Repent

Tumblr Prompt #71: "I've never told anyone…"

She cried sometimes; only when she was alone, hidden away from anyone who'd be able to hear her distressed sobbing. It was an embarrassment for her, Annie Leonhardt never cried. Or show weakness of any kind; but sometimes, sometimes Annie just couldn't keep the cap sealed on her emotions. Sometimes it would over flow, over-whelm her, catch her off-guard, and she'd find herself huddled under the weeping tree, angrily wiping away the tears that wouldn't go away until she let herself give in to the desolation, the trapped guilt laying underneath her cold exterior.

She hated crying, she hated it because it only left her feeling more miserable. She hated it because when she cried, she was only thinking of her father, of her home across the sea. She hated it because it proved she was not yet ready to be a warrior. It made her heart heavy, and her head hurt; her eyes would stay pink, and puffy for hours, and she'd have to lie to others about allergies acting up so they'd stay away. Girls would steer clear of her in the barracks, boys hardly would approach her, fearing they might catch something too.

Only one idiot simply refused to do that. The extremely passionate, vengeance-driven —did not know anything about volume control—Eren Jaeger. Some days, Annie would take her place under the willow tree. Far behind the 104th Camp borders; she liked her solitude, and it was easy to let go in the shadows. But then he'd show up right when she was about done spilling her feelings, screwing the cap on. If he did notice anything that certainly did not equate to the passive, and aggressive blonde that he knew; he never commented on it.

In fact, Eren never said anything to her. But he never left her alone, either. He'd just take a seat beside her; not too close, just giving the right amount of space she still needed. And they never passed a word to each other. In the beginning, Annie found him to be a nuisance, always following her around like some damned stray.

But as the days of their graduation grew nearer; she'd come to find comfort in his company. In the silence that they sat idly in under the weeping tree. She still cried, though Eren always seemed to come at the right time, when it all stopped; until one day.

She couldn't stop. She didn't know why; she just couldn't stop—the tears wouldn't end, they fell down her cheeks in burning rivulets, and she hiccupped, and she growled, and she was so, so very angry. And alone, and sad. And home-sick.

"Ugh, I…hate…" She sniffed and she coughed, wiping away at her wet cheeks with the damp cuff of her sleeve, "I hate this."

Had she heard him coming prior, she would have never let him see her in the miserable state she was in. But she hadn't, and he saw her. And still, he said nothing. But the look of pity in his glimmering green eyes made her almost want to snap his neck.

"Please, just go away…" She waved a tired hand at him, her throat felt too tight, her voice sounded so small. When he didn't move, Annie glared at him under wet lashes, "Go away, or I will hurt you."

Eren Jaeger, not one to walk away from a challenge, took a seat beside her, his usual spot. Not quite touching her, but not quite drifting from her, either. Annie glowered at him, but it proved ineffective when her eyes were rimmed in red, and her cheeks were damp, and rosy. She must have looked like a pitiful mess.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" She asked, irritably, once she was done wiping away the residue tears off her face. It took him a moment to reply, but when he did, it was something offish, and stupid.

"I don't want too."

Annie, the stoic girl, the fighter, the soon-to-be warrior, gaped at him, bewilderment washing over her features. He looked away.

"I've never told anyone," He mumbled, "By the way. It's alright, to let loose sometimes, I understand."

Annie pulled at the weeds that poked her thighs, throwing them in front of her, and watching the swirling breeze carry them away. He'd known all along.

"You can't keep everything bottled up forever, Annie."

She turned to him, smiling wistfully, "You don't know me."