He doesn't know what to do with her.
Really.
Not that she doesn't do what she has to do in an faultless way.
But he doesn't do what he has to do in a flawless way. Not anymore.
He'd try, hard.
With years of experience and routine behind, paperwork had become a reflex to him. Read all the lines quickly and sign, or write down reports, or even read them. That took him time, but it was easy. He could do that without fearing someone might die under his command. He could do it, and do it well.
But not anymore.
Because everytime he'd sit down, start reading or writing, his mind would wander.
Somewhere warm, sun shining and he'd smell flowers and see birds and hear them sing and she'd hum something deep in her throat and he'd slowly open his eyes and all he'd see would be delicate.
And then he would groan, loosen his cravat, put his arms on his desk and his hands on his forehead.
She's distracting.
Even more so when she's not there. Because all he can do then is think about her. And he knows, he knows she might think about him, too. He knows that by how her eyes light up when he's in the same room, he knows by the way she'd say his title –oh please, even his title sounds good on her lips-, he knows when she blushes at the bare contact of their hands while training, or handing reports, or whatever.
It's unfair because it doesn't seem to affect her when she's on duty. And then he feels pride bubble up in his chest. He had chosen her for that, she's a capable, strong, skilled and smart woman, and she never let anything get in her way.
Not even him.
So he tries. He tries to focus and keep her out of his mind, when he knows that he can't brush her off of his heart.
She tries to sleep.
She tries, so hard.
But she can't, not tonight.
So she sighs, because she doesn't know what to do with him. And she feels ridiculous because she knows he sees her as a valuable comrade, and part of herself is proud, for that is what she had always wanted to be : a skilled soldier, a hope for Humanity to survive.
She can't help it though, she can't help but feel like she had, at some point, looked at her superior the way a woman would look at a man.
And she fell. And now it isn't easy for her to do simple everyday tasks. She can't sleep, because he'd suffocate her. She can't eat properly when he's in the same room because hunger seems to disappear, and it's instantly replaced by a bunch of ridiculous butterflies.
God, she can't even clean without thinking about his clean-freak tendancies and start going on the same spot multiple times just so it's perfectly clean.
So she trains, she works, she writes. That's when fear leaves her and runs down her body, mixed with sweat and sore muscles. That's when the rage inside of her bursts and her blades cut deep enough through those giants' flesh. That's when her mind focuses on the little details she might have forgotten to write on her report.
She closes her eyes again, and tries really hard not to fall harder.
She doesn't know what to do with him.
Thanks for the lovely reviews !
I know this has no plot whatsoever but I couldn't sleep and these two kept bugging me so I had to, ya know ?
I hope you like it ! Reviews ? :3