Qui déballe tout = fig. Kiss and Tell

PLEASE READ ME!

I will be flagging chapters that contain romantic/sensual/sexual themes that are NSFW with a "*". This is so my readers can be aware of when something NSFW is going to be introduced in a chapter. However, I will not be disclosing more information or intensity with this marker, as to not ruin built-up suspense- it doesn't always mean sex, either, and it doesn't apply to things like violence. It will always be in the beginning notes.

So... *

March 15th, 844. Early morning.

Kisses were nothing new to her.

But this one? It was indescribable.

In her emotional fugue, Kuchel couldn't tell left from right, up from down, only able to focus on the heat of his lips searing into hers. Truly, she had no idea who made the first move to initiate the kiss– for all she knew, it could have very easily been her. Nevertheless, the truth would be lost to time, lost to decadent, intimate moments where neither cared about the catalyst.

A delicious, golden heat rose up to her delicately high cheeks as his strong, puissant hands released their hold upon her, only to settle themselves onto her hips, nearing her trim waist, and through the fog, she barely registered at the way his hands engulfed the smallest part of her figure. The softness of his touches, the way his palms held her in place, it had her mind misting in the most unfamiliar way, and made her feel as though time had screeched to a shuddering halt. Nothing else around them mattered– not the pitter-pattering of rain against the window, not the ticking of the grandfather clock, not the dripping of candle wax upon the wooden desktop.

Her instinct told her to deepen the kiss, and thus she did, her hands seemingly moving on their own to clutch at him, one set of fingers gaining purchase by wringing into the white fabric of his shirt, the other threading through his silky blond strands. Something about him was grounding her in a sturdy sense of reality, and Kuchel needed it when she felt as though she were going to float away. The irony, considering it was him threatening to send her flying.

Erwin seemed to be careful of her freshly broken nose, making sure that his own didn't knock against her as their lips dragged together in unison. His scent, his taste, his body heat– all of it had the strangest sensations floating through her body, things she'd never before felt, like a strange tugging at her core, or tingling in her extremities out of excitement. Those feelings were foreign, as was the feeling of him gingerly testing the waters, nipping her lower lip, only to swipe his tongue over the spot, as though silently apologising.

If only Kuchel had realised that the subtle moan she'd heard had come from her own throat.

She tugged him closer in response, lost in the haze of affection. It seemed as though he felt the same, his hands gripping onto her ass. Both of them had forgotten his knee pinned between her legs, making her straddle his thigh as their bodies pressed together in a rich, flushing heat. With his hands pulling her hips against him, it sent a jolt straight between her legs, making the ravenette squeak in surprise at the sensation. It didn't feel bad, per say, but it was certainly strange.

What was that?

Wait, what am I…

Her eyes snapped open, the fog parting as though the strongest winds in the Walls blew it apart. As though out of instinct, her hands snapped away from his hair and shirt, and she tore her lips away, eyes wide and wild with surprise as she panted.

He seemed to catch on quickly, pulling his hands off of her and taking his leg out from between her quivering thighs. "Kuchel? Kuchel I-"

"S-S'fine, Section Leader. I… I um… goodnight." Kuchel ducked out the door in a flurry, head hanging low, hoping he couldn't see the flush in her cheeks, and not seeing the befuddled and breathless man she left in her wake.

She hadn't even given him a chance to say goodnight.

A shower. A shower. I need to go take a fucking shower, to get this horrible, no good day scrubbed off my goddamn skin.

Careful of the bandage on her tender nose, Kuchel stepped under the dribbling spray of the showerhead, sighing at the heat. Hot showers were oh-so wonderful, and she thanked the heavens every single day that she was allowed to have them. Back in the Underground, bathing had been such a chore, with ice cold water that smelled like putrid sewer. Blegh, disgusting.

Massaging some suds into her inky hair, the confrontation with Erwin flashed through her mind again. Why had that happened? Did she actually feel something for that man, or was it just something that happened in the heat of the moment? Who had moved first?

Did he like it?

Kuchel's brow furrowed at her own thoughts, and she moved to muddle the soap out of her tresses.

What does it matter? He's probably over it by now– you should be, too.

It felt as though she'd stayed under the stream of water for hours, though it had only been a mere half an hour that she had spent washing the grit and grime of a rough expedition off of her skin. As she stood outside the shower, patting her hair dry, she couldn't help but graze her palm over her ribs, wincing at the bruising that had blossomed upon them. It was hard to believe that she'd nearly gotten eaten by one of those Titans…

It wouldn't have happened to me if Levi had told me the truth from the start.

Before she could let those thoughts run wild, the woman hurried to slip on her nightgown and brush her hair, not wanting to let her foul thoughts affect her more than they already had– Isabel and Furlan being dead was horrible enough, and more than her mind wanted to deal with. Thinking about Levi's continued lies was an entirely different matter.

As she was leaving the communal showers, making her way through the halls, the kiss running rampant through her mind, she saw Levi turn the corner. Her face brightened slightly at the sight of her baby boy, only to crumple at the way his steps faltered when he saw her, freezing in place, only to turn and hightail it back the way he came.

"Levi, wait!"

She saw his strides waver once again, as if he were torn between stopping and going, and when he kept fleeing… her heart shattered in her chest, the pieces turning to chalky dust as they hit the floor, leaving her empty, with nothing.

With no one.

Her baby, her sweet child– he hated her.

No one loved her.

Why would they? She wasn't deserving of love, didn't deserve affection, didn't deserve even the tiny morsels thrown her way. She was a banal,unlovable girl.

The only thing that she ever deserved was misery.

...

Late March, 844

Her nose was healing up nicely.

Her Ackerman genes did her right for once, and within a week of the break, the pooled up bruises beneath her eyes had faded to look as though she had been powdered with mere dark circles. Kuchel could live with appearing like she needed far more sleep, and preferred it as such. The bruising had been ghastly, so much so that it had spurred her to hole herself up in her room when she didn't have to be training.

Well, that had been one factor, of course. The other had been that she couldn't bear to face her own son. The thought of crossing his path, shamefully enough, struck fear into her. How pitiful, how disgraceful, to be afraid of her own son, whom she had nurtured in her own belly, whom she'd reared from a tiny pink bundle until he was a grown man.

Afraid of him.

Kuchel thought of herself as no better than her own mother, who had held so much distaste for her as a small child. Was she doomed to be a scornful, acrid old woman, just like Neora had been?

Sitting upon a rickety picnic table, she sipped at her stew with one hand, and used the other to pick at the peeling paint. The damn thing must have been baking in the sunlight for Walls knew how long, for however many years, and was in dire need of a makeover. Perhaps that wasn't the most pertinent thing on the Scouts' agenda, but to a woman with pestering, plaguing postulations and perceptions, it was a pleasant distraction.

There were many things around that the regiment could benefit from being fixed up: the shingles on the stables, the clankety gate that screeched when you swung it on the hinge, hell, even something as basic as the food. Alas, it was the branch allotted the least amount of funds, almost as though it were the forgotten middle child of a family, forced to live upon scraps. Oh, what could the Scouts be like if they operated in opulence?

One could only wonder.

And wonder she did. Anything to keep her mind off of her son, keep it off of the tingling still upon her lips after the kiss with her own Section Leader. Oh, for Walls' sake, Kuchel hadn't been able to make eye contact with him for over a week, it seemed.

The moment had been so heated, and even after pondering over the events, replaying them in her head over and over, the noirette couldn't seem to figure out who had been the first to move. Perhaps it had been her, perhaps it had been him– regardless, it had happened, and it couldn't be undone. Never would she be able to erase the sensation of his lips from her mind, how soft they had been, how his breath had held the faintest hint of rich whiskey, as if he'd thrown back a shot of it before she came into the room to berate him.

However, something that had been bothering her since that night in his office was that he had neglected to acknowledge it in the slightest. Kuchel had expected him to pull her to the side first thing in the morning, alas, he did no such thing. The blond man had kept to himself, going about business as usual, and something about that didn't sit quite right in her gut. Did he even care about what they'd done?

Ah, who am I kidding? It's not like I'm the first woman he's ever kissed– and I probably won't be the last. Erwin could have his pick, so no wonder he'd brush off that night as inconsequential– Neora was right. I'm banal. I'm unlovable. I always will be.

A stray tear trickled down her cheek, one she didn't even register.

But oh, how she wished things were different.

Another unnoticed droplet slipped down her nose to splash into her bowl of stew.

But why? Why did she wish things were different, damn it? She didn't fucking need a man besides her son in her life, so what was the big deal. Wiping furiously at her cheeks, swiping away any remnants of her woes as she felt frustration festering in her flesh, like needlepoints prodding her delicate skin.

The woman had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear the man himself walk up beside her, even with his heavy footsteps. Erwin had a powerful, massive physique, one that intimidated many cadets as well as Section Leaders– but she had never felt like that. Knowing the strength she held, Kuchel knew that if need be, she could take him down.

His baritone voice pierced the veil of virulently possessive thoughts buzzing in her mind.

"Kuchel, why the hell are you ignoring me?"

Without so much as casting a glance in his direction, she took another sip of her stew. "I don't know what you're talking about, Section Leader. If I were ignoring you, then I wouldn't have just answered you, would I?"

That seemed to get under his skin like a sore splinter, and it was evident in his aura and attitude that it did so. Perhaps it was the dull, blasé tone in her voice that put him off.

"Don't get smart with me, Kuchel. You haven't stopped by for chess in days, you've barely even looked my way unless I'm giving you a direct order in training sessions… you haven't even spared me as much as a hello."

"I'm not getting smart about anything." Kuchel didn't let her gaze lift yet, taking a bite of food, chewing a carrot thoughtfully before she continued. "So, you think there's something we need to discuss, then, or did your father teach you to kiss women and then never mention it again?" Her eyes finally deigned to meet his, and her teeth grit together as she awaited a reply.

Kuchel glanced down at his hands as he put them in the pockets of his long, green jacket. It was quite chilly out today, yet she still wore normal cadet attire. Cold was nothing new to her, especially after living in a place without the slightest shred of sunlight. "What do you want me to say, Kuchel? That I'm sorry? Fine, I'm sorry that it happened. I lost control of myself, got caught up in the moment, and I won't let that happen again. I didn't realize it would upset you so much, and I thought the best course of action was to act as if it hadn't happened."

"I'm sorry that it happened."

That hit her like a bullet in her poor chest, nearly rocking her back with a recoil as she stared up at him from her seat. That was the only thing she could focus on, and unknowingly, it had tears welling in her beautiful eyes, ones she figured she blinked away far too late. He must have noticed.

But did he care?

He just said that he'd 'lost control' and 'got caught up in the moment'. Maybe to him, she was exactly the way the rest of those men saw her, and oh how it hurt her darling heart to think about. It squeezed her chest tight, the grip made of stronger steel than their ODM blades. The kiss... it didn't upset her, that was what frustrated her so much- the fact was that Kuchel had liked it, and fuck, she'd be a liar if she said she didn't want more. The dark-haired woman peered up at him, eyes round and terribly, gut-wrenchingly sad, though she didn't realise just how much she resembled a broken, kicked puppy dog.

"O-Okay."

It was all she could think to say, all that came to mind.

Though, his actions were unlike those she would have expected from any other man. Concern flashed over his features, and before she knew it, Erwin was straddling the picnic bench seat beside her, reaching to gingerly tuck some hair behind her ear in a comforting manner. If only Kuchel had caught on to how he'd hesitated, if only for a moment.

"Kuchel, I… tell me what I can do to fix this?"

Her heart lurched at his touch, and Walls, it nearly ripped another sob out of her, to the point where she actually flinched away and jumped up from her seat, forgetting about the food on her tray altogether. "N-Nothing. There's nothing to fix. Nothing at all."

She needed to be alone, needed to get away from him, and the perfect opportunity arose when Hange bounced her way over to the table, wanting to ask Erwin about something pertaining to the experiments she wanted to try out. Kuchel knew well that he was too damn nice to blow Hange off, so she took her chance, darting away to her barracks.

With her hands jittering with anxiety, she unbuckled the gear from her body, tossing it haphazardly onto the empty bed that had once belonged to Isabel. The knowledge still pained her deeply, and only served to bring more tears to her darling, grey-blue eyes.

When she'd given up on the day and curled under her covers, it had been dinnertime, with the Sun still broiling in the sky. However, by the time the woman could even muster the strength to rouse herself to sit up, it was dark. The moonlight leaked through the slit in the curtains, painting luminance across the floor.

She couldn't help but stare at it for a bit, how the clouds sometimes dimmed the light, only for it to come back in full force when they parted. Some cadets walked past her door, making their way through the hall, and the image of Hange popped into her mind. In the midst of her crying, the bespectacled brunette had tried to see if she was alright, but Kuchel, being a stubborn idiot, had ignored her.

Shit, maybe she should bake Hange a pie later as an apology.

All of her emotions since returning from the expedition had become a burden that weighed on her shoulders, as though she were carrying a boulder bigger than the gates. Even with her Ackerman strength, the emotional agony that seized her since that fateful day had paralysed her in a way she couldn't seem to shake out of. Isabel and Furlan were gone forever, her son had harmed her in his rage… not to mention that he had lied to her about why they had been arrested in the first place. Who knew what other things he had told her that were lies?

Why didn't Levi trust her?

It doesn't matter anymore. He's a grown man now, he just doesn't want you interfering with his business. Let him move on from you. Let him go.

Don't make him hate you more than he already does.

It was quite late, Kuchel knew this well, but something was gnawing at her, guiding her to exit her barracks. Being clad in her nightgown and thick woolen socks, it made her all the more quiet as her feet padded over the stone floor. Eventually, she found herself staring at the grand oak barrier that separated the corridor from Erwin's office, as though it were a portal to another place and time. And as her knuckles rapped at the wood, a thought bolted through her mind.

What the hell am I doing?

Only a mere few moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a tired, sullen Section Leader Erwin, in more relaxed clothing, yet he obviously had still been awake when she knocked.

His widened eyes begged the question without a single word, as if asking her, What are you doing here, Kuchel?

She read between the lines, eyes flickering down and hands clasping in front of her modestly. "Can... Can we play chess?" It was pathetic, how raw her throat sounded from the sobbing that she had done before passing out in her bed. It embarrassed her so much that she actively wanted to avoid his gaze at first, not wanting to observe the disappointment, the curiosity, perhaps even the anger upon his features.

"Of course, Kuchel. Come on in." His hand extended to touch her shoulder welcomingly as she brushed past him, moving to settle into her normal seat for chess. Arms crossed over her chest, the dark-haired woman leaned back in her chair as he set up the pieces, hunkering down into his own chair across from her. The candelabra on his desk was alight, as were other candles around the room, and a lantern on a shelf near them had a flame lapping away at the shapely glass that encased it.

Silence overtook them for a little while, and Kuchel dared to let her gaze wander to his face, examining his features as he moved a piece. Once again, she was trying to uncover the inner mechanisms of a mind that was intangible to her. He was as mysterious as their very own existence within the Walls. Grabbing her bishop, she leaned forward in her place, eyes on the chessboard and every piece that stood upon it. "You know... In the Underground... we have a saying."

She knocked his knight over effortlessly with a move that he couldn't have seen coming, as per usual, and took it as hers, setting it into the slot allotted for all the pieces she stole from him. Poor man, he could never really beat her at this game, could he? "Men with many questions tick like clocks, like bombs– it's the gears turning in their head, you can hear them grinding and clinking as they try to approach the answers they seek to learn. You call yourself a gambling man, yet you don't ever gamble to ask me questions I can tell you want to know. I don't know what to make of that."

His gaze shot up to her, as though he were unsure of what to make of her words. Perhaps she had overstepped a boundary, or perhaps he just had no questions that he wished to ever ask her.

"I just don't want to upset you, Kuchel. Our...friendship didn't exactly start in the most normal of ways." Erwin sent her a lopsided grin, and if only Kuchel had caught the twinge of uncertainty in his voice. "I wouldn't want to ever do anything that hurts you."

Kuchel brushed some hair behind her ear, having forgotten for a moment that she had taken it down from the bun she habitually put it in for training. After he made his move, she made hers, and checkmated him. Again.

What a surprise.

"I grew up with a mother that hated my itty bitty guts. And an alcoholic father that turned a blind eye to it. I got thrown into the street to sleep if I caught a cold, as a punishment. I was a prostitute. I nearly got choked to death. I've had to kill a man who tried to hurt my son. I had to go through agony not knowing where he was. Now my son hates my fucking guts, presumably, after breaking my nose." Her eyes flickered up to meet his gaze, her expression flat. "My life's been filled with hurt. Plenty of it. More than you'd care to ever know. More than I'd trust to tell you. If you hurt me, it's not like it matters."

The fact that she had spilled such personal details about her life before coming above ground to a man that she had only known for about half a year… it nearly made her sick to her stomach, made her feel like the soup she'd eaten earlier was gurling back up her throat. However, the bile stopped in its tracks when he reached across the table, placing his large hand over hers, making her heart feel as though it had been swallowed up and gripped in a vice. Mouth dry, she observed the way his hand engulfed hers, the way it made her feel so small as he brushed his thumb over her knuckles comfortingly. Though, was feeling small such a bad thing?

"It matters to me, Kuchel. I don't want to be just another person in your life that causes you pain and suffering."

Then why did you apologize?

The onyx-haired woman peered down at his hand holding hers, and wondered why every time, without fail, it ignited a heat in her, a warmth that seeped into her core, like a blazing, midnight sun. Instead of asking the question to which she most wanted the answer, she settled on something simpler, a little safer. "Why do you care so much?" She asked, unable to meet his blue eyes, the way he watched her with something akin to affection. No wait...that wasn't possible.. It was too good for a woman like her. "Everyone who told me that ended up hurting me anyway." Her eyes brimmed with tears again, feeling the emotion welling in every pore of her. "Even my baby boy."

"I just care, Kuchel. I will do everything in my power to not hurt you, not intentionally. I assure you of that." The blond gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And Levi adores you. He'll come around, just give him a little time."

Tears rolled down her pallid cheeks, which was quite astonishing, given how much she had already cried today. How did she have any damn tears left?

"I've never gone more than a day without speaking to him, aside from when he was brought above ground. It's killing me. I just want to hug and kiss my baby, but he's distancing himself from me. He knows he doesn't need me anymore. He doesn't... he doesn't love me anymore. I knew the day would come, but I didn't think it would be so soon." Her heart was breaking in her chest again, now focused more on her son.

Why was she cursed to have everyone who actually loved her grow away from her?

Oh, right. She knew exactly why.

"I know, Kuchel, but I also think you're wrong. I think he does love you, and he's just struggling with his own insecurities, his own guilt, and possibly thinks he doesn't deserve you, thinks he hurt you in more ways than one."

"All of this is too much for my old heart to bear." Kuchel whimpered, wiping some tears off her face. "All of it. I'm considered ancient in the Underground, you know. People never live past fifty down there, and I'm forty-two, nearing forty-three. I can't fucking do this shit..." Her son, Furlan and Isabel, the kiss... it was all so overwhelming, and to top it off, her nose still hurt terribly, even if her bruises were beginning to fade.

This was fucking awful, and Walls, did she look exhausted, worn to the brittle bone.

"You don't look a day over thirty, Kuchel." Another attempt at humor to soothe her woes. "You can do this, Kuchel. I know it. It's an adjustment, but I know you're just as capable as Levi."

"... It's days like these that I wish I could get fucking drunk." She muttered, trying to ignore the blush that came with his compliment about her appearance, about her age. Did she really look that young?

Kuchel watched as he rose up from his seat, rummaging through his desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of whiskey, a fine and expensive one from the looks of it. "I'm not sure what you mean, but just because you're not able to get drunk, doesn't mean you can't enjoy a drink or two." She eyed him as he grabbed two tumblers from the same drawer, and held them up in question, in invitation.

Contemplating his offer, the noirette surveyed the glasses, and finally gave a soft nod in response. "A-Alright. I haven't had a drop of alcohol for a long time." Part of her hoped it didn't taste like shit, but the remainder of her hoped that it could take some of the nerves away.

Her section leader placed the two crystalline glasses down on the table, pouring them a finger each, before closing the bottle back up and setting it down beside the chessboard. A hum escaped him as he took the first taste, as if savouring the oaky, rich taste as he set up the chessboard once again for another round.

She, on the other hand, found no such pleasure in the taste. Kuchel took a delicate sip, and made a sour face, lips curling down in disgust. "Weugh, Walls, that's fucking abhorrent..."

He chuckled with mirthfulness at the reaction, making the first move by sending his queen's pawn up two spaces. "It's supposed to get better as you drink."

Unfortunately, for Kuchel, it didn't do much. She slammed it back, and then blinked at him. "I'm not feeling a damn thing. Was I supposed to?" Kuchel weighed less than half what he does, yet even on an empty stomach, the alcohol did jack shit. Just her luck.

He blinked back at her, seemingly puzzled at her question, at her naïvety, but shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "It affects everyone differently, so you may just have a higher tolerance than most." It was rather strange, considering her size, but perhaps it wasn't that unusual.

"Levi doesn't get drunk, either." She said, her words gentle like the soothing song of a nightingale as she pondered a move on the board. Neither did Kenny. Neither did her mother. Was it an Ackerman thing?

Little did she know that as she took her time with her move, the man across from her was replaying the day's events in his head, sipping on that decadent whiskey that he'd poured for the both of them.

…

As he took in her features, he couldn't help but notice the contrast of the calmness he now saw, to the anguish that had been present mere hours ago.

The agony riddled and carved into Kuchel's visage– it felt as though someone had ripped his heart straight out of his chest as he watched her scurry away, mentally cursing Hange for arriving at the most inopportune time during their conversation.

Nothing to fix. Nothing at all.

Had he messed up entirely by kissing her? Was it because she'd liked it and wanted more?

No...that could not have been possible...could it?

He'd never felt so inept with Marie back in the day, so why did he feel that way with Kuchel? Was it because she actually meant something to him where Marie hadn't? What did she mean to him? What did he mean to her?

He honestly had no idea, just like he had no idea what Hange had even asked him when she'd interrupted them.

Hange was watching him staring off after Kuchel's receding figure, and her hand gently came to rest upon his shoulder, and when he met her gaze, he saw the apologetic mist in her eyes. "E-Erwin, I'm so sorry I interrupted... is she okay? Would you like me to talk to her? I've never seen her so upset... what happened?"

His eyes were helpless when he glanced back at the brunette, at a loss for what to do. "I...I honestly don't know, Hange."

"Did... did something happen between you two? I won't tell anyone... I just want to help. I'm her friend... at least, I like to think I am... maybe I could ask her what's on her mind?"

How much to divulge...he wasn't sure. Kuchel was rather private, and he didn't want to anger her, or hurt her further by giving too much away. Should he tell Hange the truth? Or just ask that she talk to her?

Bringing his leg over the seat to sit normally, he rested his elbows on the table as he buried his hands in his hair, looking down at the marred wood below him. The surface was riddled with scratches, with nail marks from people picking at the peeling paint, and even some crude marking from whittling pocket knives– normally, it would piss him off to see defacement, but right now, he didn't care. "I...I don't know if I should tell you. I don't know if it's something she'd be alright with me sharing. But… but if you could talk to her, I'd appreciate it."

"Alright. Can do, big brows. Section Leader Hange is on the case." She gently patted his back, and took Kuchel's meal remnants to dispose of them before going to try to find her.

"Erwin, it's your turn."

He blinked at her, glancing back down at the board and realising that he'd been staring down at it without moving. Hastily, he moved a piece, unable to stop thinking about that damned kiss before, and how it was affecting their relationship at the moment. It was beyond him, this uncertainty. Something he'd never felt, never before experienced.

And he wasn't too sure he enjoyed this feeling of the unknown.

"I wouldn't fret too much about it– your tolerance, that is. I wouldn't say it's necessarily a bad thing. I've seen how rambunctious some soldiers can get after several drinks, so it may actually be a good thing."

Walls, he could still taste her lips, and he couldn't help but wonder how her sweetness would mesh with the rich notes of the whiskey she was nursing.

"I've wanted to experience it at least once in my life, at least getting tipsy, but I never let myself. That kind of thing in a brothel is dangerous. Besides, I don't think I can even get that." Even in the dim candlelight, he could see that the pale woman's cheeks were flushing with the slightest tint of pink as she captured an important piece. "It's already getting to your head I believe, Section Leader."

Kuchel might have been able to capture a vital piece, but she'd left her queen open for the taking, which he scooped up the opportunity with ease, capturing it with his bishop. "Perhaps it's your head it's getting to, and you just don't realize it." He poured her another finger of the golden-brown liquid, setting the bottle back down beside the chess board in its original spot. "If you'd like, you're free to try. You're safe with me, Kuchel. I assure you."

Kuchel made an amused sound, and gently took the bottle, doubling what was already in her glass and downing it all, a droplet trickling down her chin and trailing over the pale column of her throat. It disappeared down her chest, beneath her nightgown, mocking Erwin with the fact that it got to touch Kuchel's soft breast with its amber decadence. She barely noticed, it seemed, face puckering again at the taste of the liquor. "Weugh, fuck, this really tastes like shit."

When she licked her lips, the golden-haired man damn near groaned at the sight of her pink tongue swiping away the stray droplets of whiskey, wondering how it would feel across his body, on…

Get it together, Erwin. She's literally right in front of you.

In response, he chortled, taking another sip of his drink and recognising that it wasn't meant for everyone. "Perhaps if you savour it, versus chugging it like you would a canteen of water, you'd be able to make out the different tastes within your drink." Erwin did his best to ignore that droplet, though he desperately wanted to lick it away with his tongue, wondering how the taste of the spirit would meld with the taste of her porcelain skin.

"... Are you making fun of me?" She hiccuped quietly, licking some residual whiskey off her lips. "I don't take kindly to that, Mr. Smith. How rude, to tease a lady~"

He gave what could potentially have passed as a flirtatious smile over his glass before downing the rest of its contents, the Adam's apple in his thick, masculine neck bobbing with each swallow. Pouring himself another glass, he lifted a brow at her in amusement. "Come now, Miss Kuchel, what would I possibly gain from toying with you like that?" His eyes twinkled with a teasing light, completely contradicting his words.

Kuchel had really done herself in, and another hiccup wracked her frame. It seemed as though her spirits were lifting, as though she didn't feel the need to be so on guard. A giggle slipped past her lips, with a genuine smile on her face. One of those hadn't been seen by him, nor anyone else, in days, and she still looked beautiful, even with the bruising under her eyes from the broken nose. "Not sure, but I'm not sure about a lot of the things you do~"

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of her laugh, the sight of her smile, at how radiant she looked with the lantern light glowing around her. Something clicked within him, a lock unlocking one could say, one of many surrounding his closely guarded heart, of which he himself was unaware.. Erwin didn't even feel the enamoured grin that had filled his face as he took her in. "Like what? Share a bit of what rolls around in that pretty head of yours."

The inky-haired beauty poured a bit more whiskey in her glass, holding it with two hands, as to not drop it while she got up from her chair. It almost seemed as though she were swaying her slender hips a little as she made her way around his office in the dim light, white-socked, small feet padding across the nice carpet and wooden floors as she piddled along. He couldn't help but admire her as she shook her head, cheeks flushed a deep red. "O-Oh no, nothing in my head is pretty or interesting. I don't even know what I'd say."

Erwin laughed a little at the way she wandered aimlessly around his office, though he was truly mesmerized by the movement of her hips, the way the nightgown shifted around her. Shaking his head, he forced his gaze back up to her head. "Now that's certainly not true, dear Kuchel. Your head is very pretty, and full of boundless and intriguing thoughts." He propped his head up with his hand, his elbow relaxing atop the table as he appreciated the sight before him.

Holding the glass still with both of her hands, she took another sip, her eyes fluttering as she took in the taste. Oh, this woman truly had no clue just how pulchritudinous she was, did she?

The section leader watched as Kuchel's narrow nose wrinkled a bit, but she relaxed soon after, and for a moment, as she walked, her back was to him, allowing him to see how her black hair cascaded all the way to the small of her back, grazing the beginning of her derriere that looked oh-so nice and toned from all the training they did. She giggled again, her voice like a bell that dragged his attention back to her face. "Oh stop it... What do you want to know? I'm blanking on things to say, Mr. Smith~" She hummed, swaying slightly on her feet.

He allowed her question to roll around in his head, the sound of her delightful voice ringing in it as he took in the way her hair shined in the light, looking somehow dark, with the faintest hint of blue, he swore. "Tell me one thing you'd like to do, a dream of yours perhaps."

Everyone had a dream, something to keep them going– Erwin had his own, and he was curious to know what hers was.

The dainty woman took another sip, trying to ponder his question in what appeared to be her tipsy-haze, and after a long moment, she murmured with a tacit tone, "I don't think I've ever had the time to consider one, Section Leader." It's a moment of sobriety, where she's intensely clear about that, she knows. What in the world kind of dream would a woman like her have?

It saddened him to hear that, and he wished he knew more to do to help. "Is there perhaps something you wished for as a child? A young woman?" After hearing more about her past, even just the smallest skimming of the surface, he was a touch nervous at bringing it up. However, he was curious to know more about her, about her daring hopes, her darling wishes, and her ambitious dreams.

The words that came from her rosy lips next nearly broke his heart in his broad chest.

"I dreamt someday that someone would love me."

Oh how it pained him to think that she would have had such a dream, that she would have felt so unloved that her dream was to feel loved.

No person deserved that.

"I'm sorry, Kuchel. If it's any consolation, that's something you deserve."

She shrugged gingerly, setting her glass down and sitting back on his desk, not really caring that she was sort of sitting on paper work. To be fair, he didn't give a shit, either. "Some things aren't meant to be, Section Leader. That's okay. I've got plenty of love in my heart to give, and I give it all to my son... To try to forget what I miss."

He felt another lock click open, such an odd sensation that he wasn't sure what it meant. Erwin acquiesced to his feelings, raising his glass to her in a toast. "Here's to you finding what you deserve, to finding love, someone to love and love you back." Why did he suddenly want to be that person? Walls, he didn't understand what was happening to him. This was completely different to anything he'd felt for Marie…

Or perhaps, for Marie, he'd felt nothing at all?

Erwin watched as the woman stood back up, coming over and gently clinking her glass to his, with a sad, tipsy smile crossing her features. "That's something I can drink to, I guess..."

She looked like the sweetest of sad puppy dogs as the whiskey slipped past her peachy lips, the expression on her face making him want to scoop her up and take her away from this hell.

But that was hardly realistic.

"Alright, Kuchel, it's only fair for me to tell you something in return. What would you like to know?"

She traced her finger over the brim of the wine glass, and Erwin could almost hear the gears turning in her head. Finally, she inquired, her tone almost cautious, "What were you thinking when we kissed? Did… did you like it?"

His eyes widened at the question. Why did she want to know? Reaching for her hand, he linked their fingers together, noting that her digits were nice and toasty warm with all of that whiskey warming up her blood.

"If I'm being completely honest," Erwin lulled ever-so-softly, the drinks loosening his lips, hazing his memory. "I lost the capability of thinking the moment our lips met." Rising to his feet, he set his glass down so he could cup her face with his now free hand, tracing her delicate lips with his calloused thumb, the memory of how it had felt to kiss her vivid in his mind. "It felt…right, perfect... like something I'd wanted to do for a long time."

"I-I felt the same way, Section Leader... I... I wish I hadn't run away... I wish I'd stayed and kissed you again..." Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks a dusty rouge as she peered up at him. Kuchel was breathtaking, ethereal, and he wondered how anyone could be so utterly beautiful.

He gazed down at her, and couldn't resist leaning down ever-so-slightly. "And what would you say, Kuchel, if I said I wanted to kiss you again?" He was so close he could see the grey flecks in her eyes that had deepened in colour, could feel her breaths fluttering across his lips, and the urge to close the distance was intense, needing to kiss her again.

"I-I'd say I'm at your mercy, Erwin." She whispered, her breath hitching softly, the scent of whiskey heavy on her peachy lips that glistened with that amber decadence. "That I wouldn't protest..."

Taking her words as permission, Erwin closed the distance, grazing his lips across hers, his hands moving to rest on her slender hips, pulling her close against him. Walls, it was intoxicating to feel her lips on his, to feel her body flush up against his. He could feel the way her breasts shifted against his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close, and a shiver coursed through him when her fingers brushed against the back of his neck.

The ravenette sighed in a blissful way against his supple lips. Little did Erwin know that never before had a man kissed her with such care, such pure want, such consideration, and it was making her want more of him. One of her hands went to run through his hair, the crescent curve of her nails tracing across his scalp, while the other cupped his strong cheek, her dainty thumb brushing over the spot. Erwin swore that her touch left golden heat in its wake. Adorable was the way that the woman stood up on her tip-toes, as though she were trying to get more of a taste of him, to deepen the kiss further in fervour.

He let his tongue slip past her lips to meet hers, exploring her mouth, savouring in the taste of her combined with the delightful whiskey. He wasn't sure how, but the kiss somehow grew more heated as he guided her to his desk, plucking her up with ease and setting her back down to rest on the desk, not giving a shit about the paperwork. Erwin needed her closer, his hands gripping tight into her ass, dragging her up against him as he devoured her mouth, the taste of her ensnaring him into her web, and oh what a place to be. Her deliciously delicate sighs had his head spinning, his blood running hot, and he wanted more, demanding more from her.

Kuchel didn't bat an eye to being picked up, or being put on his desk, slipping her tongue back against his. The moan that resonated from her lips had his blood running hot, the sound so loud in such a quiet room, filled with old books. Kuchel's delicate hands traced down his back, and one came to his chest, feeling his toned muscles beneath the pads of her nimble fingers. He didn't want it to stop, ever– whatever touch she wanted to give him, he'd accept gladly.

Erwin ripped his mouth from hers to drag it against her jaw, down her neck, brushing his lips against that sensitive little spot, drawing the most delightful of shivers from her. Her muted moans had his blood beginning to rush south, such an odd reaction over a kiss, but then again, everything with her was different. On a whim, he let his tongue slip along the path the drop of whiskey had taken, intrigued to find that the taste of her mixed with the liquor was the most glorious thing he'd ever had.

"O-Oh Erwin..." Her mewl couldn't be held back for the world, her thighs gently locking around his hips as she let him kiss wherever his heart desired. A hiccup escaped her again, and he only paused for a brief spell before continuing to line up kisses upon her skin wherever he saw fit.

The sound of his name falling from her lips in that way had his head spinning, a groan escaping him as he dragged his mouth back to hers to ravage it once again. Her slim legs wrapped around his hips was the most enticing sensation, and he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have those same legs, only bare this time, wrapped around him as he drove into her. The image of her splayed out beneath him had his blood running even hotter, his pants tightening at the mere thought of it, the image of her moaning and writhing beneath him as he took her up and over the edge as many times as he pleased.

The woman pulled him closer, and before Erwin could do so much as break away to gauge her thoughts, her hand was trailing down his front, snaking dangerously closely to cup him over his pants. His breath hitched, the idea and almost-reality of her soft, precious hands being in such delicate places had his heart racing, fighting against the urge to buck up closer into her touch, needy for more, desperate for more.

But before she could make it past his belt, a crack of thunder made her jump out of her skin.

"Eep!" The dark-haired cadet broke away, eyes wide and wild. Her hair was a bit tousled up, too, but she didn't seem to know that.

He wasn't sure which was ringing louder in his ears, the pounding of his heart or the pounding of the rain. He had no idea when the rain had begun to patter against the rooftop, but he could hear it now– barely– against the roaring in his head. Her hand was still poised just above his belt, so close to where he needed her, and yet all he could do was stare down at her, taking in her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, the hair that was now mussed up. She looked gorgeous, ethereal, beyond seductive, and he had no idea what to say or do, his hands still clutching her hips.

After catching her breath, she couldn't help but laugh softly, retracting her hand to gently touch her lips. It was a thoughtful way, her finger pads tracing over the curved bow of where he'd kissed her. Eyes flickering to the clock, even a tipsy woman could tell that it was very late in the night. "P-Perhaps... Perhaps I should let you sleep, Section Leader. I've distracted you for far too long with my silly sentiments..."

He took a step back to give her some space, completely out of his depths with her. "As you wish, Miss Kuchel, though your sentiments are far from silly. Should you ever need a friendly ear, you know where to find me."

Had the kiss meant anything to her?

Had it meant the same for her as it did for him?

The woman quietly slipped off his desk, and, with a moment of hesitation, she hooked her finger into his bolo tie, pulling him down gently to press another kiss to his lips. "Of course I do... goodnight, Mr. Smith... I'll see you in the morning." With that, she released him, walking to his door and exiting quietly, unaware of the way he watched after her.

There was no way for her to know that he wished she could stay the whole night.

This chapter was very hard to get out as well. I think school is really starting to wear me down, but thanks to StarlitScarlet's help, it got done. Please, if you haven't already, check out her series, Of Sins and Devils. It's the best thing I've ever read, and she deserves more attention than she gets.

Song Award goes to Savages by Marina (formerly Marina and the Diamonds). This song is Kuchel, tbh, through and through.

I don't usually say this, but... tell me what you're thinkin', if you'd like 3