bigger than the pastor did during masses. "No, I just couldn't sleep. That's all." Erwin felt her hand tremble as he held hers. He softly squeezed her hand. Running his fingers up and down her hands, he massaged her tightly formed muscles. Don't be afraid, he said.
They sat quietly, none of them spoke. It seemed to him that he could still smell the tea, although he knew that the scent was no longer there. He was able to tell when someone was telling the truth, or whether they were lying. She was a bad liar. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "But of course." He replied after a while, the girl bit her lower lip nervously, but then she nodded. He had already finished his tea; Erwin released her hand and reached up to cup her face. His action caught her completely off guard, actually blinking in surprise when she realized what he did. He gave her a warm and loving smile. "What a terrible liar I have here." She wished he would always smile like that, but that type of genuine, from the heart smile was a rare thing. Her eyes became watery, she dodged his stare, and then she closed them. Damn you tears, she cursed in her thoughts. He must have sensed that this was leading nowhere, however, because he released her cheeks and stood up; paying no attention to the empty cup he left on the table.
She heard footsteps walking slowly around her, her heart raced but dropped at the same time. She was confused, she wanted him to stay but at the same time she wished he would leave. Suddenly, there was silence and the sound of his boots hitting the floor stopped. She immediately thought that he left; she opened her eyes and looked around. He was sitting next to her on a hard wooden bench; he could feel the faint scent of her perfume. Was he doing the right thing? Maybe not, however, he could not stand to see her so down. Erwin thought he would never love again, and for a very long time he didn't. With great passion he fell in love with her. She managed to break through his walls and settle down deep in his heart. The fact that she tried to hide her emotions, tried to lie to him; created an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. This feeling was so distant to him, yet familiar.
His right hand came to rest at her chin, and then he lifted her tilted head up towards him. He then, moved his hand on her cheek. The size of his hand covered her cheek entirely. She lifted her left hand and grabbed his right hand and placed it on her left cheek, and she leaned her head on it. He began stroking her skin again. Erwin noticed how red and soft her lips were. He wanted to kiss her. His eyes told her that he did. He leaned closer. His left arm went around her shoulders while the fingers on his right hand continued gently stroking her cheek. He moved his fingertips against the corner of her neck. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing the tip of his jaw when electricity hit her and both of them moved aback. Looking down at her fingers, she chuckled to herself and then looked at Erwin. "Well, that was unexpected." She said, poking his hand with her index finger. Nothing came. "Certainly, I wasn't expecting this either." He chuckled. She leaned her head on his shoulder, as he rubbed her back lovingly and gently, his arm tightly around her waist. Somehow, her presence made him feel better. As soon as he put his arm around her, she scooted closer.
Erwin kissed the top of her head as she sighed. "Well there goes the mood." Letting out a long breath, she closed her eyes. His lips turn up in a wide smile, without letting her see it. "Probably faith is trying to tell us something." Although his smile appears genuine, there's something there underneath it. Sharing sadness, probably? She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Right, you are the one mentioning faith now?" She scoffed, meshed her brows, and glared at Erwin, as if he was out of his mind. "You never know." He said and looked at her, smile no longer on his lips.
After thinking for a while, she'd come up with an idea. She slowly ran her hand up over his stomach, ribs and chest. She could feel his muscles go taut under her palms. His eyes were fixed on her with such intensity that she was torn for a split second, but continued. Now or never, she told herself and pressed her lips to his. She felt him freeze, and she closed her eyes. She saw the kiss coming just as she had imagined it a hundred thousand times as she searched for sleep in bed. He responded and returned her kiss. Sorrow turned into affection as his hands touched her neck. He ran his fingers through the hair at the back of her neck, and his kiss deepened. She wanted comfort. He longed for acceptance, understanding, more than that he longed for love. He felt the softness of her lips under his and he let out a sigh of satisfaction as he felt her respond with the same need. She placed her hand on his cheek. After a full minute, she broke the kiss and met his eyes. There seemed to be an odd sparkle in his eyes, as if he was secretly happy. "I think faith did the right call." She said, her breath was steady again. Erwin cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" He asked, running his hand up and down her back. "Well, no one rammed in here. So basically, that's a good sign." She said, slightly amused.
The stubble on his face was rough and itchy as she caressed the side of his face. She then concentrated her fingers in his hair; blond and sleek. His eyelashes were long and defined. He nodded in agreement, indeed it was, he told himself. He'd die before saying anything aloud, but he was at least man enough to admit to himself that he truly loved her and needed her. He was well aware that after death, he will go straight to hell, so for the first time in his life he allowed himself to know what it feels like to be happy and loved. Even if it would last only for a while.