A/N: I needed to vent, and I was watching The Following when I originally wrote the concept, so I thought of doing something different this time. I wasn't going to finish this though, not until I heard the song Coconut Dracula by Islander. I borrowed the lyrics to set the theme.
Let me know what you thought please!
x.
You don't see the world the way I do
Your eyes, they no longer search for truth
Contrary to popular belief, Eren Jaeger is not the person his fellow trainees have taken him to be. He is not understanding, despite his independent nature. He is not kind, despite his generosity. He is not compassionate, despite his enthusiasm. And above all else, Eren is never in control of himself. Instead his existence is dictated by twisted morals, upheavals of anger, and generalized apathy for the corroding world around him.
There's not much he cares about that cares about him in return. That's how the world has always been for him. That's the kind of life he has come to accept.
This dark side – his real side – remains tucked up under the surface of his flesh. He's always been the boy who ruled his own future with frothing rage, unbridled passion bordering malice, and vengeance that curdles the blood in his veins like poison. But he is far from shallow, he has his ego in check, and he is most definitely reasonable.
Eren's real problem – like the intruding roots of his foundation have broken into a toxic watershed – is that he lacks a little human emotion called remorse. He was born without sympathy, a suppressed ability to empathize with the sick, injured, or crying, and as thus, he is incapable of emotionally connecting with anyone around him, friend and foe alike. His ever-constant, listless state of being is eclipsed by his will to do whatever it takes to survive, which is an almost sickening way of saying that he will kill whoever or whatever threatens him or the people he cherishes most, and he cannot comprehend the grave morality of his predaceous claiming of a life that does not belong to him.
Mikasa Ackerman vowed to Carla to protect Eren when they enlisted in the 104th shortly after he ran away from home (and of course Mikasa followed suit, reluctantly bringing Armin with her as he kissed his grandfather goodbye so he could go see the world outside the Walls). She doesn't know if she can protect him from himself.
All goes well, however, even though Mikasa regularly struggles to keep Eren in his normal and stoic state (by interrupting his fights with Jean, requesting that Shadis pair him up with either herself or Armin during 3DMG training sessions whenever possible, and retaining her upmost attention on her brother at most times throughout the day).
Then he meets Annie Leonhardt, or rather, spars Annie Leonhardt, which is a calamity induced by one of Reiner Braun's infamous blunders and Mikasa's own negligence to keep a closer eye on Eren that day. But the damage is done and just like that, with an almost simple snap of the fingers, Eren and Annie click together like the axel gears that keep 3DMG wires from tangling upon retraction.
Annie has always been a loner, rarely making conversation with any of the trainees aside from this upbeat and openly insistent girl named Mina Carolina, but from what Mikasa has gathered already, Annie is not normal. There is something off about her that rivals the mentality of Eren himself… and that is why they work. She is the girl who doesn't want remorse, he is the boy who offers none.
Together, Annie is capable of ripping Eren's compassionless nature right through the bones of his chest, reducing him to a state of psychological compliance Mikasa hasn't seen in him since the day he saved her life by murdering those men. Eren is happiest like that, though, where he doesn't have to fake smiles or pretend he's in a good mood so he won't worry his friends, where he can bleed sarcasm and pull his lame, bitter jokes and chat casually about his darkest, most malevolent ambitions.
Not a single living soul except Annie has that effect on him – and she did it through broken fingers and venomous kisses. But Eren likes pain just as much as Annie enjoys giving it. In a sick sense – or perhaps it is only sick to those who cannot ever hope to understand what they have between them – they're virtually compatible, practically perfect.
Armin always, always notices the new bruises on Eren's arms or Annie's neck and Mikasa will sometimes spot too-straight cuts and agitated bites in unusual places like on his shoulders or along his wrists. They know for a fact this a relationship no right-minded person would ever want, but in this world, the right-minded people are the first to die, so that doesn't leave much room for human morale in scarcely-knitted relationships.
That being said, Mikasa is acutely aware that Annie shouldn't be in a relationship with anyone, unless they had a fetish for getting stabbed.
There is something more, however, something deeper, something more lurid to Annie, that unnerves Mikasa. She can't quite place her thumb on what it is, but whatever it may be, no matter how dangerous or primal, Eren is too blind to see it…
Or perhaps, it is the only reason why he loves Annie Leonhardt at all.
x.
You're not out for blood, you only want what's beautiful
You're not out for blood, you're in love with truth
As someone who couldn't understand the thought processes of his fellow trainees, Eren quite often found himself sub-consciously judging all the currently top-ranking soldiers in his class, excluding Mikasa and Armin, of course. After all, they spend more time relaying their thoughts and emotions to him expressively, so he can focus on pretending like he gets them rather than having to actually attempt to understand.
First he glances around his table. Mikasa is teasing Sasha with her leftover half-loaf, Armin is pretending that everyone's an idiot so he nose is shoved into the pages of his book, and Jean is casually chatting with Marco at the end of the table next to theirs. Eren doesn't understand why Jean insists on sitting with them. They don't like each other and he blatantly ignores them most of the time.
Regardless, Eren is indulging himself in evaluating each individual person, skipping his sister because she's perfect at everything she does, Armin because he knows him well enough to have stopped caring long ago, and his own self and Annie because if he dared to divulge into either of them he might just lose what little of his sanity he keeps stitched to the front of his brain.
Sasha Blause seems like someone who is out of place, especially because she's the daughter of a poor hunter. Most hunters in Wall Rose had to face the terrible truth that there were more people in the lands than there were deer in the forests, and meeting the yearly quota while being consciously aware of the dwindling population was taxing, physically and financially. More hunting, less catching. Eren figures that's why Sasha has both an eating disorder and a desire to join the Scouting Legion: so she can help reclaim new territories for more people to hunt in, and she doesn't have to watch people starve.
Jean Kirschtein is a flat-out idiot. All he wants is an even better life within the Wall Sina – because apparently living in a nice district like Trost and getting a particularly normal job as a blacksmith, coppersmith, or even a goddamn whitesmith isn't pleasant at all. Selfish, really; he's already great with his gear and his skill with his swords isn't half bad. He could be using these assets in the field (lord knows they need all the help they can get). And his bark is significantly bigger than his bite. Eren knows that first hand: they've been in numerous fist fights, but Eren's the best at combat (technically second to Annie, not that the instructors seem to notice however), and Jean learns this the hard way each and every time.
Reiner Braun and the twins Berik and Bertholdt Hoover are a trio of unlikely best friends, born and raised in the mountains, also from the same village as Annie. They had been her friends for a long time, evident when Reiner consistently presses all her wrong buttons and Berik is forced to break them up before someone got strangled while Bertholdt attempted to cool Annie down with soothing words. Bertholdt has a desire to join the Military Police, Berik the Scouting Legion, and Reiner has made remarks about joining either, but if Annie leans for the Police, he might follow suit. Eren thinks the MP could use less people.
Connie Springer, across the mess hall, is well-known for his aerial abilities, but his intelligence leaves much to be desired. The kid has a good heart though. He comes from one of the poorest villages in all three Walls due to meager geographical location, where there are too few trees to breed game and not enough flat lands to grow crops, so they're forced to grow bustles of cannabis. The introductory education system is in more shambles than his own family history, but he has a desire to join the Military Police so he can get enough money to move his mother and two brothers out of their terrible life and into a nicer area. Another good soldier, wasting his talent.
Christa Renz. No one knows her back story. She's beautiful and charming and cunning all the same, with more guys fawning over her than a dog in heat, but she's strong and fearless, and has already claimed devotion to going outside the Walls with the Scouting Legion. If she exploits her natural good-looks and intellect she could probably get everything she ever wanted and not lift a finger. But despite how her grace and kind words give Eren a chill, he knows the Legion could use a soldier like her.
And then there's Marco Bott, a pleasant boy. He's too nice, which is why Eren scoffs at the thought of him being a soldier at all, but Marco is gifted with this little thing called motivation, which doesn't inspire people the way a leader would, but he acts as more of a backbone and support to his groups. That's something rare to come by these days. It keeps teams together directly where they're falling into shambles. Another Military Police-bound soldier. He wouldn't survive in Titan territory anyway.
"Eren."
He recognizes her voice almost as soon as she vents his name and he responds by glancing up to meet her glacial stare. "Annie," he returns just as tonelessly.
"Can we talk?" She casts her glare to his group and adds almost menacingly, "In private."
He does that thing where he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, as if in considering the outcome of whatever he says next, or as if he's judging her. Annie hates that look. It bothers her. Makes her itch. She suddenly wants to cut his tongue out. "Alright," he agrees finally, "let's talk."
He follows her outside, remaining three paces behind her fluid gait as she guides him around to the quieter back of the building which faces the forest. After dusk it's always cast in shadow and brims to life with the premature sonance of insect chirps and the ember glow of the setting sun over the forest baldachin. It comes as no immediate surprise when she shoves him back against the shadowed hardwood wall.
"You looked bored," she muses as her lips find his and her nails bite into his wrists.
"I was judging our top-ranked classmates." He grasps her forearms and throws them around, ramming her back against the wall. She growls appreciatively in the back of her throat – it may as well have been a damn purr, given how force has always turned her on – and he traces his lips along her jaw. "It's disappointing most of them want to join the Military Police," he adds between kisses.
"That's one of the safest jobs to have now-a-days. You can't"—she gasps when he bites down on her pulse point—"ah… you can't blame them for being so rightfully afraid."
He lowers down to his knees, bunching up her intrusive bulk of a sweatshirt and nipping at her exposed naval, stimulating that sensitive patch of skin above her belt line. "It's human nature to have fear, but I prefer humans who show bravery in the face of death." He grins up at her, that goofy, boyish, handsome smile that has managed to win her heart over since day one. "I must sound inconsiderate; acting like I don't care about the value of a human life."
"Mm… You're a psychopath, doesn't mean you're incapable of caring about people."
"I'm not a psychopath."
"Yes you are."
"You don't know that."
She brushes her fingers through his adumbral mop of hair, engulfing his gaze in the icy chokehold of hers. "What person refers to others as human, but never once associates with them?"
He presses his lips into a thin line but chooses to say nothing. She picked apart his words so guilelessly, so quickly, and just like that she pieced together the deeper meanings and deeper connotations behind his thoughts, behind him. She's capable of being so observant. It pisses him off, he thinks, or it should agitate him far beyond what words could descriptively comprehend. Yet he actually adores her acute intellect (even if it's normally coupled with that smog of vanity).
"Ah, I get it… It's hard to associate with bloodline rejects and infuriating ingrates who can't function outside their own personal bubbles."
He scoffs. "See? Why do I need to associate with them when I have someone like you?"
Annie parts her lips to respond when an obnoxious bang jolts them back into reality. Eren shoots up to his feet with a start, shackles raised like a feral dog, and his glare darts for the origin of the clamor around the edge of the structure. He exhales his held breath, however, when Reiner appears with one arm around Berik's shoulder and the other pressed to Bertholdt's back.
"You can't say I'm wrong!" he remarks to add to their conversation, whatever it was about. "I mean, axil and axillary gear are basically the same thing! It's a common mistake."
Berik catches sight of Eren and Annie out of the corner of his eye. "Oh," he chirps, drawing to a halt so he can wave at them. "Hi Ann, hey Eren. What are you doing out here?"
"None of your goddamn business," Annie deadpans.
"Fuck off, it's just a question."
Bertholdt wafts his hands urgently as he steps between them. "Okay, let's not do this right now, Berik."
"She always starts with me. Quit taking that bitch's side!"
"I'm not-"
"It's guys' bath night at the lake," Reiner pipes up, noticing the sudden tension in the atmosphere. "Eren man, you should join us soon before the other trainees start showing up and it gets too rowdy… like last week."
Eren inclines his head as an affirmative nod. Last week, when Connie almost broke Armin's leg and Samuel split his forehead on a riverbed rock. "Yeah, sure."
"I'd choose your friends more carefully, Eren," Berik hisses as the boys saunter off, disappearing into the lining of the forest with Bertholdt's stressed pleas for Berik to stop taking Annie so seriously and Reiner's demands that they both just leave it alone.
Eren grunts humorlessly. "Assholes."
"…I saw it in your eyes."
"Saw what?" he demands, refusing to look at her still, his attention on the visages of the trainees ebbing out of sight.
"You were ready to kill him."
"Who, Berik?" A pause. "…Well, I wouldn't go that far, but he was being a bit of a dick. I probably would have punched him for you."
She hums in compliance. "But I started it."
He gyrates to face her as if startled by her remark, but his expression is crossing between a blank stare and something unreadable instead of one of thorough surprise. "You're really sadistic, aren't you?"
She hooks her finger under the hem of her sweatshirt and tugs it up to expose the bruises his mouth left on her skin. "Care to find out?"
With pleasure.
x.
I wanna be someone more like you
I need you to teach me what you know
"I can't believe your sister still doesn't trust me."
The frigid winter tide night has descended upon the mountain, marking the end of their day-long sierra training period. Eren had sauntered off from his group's camp on the uppermost plateau to cool off from his brisk fallout with that douchebag Jean, when he stumbled upon Annie digging through the snow, apparently hunting for rabbit dens (Shadis had left them to forage for their own food, as per usual, but while the trainees hunted for bigger game Annie seemed keen on finding the smaller, notably more defenseless creatures).
They're trekking gradually down a steep slope that would normally have been on the adret during the daytime hours, but now it is a trail cloaked in darkness, brimming with crooked, serpentine shadows beneath the lackluster moonlight as they saunter towards the secondary base camp, which had been set up by Annie's group at the middle plateau. That's when she breaks their prolonged streak of comfortable silence.
Eren scoffs at her remark and watches as his breath ebbs into a wisp of brume. "Remember that time during our wilderness survival hunt when we found Mikasa and Sasha with that felled deer? And you slit the poor thing's throat and then told me – in front of them, might I add – that death turns you on? Yeah, that might have something to do with it."
"I also said I was kidding."
He glances at her incredulously from the corner of his eye. "You certainly weren't kidding about it when you made me finger you against a fucking tree."
"True… but they don't need to know that."
The forest path breaks as they near the base plateau and the muted silver rays ignite the platform's blackness. Unlike Eren's camp where the winds threatened their tents, the zephyrs at this level are milder and not so bitter, but he finds himself struggling to breathe and leans back against the face of the stone. Annie huddles up beside him, setting the lantern down at her feet.
"The way you did it, though…" His voice trails off, as if he caught himself prating and realized that his underlying diction lacked his usual will.
She tucks her head against his shoulder. "Did what?"
"Slit its throat. There wasn't any sympathy. You just did it, like it had to be done… like you were doing it a fucking favor."
"I have sympathy," she glozes, "but living bores me, so I try to make things fun. My definition of fun makes me seem impressively merciless."
"You're a killer, a real killer, aren't you?"
"You say that rather hypocritically."
Eren stiffens against her. "I murdered those men for a good reason," he seethes, then inhales, then wheezes out his exhale. "You murder anything with a pulse for personal shits and giggles."
"Exactly my point: I make things fun."
"Answer my question."
"You're a real killer too."
"I was trying to save Mikasa from those rapist sacks of horseshit. They deserved it – they deserved to die five thousand times over!"
Annie thoughtfully turns her eyes upwards to the void of the nighttime sky. "Then we both did what we had to do… but the real question, Eren, isn't whether they deserved it… rather, did you enjoy it?"
"What does that matter?"
"It's not easy to accept the fact you've gotten someone killed. That makes you human."
"So accepting that you've gotten someone killed makes you human. What makes you a killer, then?"
"Accepting that you're the one who killed them."
"And what if I did enjoy it?"
"We're all killers, Eren… to admit that you enjoy being one, however, makes you something much, much worse."
"Fine. If I'm a killer, then what does that make you?"
She chuckles grimly beneath her breath. "The only thing worse than a killer is a monster, Eren. They fear nothing, everything beneath them can and will be trampled, and there is nothing more beautiful than the sound of snapping bones and the taste of blood between their teeth… Have you ever thought about being a monster?"
"…Like a Titan?"
"Like a Titan with a conscious. It's a scary thought, isn't it?"
"I'd have to kill you if you were a Titan, you know."
"Are you saying that I scare you?" She muses, pressing him back against the surface by his wrists, leaning up to brush the edge of his jaw with her lips.
"Nothing scares me."
"Then maybe you're a monster too. You just don't know it."
x.
I want my eyes to be like yours
I want to know what defines my worth
"What if I told you I actually hate myself?"
She has a wild rabbit in her lap after snatching it from its den. One fist clutches the tuft on the back of its neck while her other hand strokes the adumbral fur along the length of its back. Its breathing is rapid, sides heaving and compressing quickly, in out in out in out. Eren knows that they should kill it as part of their wilderness training if they planned on having dinner tonight. However, Annie has not made a move for the knife in her boot, so he opts for utilizing his own blade to carve a discarded branch into a hefty spear instead. Just to occupy his time. This survival shit bored him, anyway.
"Why would you?" he asks tonelessly, skinning the bark from the surface of the stick's tip.
"Because sometimes I do. I really fucking do."
Eren presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek. That thing of his. "Uh-huh… well, I don't hate you. If that makes a difference, or whatever."
"I guess. I mean, it's like having human emotions, joy and fear and sadness – but it's just a mask, something you put on to fool everyday people into believing you're sane, that you're one of them; that there is no hurt or shame or an exuberance of happiness where it doesn't belong. It's a bodily function, I suppose, and it seems out of control."
She releases her hold on the rabbit and a split moment later is bounds off, back for its burrow she assumes, but its gait is slow from its broken leg twisted out behind it, catching on the haphazardness of the forest floor.
"Soon all the emotion disappears and the only thing left is anger. Anger for yourself, mostly. But you don't like hating yourself, so you look for someone to blame. You blame the world around you. Now you have anger for the world. But you know deep down that it isn't the world's fault, and instead of feeling better about yourself, you feel worse, because the blame is still on you and you alone. And then you're back to hating yourself. It's a vicious cycle really. It creates monsters."
He gestures to the animals with his spear. "Why'd you let it go? That was our dinner."
"Do you think the way they do," she deludes without meeting his gaze, "like I'm not human? Like I'm actually a monster?"
"That's the thing, Ann: I don't think like they do. We don't think like they do. We never have, we probably never will. That's why they look at us like we're the monsters – because they have always feared what they can't understand."
She ascends to her feet, reclaiming her discarded bow and a single arrow from the quiver dangling off his shoulder. "I'm glad you don't hate me, and I'm glad you aren't afraid of me. Monsters only have each other to hate and to fear, you know, because there's nothing else to."
"Does that mean we're not monsters?"
Annie draws the bolt back tautly on the slender, threadlike string, and lines the neck of the arrowhead between her forefingers. The rabbit is hunched over a cluster of roots beside a tree only several yards away. Its mangled leg is splayed behind it, rendering it incapable of moving on anything but a gradual gait as it finally yields to the jolts of pain burning through its body.
She exhales.
"Not yet."
x.
I don't feel used when I'm with you
I don't feel abused when I'm with you
The night glides upon the training grounds with all the grace and lethality of an edacious mountain lion, and the shadows sink their fangs into every crevice of the alley walls. From the building behind him, the cacophony of cheering and singing reverberates through the thickness of the structure, wherein the newly graduated trainees are celebrating their new milestone. Tomorrow they would start a day-long trial up-top their respectively assigned walls, and then it was on to choosing their divisions.
Eren has long since left Mikasa and Armin to dance with each other inside, and now he sits in the embracing solitude on the top step of the avenue's narrow escalier. He recognizes the sound of footsteps scuffing the cobblestone platform behind him as the building's door swings open and slams closed with a wooden bang.
Annie perches beside him, offering out the mug he had left at his spot at one of the tables, filled to the brim with fresh cider. "What's on your mind?"
A conversation starter to misplace his urge to avoid speaking. She's good like that.
"I'm enlisting in the Scouting Legion," he answers tonelessly, "just like Berik, Christa, and Connie. Mikasa and Armin want to follow me in, too."
"You'll get killed. If not, you'll get them all killed, and then yourself immediately after."
"Way to have faith in me." He drags his forefinger across the rim of his demitasse to collect the foam gliding up and over, sliding down thick and wet. When he licks the cloud from his hand he closes his eyes, for only that split second so he can focus on the sweet taste, and relishes in the vapor aroma of apples. "And what about you," he continues a moment later, "still joining the Bitch Brigade?"
She laughs gently at that. "Of course. I'll make money and not have to worry about getting eaten by a Titan." She threads her arm through the loop of his and sighs wistfully, leaning her forehead to his shoulder. "Maybe I'll even get married. I don't think I'll want kids, but I can't say for certain. It'd be nice to settle down as a start though; find someone I can torture with my sociopathic humor and philosophical life metaphors until death do us part."
"Married," he echoes mutably. "In a nice neighborhood with a good school nearby, just in case you do have a family…"
"And a market within walking distance. I hate having to travel too far." She traces figure eights on the underside of his arm where her fingertip runs over the massive scar she accidentally gave him when they were being too rough in the supply shed and they knocked a rack of 3DMG blades right onto themselves. "I guess I'll die in these walls, then, hopefully of old age, assuming I can live with myself for that long. Caged like the monster I know I am that society is too blind to recognize."
He offers out his flagon. "Then let's toast. Cheers – to death and to dying, as a monster or at the hands of one."
"Amen."
They knock their mugs together, sloshing the liquids over the rims and across the stone space between them.
"You should dance with me," he offers a beat of silence later.
"I don't dance."
"Neither do I, but I'll make an exception."
She smiles at the thought of watching him trip over his feet. Embarrassing and adorable, all the same. "I'm sharing one of the hotel rooms with Mina," she deludes passively, "I'm sure it's empty right now."
"Are you saying you'd rather get laid than enjoy the first festive celebration we've had since enlisting?"
"I've never been one for large social activities… it's all too human for me, too false. But if you want to dance that badly, I guess I'll be up for one."
He hesitates. "We don't have to, if you're not comfortable with it."
"I'm fine with pretending to be human in this boring world," she replies, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and entwining her fingers with his. "As long as I'm pretending to be human with you."
"Till death do us part," he mocks with a grin.
She sips her cider. "Or the hands of a monster."
x.
Oh please, can you tell me?
Is this what it's like to see through your eyes?
Is this what it's like to see?
She knew it was only a matter of time. It may have taken years – two, to be exact – but she knew it was only a matter of one miniscule slip up that would get her caught. But she simply couldn't help herself. The initial kill isn't what irked her monster into the light, oh no, it was the rush she received when she first sunk her knife into the abdomen of her prey (many times, again and again and again until it stopped screaming, until it stopped fighting back). It was the thrill of the hunt that set her off.
So she did it again. Again. To satisfy her craving and her urges and her abominable existence.
Like all hunts, however, soon there hobbles along a monster that sits even higher up the food chain, and just like that, Annie is no longer the huntress. This new threat comes in the form of justice: of a trail that she is brought to in chains and shackles, to be reprimanded and judged and sentenced and all she can think about is Eren. Cider and camp fires and swinging through the forest and hiking up the mountain sides in the void of night.
"I saw you kill that man," the witness says from their spot safely out of Annie's reach.
Annie would kill that human if she could. Personally she feels offended that they're displaying her like this. But she can't hurt anyone, not anymore, and she won't bother to try. Instead she pretends to be disinterested in the questions being bellowed at her and keeps her gaze on Eren Jaeger in the sidelines, situated between two men she vaguely recognizes. Leaders in the Scouting Legion.
"Annie Leonhardt, you are hereby sentenced to death for the crimes you have committed against humanity."
She barks a harsh laugh. It's funny, it really is. "Monsters outside your walls," she jeers, shaking her chains, "and monsters within. Killing me won't change the world as it is. It won't make it safer and it certainly won't bring back the dead. Humanity is going to rot in these cages you call barriers and one day everyone is going to get what they deserve! Death comes to everyone, at the hands of a monster or at the hands of the Reaper because the rest of you are all cowards!"
The guard to her right strikes her across the face with the stock of his rifle.
"The date is set for next week," the judge declares.
And just like that, her reign as the queen, as the hunter, as the killer, draws to an end.
So they throw her in a jail cell.
They lock the door.
They leave her alone with Eren and the two soldiers from the trail hearing. She can only think about how she wants Eren to break her out, and they could go far, far away, over the walls to live among the other monsters just like them.
"Seven people," Eren speaks up, toneless and placid, as he approaches the cell to meet her. "You killed seven people, Annie."
She's gazing at him from behind the bars. In a cage within a cage within two more cages. Eren would find it ironic if he didn't feel so sick in the gorge of his chest. She doesn't even seem to acknowledge the presences of Captain Levi and Commander Smith. They aren't there, just shadows skittering across the floors like the memories of their past, and instead she keeps all her focus on him.
"Are you afraid of me now, Eren?"
He doesn't answer.
"Do you hate me for what I've done?"
He remains silent.
"I love you, Eren."
"Is that the monster talking, or is this the real Annie?"
"Depends, which of us did you fall in love with? Or have we always been one in the same?" She tilts her head at him quizzically. "And what would that make you, Eren?"
"I haven't gone on any mass murder sprees, so why don't you tell me?"
"Not yet you haven't. Maybe you will, maybe you won't, maybe the thought has crossed your mind so much you hardly notice it now-a-days…"
Quiet.
"Eren," Commander Smith utters, clearly uneasy with the direction of the conversation, but Eren throws up his hand to give them another minute.
She changes the subject, reaching through the segments in the bars to wind her arms around his back and pull him close to her. He holds her in return, pressing his forehead to the steel cylinders as he tries to embrace her the best he can. Annie's following words are barely audible, muffled beneath him but they are sincere all the same, "And here I thought I would die at the hands of a monster…"
He kisses her lips, sliding the hidden dagger into the back of her belt. "It's not too late."
"Till death do us part," she says quickly, "as a monster…"
"Or at the hands of one," he echoes.
They stand for a long while in their embrace, lips locked, his grasp possessive on her waist, her hands gentle on his cheeks, before Levi makes a crude remark about them wrapping it up before he hurled. Eren turns his back to her and follows Erwin and Levi out of the dungeon, into the winding stairwell, ascending out of the darkness and out of her sight. Up into the world above. Into the sunlight.
Leaving the only thing that's ever made him feel human to the fate of a monster.
.
.
.
.
.