Shadows.
Echoes.
That's all he felt, walking through that cemetery. A mausoleum where hope and faith both lay dormant. He let his feet drag behind him as he crunched through the frost laden grass, the glisten of the morning chill reflecting sunlight off of headstones and into his face.
He squinted a bit but continued forward down the row of buried tombs and resting souls before coming to a stop just atop a small perch. The path diverted into a series of grid-like walkways, each containing what seemed to be endless apparitions of days past. He hung his head low, mindlessly pacing towards the third row of graves. He didn't even have to look up to know where to find it. His feet succumbed to muscle memory while his mind wandered aimlessly; nowhere in particular, he just let it go free. He was pretty good at that, or at least that's what she would tell him.
Upon reaching his destination his head perked up and visibly lightened, like a weight being lifted off the nape of his neck. He stepped closer to the smooth, curved granite, running his hand across its cold surface. The ice speckled dew collected on the tips of his fingers, leaving a trail of clear droplets behind, lining the edge of the grayish stone. They began to drip over the lip of the structure and fall gracefully into the divots and curves of the letter engraving etched so carefully into the rock.
He trailed the letters of her name, engraved deep, etched permanently into the stone.
BELOVED DAUGHTER,
CHERISHED SISTER,
WARRIOR
COMRADE
"Hey Sash."
His voice was flat and yet somehow warm, as if he'd harnessed the power of the sun through his grief-stricken vocal cords.
"I brought tea and a breakfast roll. I know you'd eat it all before I'd have a chance to split it, so I'm gonna do exactly that. Eat it all." He said. His tone was conversational. Intentional.
It had been about a month since the Survey Corps had returned from Marley. Connie was trying so hard to be happy that they were home, but even here; with his loved ones and comrades, it didn't feel like home.
He hadn't been back to see her since the burial plot was filled, but not for lack of trying. Every time he drew near to this place he was racked with guilt and grief, crushed with an all-encompassing sadness he'd never felt before. It filled his brain with confusion. He'd lost everything before her. His family, his home, countless teammates and yet this…this stung the more than the combined weight of his previous suffering.
Perhaps it was because through all that loss, he had Sasha to lean on. Though unintentional, her presence gave Connie Springer a purpose, and without that he was lost. He was alone.
And yet, the cloud of gloom lifted as he finally settled in front of her. He removed his Survey Corp issued trench coat and laid it flat on the ground beneath him before plopping down on it with the most ungraceful charm. Such was the Connie way.
He slurped his tea unceremoniously and ravenously bit into the breakfast roll.
"You know…" he managed to say in-between lip-smacking bites. "I've been eating a lot more lately. I'd like to think it's because I'm getting stronger and I need more nourishment for this hot bod but I'm almost certain it's because I don't have a certain someone hounding me for the rest of my meal every day." He said, simultaneously stuffing his face with mouthfuls of the delectably sweet new breakfast rolls he found in the mess hall.
He washed down a bite with a large gulp of his tea before clearing his throat. "Everything is so crazy now; I've barely had time to think."
He imagined her scoffing, questioning whether he thinks about anything at all.
"Yeah, yeah get it out." He retorted to himself. "I'm serious though, everything's a big ol' mess. Armin and Mikasa are completely out of whack, Jean can't seem to keep his temper down…" he paused, almost as if she'd interrupted him. "Ha. Yeah Sash, it does sound like he's taken a page out of Eren's notebook." His face hardened. "The Eren we knew at least."
"The guy we brought home is sitting in a cell below the barracks. I'm telling you, Sash that's not Eren. Not anymore. Something is off about him and I can't figure out what it is. I wish we had your instincts, maybe then we could have some insight as to what his true intentions are but none of us can get a read on him. No one's even gone down to see him except for Hange. I know, not even Mikasa! Crazy right!" he stopped again. He craned his neck towards the sky, basking in the sun's warm, effervescent glow, its rays pirouetting around his cheeks.
"Crazy." He chuckled sadly. "I guess I'm a little crazy too, sitting here talking to a big rock. A rock whose appetite is still probably larger than mine." He admitted as he took another bite out of his sweet roll.
"Dammit Sasha, these are so good. I wish you could try these, Nicolo made them especially for us, saying it'll keep us full throughout the day." His face turned a fair tinge of green and his heart sank. "Actually, he made them for you. We just happened to be the ones to get the leftovers."
Connie sat in silence for a moment as the truth caught up with him. He felt his cheeks constrict and his throat follow suit, his eyes clamped shut to stop the onslaught of tears he'd soon face.
"Nicolo was here too that day. He risked his life to come say goodbye to you. At first, we thought he was bonkers for charging through the cemetery like that but we realized he was heartbroken just like us. That's what you do to people Sasha. You have such a profound effect on everyone you meet. You bring out the best in them and you don't even know that you do it." He choked down a sob. "…or did it. And yes, I know what profound means! I think."
"Anyways, you did a number on Nicolo. From what Kaya said, it sounded like she thought you two were...ya know, together or somethin'."
He couldn't hold his tears in any longer, succumbing to the rivulets of pure sorrow layering his face.
"Regardless of whether that was true or not, he was so into you, it's not even funny. I could see it on his face: the thought of never getting to see you again. I know because his expression was the same as mine. I can't blame him though; I mean what's not to love about you? I just wish I got the chance to-." He stopped himself. Now wasn't the right time, not for him and especially not for her. Or so he thought.
"You know it's funny." He managed to say through cascades of weeping, silent cries. "He asked me what I felt about it and I looked him dead in the eye and said 'she was like my twin.' I panicked okay?"
"God I'm sorry, Sasha. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to know him."
He laughed in futility.
"I'm sorry we couldn't bring you home. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry I didn't jump in front of the fucking bullet. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." He gritted through his teeth. He whispered a scream but cut himself off almost immediately, slamming his fists into the ground. He clenched handfuls of grass, ripping them clean from the soil beneath which these restful souls slept. He threw them with a flail and leaned forward, catching his head in his hands.
"Come on, Con pull it together! She'd tell you to quit snivelin' and keep going." He tried to persuade himself. He was right. She'd tell him to shut the hell up and keep moving. He knew he had to, but god he didn't want to. "Alright. I'm up, I'm up." He tried to convince himself.
He stood up draping his coat over his shoulders and staring intently at his last bite of bread.
He heard the sound of rustling leaves and the pitter patter of movement in the immediate distance. Just then, he looked over to his left and there stood a small, brown squirrel scurrying about the grass. His eyes grew wide and he froze for a moment. Standing up straight, he beamed a smile that he hadn't given himself in ages. Connie took the last bite of his breakfast roll and ripped it in two with haste, crumbs falling to the ground like snowflakes in the winter. He stepped forward towards the surface of her headstone and placed one half of the baked dough on top of the smooth granite.
As if on cue, the squirrel scampered around his boot and darted up the headstone, snatching the bread with a force he'd only ever seen in but one other creature.
The squirrel perched itself atop the stone and gazed at him intently before burrowing its face into the bread.
Connie kept smiling.
"I knew you wouldn't let me finish that alone."
He buttoned up his coat and finished the last few sips of his tea before letting the tin cup dangle between his fingers.
"I'll see you soon, dork."
It was dark now. The sun had long since retired from its position amongst the horizon and Trost had quieted to the peaceful, muffled disquiet of small-scale night life; a stark contrast to the events that have taken place over the course of the past month. Connie lay still on the roof of the barracks, each stone tile etching sharp corners and jagged lines into his back. He couldn't sleep.
This is where she snuck out to meet him, taking whatever leftovers he'd brought her from their meals throughout the day. She was always one for a midnight snack.
A light wind trailed through the roof shingles weaving intricate designs into his body as it danced around him. The temperature was dropping as it usually did in the absence of daylight, but it didn't seem to bother him. Ragako was the same way. Colder even, out in the vast rural plains within Wall Maria.
His eyes showed no sign of life, but alive they were, gazing into the clear starlight above him. Truthfully, he really had gotten pretty good at emptying his mind. At first, he thought he was just stupid, but he soon came to realize that it's his coping mechanism. It was a way to compartmentalize all the trauma he's had to endure throughout the past decade. Sometimes though, he wished it really was just stupidity.
As adept as he was at keeping his head clear, it'd been aggravatingly difficult to maintain as of late. He knew exactly why, but he didn't know how best to mitigate the intrusion of his peace. Thoughts of her invaded his neural pathways, each one equipped with a full assault of beautiful, painful memories.
Her tender smile. The way her eyes would harden whenever she was determined. Those tendrils of silky auburn hair that so delicately framed her face. Her unusually high sense of danger. How the hell were they gonna anticipate enemies from miles away now?
"It should've been me. I miss you so damn much." He mumbled to himself.
"Oh, give it a rest already, it's not like I was about to sit there and let you get shot either."
Connie jumped, perceptibly startled. His heart leapt out of his chest and his head swiveled around in a frantic panic. "What? Who said that?!" he exclaimed. His eyes darted back and forth.
Nothing.
No one else had come up to the roof. He surmised that perhaps it was Jean coming to check on him, but there's no way Jean's voice sounded like that. That voice sounded like-
"Plus, it's not like anyone really had a say in the matter." The voice said matter-of-factly. There was a strange echo trailing behind it, like it was speaking through a large metal pipe reverberating through an expansive valley of sound.
Connie was visibly frazzled. He didn't know whether to be scared, confused, or concerned for his sanity.
"Yup, that's it I've finally lost it." He spoke shakily, failing to throttle a crazed laugh devoid of humor.
"You never really had 'it', honestly. But I loved that about you. Simple pleasures and all that." The voice alleged playfully.
Connie rubbed his eyes furiously and looked around once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person behind the voice he heard. It sounded strangely familiar, but he didn't want to admit whose it was.
He knew, though.
He just didn't want to confirm that he really was losing his mind.
He sat up and took a breath. His arms draped across his knees and he lowered his head into the space created between his elbows. "Man, I didn't think it'd be like this." He muttered.
Silence washed over the roof of the barracks again as he sat there pensively. He surmised that his brain was playing tricks on him. Some cruel way of punishing him for being unable to move forward. His grief overcame him and this was the price.
"What does it matter now. She's gone anyway." He continued to talk out loud as if someone else lay atop the roof with him.
"Mmm, pretty sure I'm sitting right here." The voice contradicted.
Connie didn't look up. He knew he'd see nothing when the moment craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of the origin point of this voice that haunted him. He was afraid. He couldn't handle looking up and seeing an empty rooftop.
"You're not her. You're just a figment of my idiot brain trying to harass me into moving on." He replied astutely.
The voice scoffed.
"Oh, sound observation there, Con. You're definitely an idiot, that part's right at least!" It laughed. An airy, animated laugh that twisted through the air and funneled deep into his ear canals.
It felt so genuine.
So real.
That contagious, jubilant hum laced with enveloping joy and snickering mischief. He longed to be hypnotized by it again, desperately trying to grip the rungs of this memory and grab hold onto it forever.
He submitted and looked up, peering towards the ledge of the roof, where the lip of the building lay as a sturdy support.
"Huh!?" he shouted.
Instantly his mouth fell agape, jaw scraping against the floor as it dangled in disbelief. Wide eyed, and tingly all over, he could hardly breathe. He felt as though millions of tiny needles shot up through his toes puncturing every pore in his body. His lungs constricted and the hairs on the back of his neck shot up like hot springs as he gazed towards the edge of the stone edifice.
There she sat.
Cross legged and inquisitive, her glimmering russet brown irises scorched holes into Connie's very existence. Her ponytail fell to the side casting shimmery chestnut hair over the collar of her shirt, leaving the patented "Sasha Strands" lining either edge of her cheeks. Her smile was widespread and confident, beaming as if she'd hit the same bullseye with two arrows. She dawned the Survey Corp cloak, a sparkling aura emanating off the green cloth, a white button-down blouse, and boots that still had mud caked on them from the years of wear and tear.
He blinked rapidly, trying to convince himself not to digest this false reality and yet her ominous presence never dissipated.
"This isn't happening, none of this is real. I'm dreaming." His voice was erratic, seeping with denial.
"S-Sasha?" He stuttered. His eyes finally met hers and he felt a rush of warmth. The color that had drained from his face had since returned and burst to life like a rainbow in the dark.
"Duh! In the flesh! Well…sort of. I dunno this shit's weird for me too." She poked her arm, testing her tangibility. "My voice sounds cool though." She responded before proceeding to test her echo.
"Hellooooo." She bellowed. "Neat!" Her voice chorused through the midnight air, slowly repeating itself against a slow and steady fadeout.
He was still in shock, unable to process the inexplicable events unfolding around him. It seemed as though the earth stood still. His pupils were fully dilated and he felt his eyes burn from straining them. He felt the nervous twitch he used to get as a kid begin to claw its way back into existence, causing a series of jarring movements underneath the lower half of his left eyelid.
"This has got to be some weird trauma response or something. Like that thing Armin was talking about. Psychocologism or something." He reasoned.
She laughed again. It was sweet and thick, laden with a sympathetic pity. He could taste it.
"You mean psychology?" Her tone was condescending and smug.
"That settles it. The Sasha I knew was an idiot too, you're not her." He stated firmly, though he only half believed it.
"I hung out with Armin too ya know! I'm allowed to be smart! Especially now! Check this out I can float too!"
As she spoke her cross-legged figure began to levitate off the ledge of the rooftop, gliding toward him, slowly and in a damn near perfectly fluid motion.
As she hovered closer, Connie's gaze finally met her own, her facial features coming into focus. Her eyes danced in the moonlight, serenading his own golden orbs. They sent him into somewhat of a trance. It'd been less than a full month and yet it felt like he forgot what her stare felt like. He refamiliarized himself with the sensation, the subtle yet intense glare she gave him sent chills down his spine. He felt his heart skip, just like it used to when she walked into a room, or he'd come to find her napping in the common area, potato in hand.
He finally relented, internally waving his white flag in defeat.
Better to indulge this weird inner monologue in the form of her apparition than repress it.
"Well, that is pretty cool. I'll give you that. How the hell are you doing that?" He mused.
"I honestly don't really know." She replied.
"What!? What do you mean you don't know? You're telling me you just said hey 'lemme not be dead and poof'!?" He waved his arms emphatically. "Here I am!"
Sasha quizzically tapped her finger against the underside of her lower lip, the rest of her hand resting on her chin.
"I mean I guess so. It was like I was in this weird dream, kind of like sleep but like there really wasn't much of anything. There were pockets where I'd have dreams of you guys or like dreams of really weird stuff but I never remember most of them. I remember eating this thing called a…" She thought for a moment before resuming. "Uh… cheeseburger? I think that is what they're called. Anyway, yeah, I remember chowin' down on that and then the next thing I know it was all pitch black but I heard your voice!
I tried to follow my ear and then all of the sudden I was on this really high rock boulder eating a sweet roll! And then like seconds later, I found myself on the roof of the building next to the barracks. I was doing this weird floaty thing, see?!"
Connie's head was spinning.
"I don't understand! What is a... cheeseburger!? How are you floating? My head hurts." He said, visibly flustered. He was elated to hear her talk. He ached for her voice, but he couldn't help but think this was just his way of grieving.
"Me neither! That cheeseburger was really good though. I was looking around seeing if I had dropped it or something but I couldn't find it, but upon my search, I saw you lying down up here. I floated over and just kinda watched for a minute while you sat there brooding and moody like Eren."
She chuckled.
"It's kinda funny." She admitted, attempting to mimic his facial expression from earlier. "Merr…I sad!" she laughed again.
Connie just stared at her. He couldn't look away for so many reasons, but there was only one that stuck out in his head. He missed her.
Silence took the stage once more. Coming to terms with whatever was happening seemed more difficult as each second passed. Connie didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand he was ecstatic that the most important person in his life was floating in front of him, and yet the other hand presented a far more troubling realization: none of this is real.
Conflicted, he did the only thing he thought to do.
He laughed too.
He laughed to remember what it was like to laugh with her.
He laughed to forget that he'd wake up without her again.
He laughed because he truly didn't know what else to do.
"Hey." He began. "No matter how sad I am, I'll NEVER be able to achieve Eren's mastery of broodiness."
"You know, he's the real moron." She added. "Leaving Armin and Mikasa like that is quite possibly the biggest bonehead decision ever made. Poor Mik, why'd she have to go and fall for that grumpy doofus?" She asked rhetorically.
"I bet Jean's stoked at least." Connie quipped.
They laughed together.
Just like they used to.
Sasha released a sudden sigh, huffing a deep breath.
"So." She paused deliberately. "You told Nicolo that you and I were like twins, huh?" Her echoed, spectral voice inquired. Her tenor was somber, almost melancholy.
Connie's face toughened once again as he felt his throat go numb.
"What the hell was I supposed to say?" His voice came out hoarse and barely audible. "Ah sorry man, yeah you know, I just lost my best friend, my literal reason for waking up every morning. You know, the same one whom you clearly had feelings for as well, and now it doesn't fucking matter because oh? What? Yeah she's dead." He managed to say more clearly.
Heaving a lengthy groan, he continued.
"I didn't want to make it any harder for him." He hesitated. "It was bad enough, him risking his neck to just come see you, I just…I just couldn't make it worse by adding to his stress."
Sasha was quiet. Her eyes were wide, stretched as far open as they could go, and her mouth trembled slightly as if she was trying to speak but her teeth were tied shut.
"I see." she managed to stutter.
Connie cracked a small, shy smile. "You have no idea how many lives you touched, Sash." He sounded so endearing. "See so many people at your funeral. Seeing your family. Your friends. Us. Seeing Nicolo's reactions every time you ate his food, I saw the way he looked at you, and couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't stop thinking about how lucky we were to have you in our life." The sulking farm boy explained.
Sasha remained quiet as she stared at him pensively.
Seconds turned into eternity as Connie waited for her to respond. She didn't. He knew he had to say something. Real or not, this was his chance to finally get this off his chest.
"I did tell him something else though. I told him I'd lost the other half of myself when I lost you." He gulped, swallowing hard. He felt a lump manifest in his throat and his nose began to wrinkle. "You completed me. But now that you're gone, I'm no longer whole. It's all true." He tried to hold back his quivering lip, but his emotions continued to get the better of him.
"Mr. Nicolo sure did know how to make a gal happy!" She said gleefully, desperately trying to change the subject.
That one stung. He felt his heart tear at the seams. In that moment, he really hoped this was all in his head and that her painfully obvious attempt to dodge the conversation was just part of the farce. What did it matter, anyway? She was gone and there was no point in fretting about it now. Still though, he pined for her reciprocation.
He hung his head between his knees and elbows again, accepting his downfall.
"I'm so broken without you, Sash." His word carried softly, muted lightly through the extremities that blocked their path.
Rivulets of wet submission began to slide down his cheeks. He brought his hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in-between his thumb and index finger. He felt his tears pooling onto the back of his free hand which lay suspended right underneath his chin.
"Bullshit." She retorted. "You're all great with or without me. I'm grateful to see how many of you cared for me, really, I am, but you guys are gonna be just fine. And you'll have more food 'cause I won't steal it all!" She pondered for a moment. "…At least until I figure out how to anyway." She added, poking her cheek, again testing the physicality of her flesh.
Connie frowned.
"Sasha, how can you say that? You brought out the best in all of us." He was almost in full uproar.
Sasha's face fell considerably. Sadness seeped into her body.
"I was careless, I let my guard down for one second and I knew I shouldn't have. I should've sensed it. I should've seen it coming and that's on me."
"No." His expression softened.
"I saw them too. I saw them sitting there, that barrel pointed in your direction. I should've jumped in the way. I just…I just wasn't quick enough."
She looked at him, dumbfounded.
"What the hell do you mean? That you were too slow to jump in front of a bullet? No shit, hollow brain, of course you were too slow but that's not your fault! Bullets don't ask or wait for people to jump in the way. God you're an idiot."
Connie relaxed. Listening to her particularly dry brand of sarcasm brought him a brief bout of serenity.
"Yeah. I am." He smiled again. "But you are too for thinking we'll be fine without you. Nothing's the same. Even eating sucks."
"You take that back!" she yelled. "You will not tarnish the divinity of nourishment in my presence, mortal!" She returned his grin.
"Wait, you're immortal now?" he joked.
"I dunno, but I'm here right? So, roll with it, dude!" she jabbed his arm with her mystical elbow.
"Ow! What the hell that actually hurt!" he huffed. "Guess you don't really need to eat then." He spat, amused at the ghastly look he elicited from her.
"You're asking for a knuckle sandwich; I'll make you eat the whole thing, how about that!" She mocked, her hands flying up into ready position, fists balled and taut.
He matched her stance.
"Bring it on, potato girl!"
They burst into fits of hilarity once again. He'd completely forgotten about the fact that this could be a figment of his imagination, but he didn't care. He was reunited with her in at least some capacity and he vowed to himself not squander any time he had left with her.
Moments passed and their laughter receded. Sasha turned her gaze towards him. The way she watched him made Connie think he saw right through her. Her scintillating bronze eyes were opaque in contrast of their expression, as though lifeless eyes were being perpetually resuscitated.
"But seriously. You'll be fine!" She emphasized the word 'fine' adding a sing-song rhythm to the word. The cadence of the way she crooned rang through his whole body, making him feel as though he were levitating right next to her.
"You've been through so much, and you're gonna be okay now too." She reassured.
"Easy for you to say. Your best friend didn't bleed out in your arms." He said. His voice was dull and devoid of emotion. "You didn't lose the love of your life in a matter of a few seconds."
Tears trickled down his face, again. Seems he's got plenty to spare.
He tilted his head back up and instantly locked eyes with her. Her expression was a blend of shock and fatigued confusion. Unable to decipher it, Connie silently begged her to say something.
"I did." She confessed.
His chest thumped. He felt his heart distribute that sour pang of jealousy brewing inside of it, sending it raging through every vein in his body. Not far behind, the familiar disgust of towards feeling jealous at a time like this soon comingled within his bloodstream. He tried to convince himself this was the closure he needed. He wanted to know and now he knew. This would make it easier to keep moving forward.
Connie took a labored breath. He wiped his tears with his fist, leaving it there supporting his cheek as he leaned his head into his knuckles.
"Ah yeah. I'm sorry, I should've realized that Nicolo was-"
He was interrupted abruptly, unable to finish his thought.
Without warning, he felt a cool, palpitating touch encapsulate his wrist. It pulsated against his bones. It felt like the ocean waves crashing against him in a constant flux. He looked up, his vision blurred with tears and the close proximity of his hand, but he saw her sitting in front of him; her hand gently wrapped around his wrist. He felt a prickly sensation bloom throughout his skin where she held him.
He could feel her.
How was this possible? He felt her caress as though she was truly sitting directly in front of him. How was any of this happening? The confusion gnawed ravenously at Connie's mind as he fell further into his emptiness, his eyes scrunched securely shut.
Sasha finally spoke.
"You really are an absolute idiot." She choked out. Her voice was breaking, and she looked as though she was on the verge of her own collapse. She sniffled, her breath wavering as she leaned her head closer towards him.
Before Connie could react or respond she brought her lips up to the back of the hand that rested against his face and tenderly brushed her lips against the curve of his wrist. He tensed upon receiving such contact. Her touch was warm this time, soft and smooth as silk. It felt strange, as though sparks of lightning sprang from the soft caress of her mouth against his skin.
His tension eased. Something about this peculiar transfer of energy gave him a sort of fleeting comfort. A sense of calm and a twinge of excitement hit his body simultaneously. He felt alive.
And contrary to his counterpart, he was alive.
He moved his hand from his face and let his head fall forward.
Their gazes met once again. A stare of both ice and fire, evaporating each other into a misty steam of mixed signals and wildly rampant emotions. Their collective vision has faded out every noticeable feature in their proximity save for the two of them.
"You were my other half too." She whispered, glancing toward the cold stone tiles that layered the rooftop floor. "Dingus."
He gawked at her like she would gawk at ham steak. He was trembling as the full force of his emotions got the better of him.
"But I thought-"
She offered him a slight smile. A genuine, painfully sincere smile that beamed with every inch of truth she could throw at him. It was all he needed to understand.
Connie felt an unexpected boldness funnel into his bones. Suddenly, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace, half expecting her to phase right through him.
She didn't.
Sasha landed with a thud against his chest, she felt the coursing blood pump through his veins, his heart beating a mile a minute.
He couldn't feel hers.
Still he squeezed tight, wrenching his forearms into her back with vice grip strength.
"Why did you have to go?" he muffled into her collarbone. He caught the faintest hint of boiled potato and lemon ginger. Go figure. Her hair smelled like the spring breeze dancing through freshly bloomed cherry blossoms. He reveled in it as it lay blanketed between him and the crook of her neck.
Moving past her initial surprise, she reciprocated his embrace and squeezed with matching intensity. She could feel him squirm in pain, but she didn't care. She was just back in his arms, this time, the way it was supposed to be.
She smiled, and kept him close, relishing the minty basil aroma that was Connie Springer.
"I'm not gone. I'm right here."
He broke their hold, pulling apart to get lost in her stare again. His brows furrowed, and he gave her all his focus.
"Please come back to me, Sash. I need you." He breathed. "I'll do anything. I'd trade it all away to bring you back."
Her hand glided up his neck, leaving a trail of spectral dust flaking onto his shirt, vanishing as it makes contact with the thread. He leaned into her touch, savoring the icy hot trail it left as she traveled up his jaw, cupping the left half of his face.
His hand rose to meet hers, interlocking her ethereal fingers with his own.
"Connie."
She finally said it. His name reverberated through her lips like an angel's harp, serenading him into a sense of delight he'd long since forgotten. He silently thanked every mystical presence he could think of for allowing him to live this moment. Maybe it wasn't closure, and maybe it wasn't time to move on, but this was a start. For the first time in a long time, Connie Springer felt like himself again.
He felt whole again.
"I promise you. I will find my way back to you." Sasha whispered.
She pressed her lips gently against the center of his forehead. He melted into her touch.
"And bring you a cheeseburger, cause holy shit those were good." She added coyly.
The laugh he bellowed out starkly contrasted the tears that fell from his cheeks. He closed his eyes, and tried to archive everything he was feeling through the subtle contact between them.
"I'll see you soon, Con."
"Yeah. You will." He said confidently.
"Sasha I-" His words snagged in his gullet as he tried to force them out. He cleared his throat, hoping to free said words from the hooks of hesitation.
"Sasha, I love you."
He opened his eyes, hoping to find hers staring back at him.
His face fell in dismay.
There he sat, alone again on the rooftop of the stupid Survey Corps barracks in stupid Trost out here in the stupid cold.
He grunted in frustration, vigorously scratching the back of his head. He wanted to believe that what he just experienced wasn't just a trick of his vulnerable cognizance, that it was real, but doubt leaked into his mind with every passing second.
He stood, groaning from releasing the stiffness in his knees and trudged toward the edge of the rooftop where he originally discovered her.
He sucked in a weighty inhale, a frigid layer of frosty air coating his lungs. He involuntarily trailed his hand across the jagged stone of the roof ledge, letting his fingers feel the coarse gravel sliding underneath them.
He removed his hand from the rock and brushed his fingers together. Something chipped off them.
He looked intently at the pads of his fingers, noticing a strange dust like substance dissipating off his hand. It looked like-
"Bread crumbs?" he inquired.
He smiled from ear to ear.
"I can't wait to try a cheeseburger. Whatever that is."