The rush on the street hinted their return. I could not help but hold my breathe, a scream of joy and dismay both trapped in my throat. From afar I already saw the numbers of survivors being significantly lesser than the amount of soldiers that left our retreat behind the walls and this sent my heart pounding as if it was to jump out of my chest.
Despite a small frame and fragile, pointy shoulders, I've managed to push through the crowd. I needed to know what made it back, I had to see with my own eyes that he has returned.
"Look at those lunatics! How many casualties have they got this time?"
A man next to me sneered and was soon followed by the mob who, instead of cheering the heroes, badmouthed them to hell and back. The bitterness of this unfairness would have hit me had the mad anxiety not possessed me first. In my head the worst scenarios kept replacing one another, filling the hazel eyes of mine with premature tears. I wiped them off at once, firmly decided to only weep when the time came. How much I hoped it wouldn't!
As the Survey Corps entered the main street, insults and complains echoing left and right, I hectically scanned faces of the soldiers to find the one I longed to see.
"Please, please, please be alright."
I clasped my hands together as if for a prayer and pressed them close to my chest, muttering the same chant as if kind of a prayer. The man to shout out couple minutes ago then acknowledged my presence, noting the small ritual I performed.
"Huh? What do we have here?"
He leaned down to stare me in the eye and I nearly retched at the stench of booze coming from him. The snarl on his face did not encourage me either – he would not be so insolent had I been wearing military uniform I put to rest on my days off such as that one was.
"One of those bastards got himself a fine wench, I see."
The man roared with drunken laughter, and now it was my turn to have a say. I might have been a mere member of Garrison, but no less brave than any of the Survey Corps. Petite, blonde-haired girl with fierce hazel eyes and well defined cheekbones, I've never seemed to pose much of a danger. Anyone with chubby cheeks, tiny nose and round feminine assets would barely ever be taken seriously, I grew accustomed to that. Had it been my choice, I'd be behind the walls with him instead of worrying myself to half death in this fake haven of security, yet he was the one to prevent me from joining the Corps, leaving Garrison to be my best choice.
"The only bastard here is you. A cowardly, useless bastard that can do nothing but disrespect those who risk lives for a brighter future while hiding behind the walls."
It was enough to wipe the sneer off his face, although it started gaining a dangerous shade of burgundy, as if the man was to explode.
"How dare you, you little slut! I bet your brave soldier became a titan snack a while ago, and if that's the case I will rape that tight cunt of yours bloody while you're covered in snot over your hero! Then you will learn who is the real man!"
He raised his fist to support his words, but it never fell to land on me. The man's wrist got trapped in a firm grip and a stern gaze clearly made him lose tension in the muscles. I could not help it but feel the widest of smiles to creep on my face. There was no need to weep for my hero, for he was right here.
"It is poor manners to raise fist against a lady." He simply stated, staring the man right in the eyes.
"Let go!" He squirmed, clearly panicking over such confrontation, and he fulfilled the drunktard's request. With what resembled a pig squeal, he rushed away from the scene of his embarrassment, looking over his shoulder as he bumped into bystanders, almost as if he was scared of being followed.
My hero, on the other hand, had not such intent. He instead turned his attention to me.
"Delice, are you hurt?"
I shook my head, unable to muster a word as I gazed at him in awe. Not only was I relieved to have him back – I was astonished by his beauty, by his glory, by his strength. As if reading my mind, he scooped me up like a child, pressing me close to his body. Caught by surprise, I've yelped gently upon feeling my feet leaving the solid ground, but almost immediately wrapped arms around his neck.
The world around us vanished at that moment. I no longer heard the mean snarks of the crowd, I saw no injured men, I heard no weeps of mothers and wives of those who perished. All that mattered were us. In his strong, protective arms I did not care for anything else. With a wide, beaming smile conquering my face, I've landed the softest of kisses on his forehead.
"Welcome home, Erwin."