Let's face it, Annie's a bad influence lmao.
Gabi and Falco are a mirror reflection—they stare ahead, slack jawed and unblinking. While they've seen this before and it only happens after long days of hard work, it's a stunning sight to witness.
Annie, who sits across the table, hovers over her plate where half a chicken, corn, and spinach reside. A chicken breast with deep bite marks and a giant chunk chomped out of the top is held in both Annie's hands; the missing meat fills Annie's cheeks as she chews quickly. She eats ravenously like she doesn't see any of them.
"I'd figure I'd go into town later tomorrow for a different soil," Armin who sits next to her says. His fork taps against his lip in thought, "I'm not getting the results I wanted on the tomatoes or eggplants. I think I need a soil which retains the water more."
After a large, loud swallow—her eyes fastened to her plate and food— Annie replies, "I need to go into the market early so you may as well just come with me, "Annie wipes her mouth off with the back of her hoodie's sleeve. With one quick chomp, Annie tugs another giant bite out of the chicken breast. Her cheeks are round spheres speckled with chicken skin which roll in a way Gabi almost finds hypnotic, "I promised the baker there that I'd give him that batch of the apple tarts I made earlier." Annie performs one final swallow. Those eyes which put the spirit of fear in Gabi when angry stay parked on the table, "If he likes them, he said he might take me on for...training, I guess."
"Ah, an apprenticeship!" How brightly Armin smiles motivates Gabi into joining him, "That's great, Annie! Okay, while you do that, I'll need to wait for the seed shop to open. Until then, I need to get more iron and some pliers and a vice for my workbench…" as Armin thinks out loud, Gabi observes his unconscious reflex—he picks up a napkin and carefully wipes some of the larger crumbs off Annie's cheeks. Annie must also have a reflex—she swats his hand away after he's gotten a few flecks of chicken skin off her. He smiles instead of frowns though Gabi expected he wouldn't be mad, "Then after I get all that, my workshop will be ready."
Annie gulps audibly, and Gabi shivers at the successive snap-snap-crack of her tearing off a rib to get to the grilled, meaty underside, "Not really sure what you aim to do with it. There are perfectly good blacksmiths and artisans in town to go to."
"We've got the space and it's a nice way to learn new things. Plus, my parents were blacksmiths. I remember some tricks they did. I'm sure I can pick it up." Armin's eyes blow-open wide. Realization straightens his posture, "Ah! I almost forgot! Mikasa is coming to visit soon! I need to get new bedsheets and towels too! Then I'll need to get the guest room ready. Agh, there's a lot to do..."
The snort Annie releases is short and sharp, "Let her sleep on the couch."
"…Annie."
"I know, I know. I didn't mean it. I'll play nice...if she does."
Armin sighs and with it, Annie stops eating. Circles of daunting blizzard-blue rise up to land on Gabi and Falco. They jerk in place.
"What is it?" she asks, "You guys haven't even touched your dinner yet."
"Oh, um, right…" Gabi starts, "I-I was just waiting for it to cool off."
"It was served to you five minutes ago. Just say you don't like it. I'm not going to be offended."
"I-It's not that at all!" Falco frantically reassures her, "We had some snacks earlier because we were so tired. We're just digesting a little still!"
Annie stares. Gabi is doubtful she believes them but those sharp, focused eyes are sealed away by closed eyelids—Annie shrugs. Their female guardian resumes eating and Armin extends to the children an appreciative smile. They all don't feel the need to bring up how speedily Annie eats when she's exhausted—it's just how she always was ever since they first met. Gabi thinks back to her time at home, when she trained hard and lost all sense of manners. But mother and father smiled as she ate ravenously after another tough day in the warrior unit, spoke to her like nothing was out of place. Home was a place where she could relax and be herself. Ms. Annie should have that kind of comfort too.
Gabi straightens her back. She lifts the chicken on her plate and bites out the largest chunk her mouth can hold. Falco blinks rapidly at first then parts his mouth in understanding; he follows Gabi's lead, plucks up and chomps a hole out of the chicken breast. Surprise halts Annie's chewing, glues her attention on the kids. She glances to Armin who keeps up his smile, unphased. He eats normally, doesn't question what's happening. Annie examines herself, notices how she's been eating these past few minutes.
"...why are you two eating like that?" Annie asks, sounding stunned.
"I thunk eafink thus wey ifs quikur!(I think eating this way is quicker!)" is Gabi's muffled response, "If bery guud bu fhe way! (It's very good by the way!)"
"Mi fuu! (Me too!)" Falco backs Gabi up, a hand hovering over his full mouth, "Paff the speniff and qern pleafe. (Pass the spinach and corn please)"
With the slab of a chicken hanging from her mouth, Gabi hands Falco the bowls of cooked spinach and corn resting next to her. He plops large piles of green and yellow on his plate then serves Gabi too; the young girl's nose scrunches upon sight at the spinach dropped on her dish. Armin has to resist the urge to chuckle—it's always a fight to get Gabi to eat her greens.
Annie maintains her confusion. She shifts to Armin, "...do I really look that comical when I eat?"
"Sometimes, but I don't mind. I think it's cute."
"I bet if I burped you wouldn't say it was cute."
"I'd ask you to cover your mouth and say 'excuse you' but I'd find it funny mostly. And an excuse to burp myself."
This woman he cares for swallows, sets down the ribcage of cleaned bones which once housed her cooked dinner.
Her regiment was strict while younger—at times, her body reacts like she has ten minutes to eat before training begins again. Training with the others had her learn some sense of shame and change her eating habits but Annie didn't realize the comfort of having a home had her resort to old habits...
The fork and spoon at the side of her plate catches Annie's eye. She exhales, minorly irritated, "I've always hated those things because it's slower than using my hands..."
Armin picks up his and her clean plate, "You don't have to, Annie."
"Yes, I do, because of that."
Armin follows the direction of her finger. Gabi shakes her head fervently as Falco attempts to spoon-feed her spinach. Both of their mouths are full, food flies out their mouths from muffled demands of "Fay avey! (Stay away!)" and "Meat et! (Eat it!)"; Gabi pushes up on Falco's jaw which is encumbered with food as he attempts to jab the spoon full of spinach closer to her mouth. Armin's lips twitch up—he likes it, to be honest. It reminds him of watching Mikasa...and Eren, back then.
"If she's coming, then I'll have to stop or else I'll get the evil-eye on how I'm not good enough for you and being a bad influence," Annie jabs her fork so the end aims directly at Armin's nose, "And don't you start trying to validate how I am worth it or how you aren't worthy."
Armin's eye fall—like she's caught him before he can say anything. He's quiet for some seconds until his sight rises again, "I hope you get the apprenticeship, Annie. I know you're nervous, but with your dedication, I know you'll do well."
Her strict gaze relaxes. Annie sighs, picks up her fork as her other hand reaches for the spinach bowl by a fighting Falco and Gabi.
"…I guess we'll see tomorrow. And considering all your plans, it'll be interesting to see what you make out of your workshop too."