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Ch.26- "Breath"
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Erwin's office was silent, save for the "tap tap tap" of his pen on the mahogany desk. A stack of request forms, signed and dated and ready to be sent to the Premier for approval, took up a good fourth of his desk. The papers in front of him weren't nearly as high quality, yellowed and stained with frayed, torn corners, no official seal, their words blunt and to the point, none of the flowery bush beating that was commonplace in the government. And yet, he had been reading the same sentence five times over without absorbing anything he was seeing yet. He would have been a sorry sight to see, slumped over, his chin on his palm as he moved the topmost paper aside, revealing an equally ratty paper beneath it. Fortunately, there was no one there but him.
Dropping his pen, he reached for the teacup beside his elbow, the fine bone porcelain part of a set that had belonged to the tenth commander. No one claimed his belongings when a Titan tore his head off, so they became property of the Survey Corps. His lips twisted in displeasure as the pale brown liquid touched his tongue, but he swallowed anyway. A sudden knock on the door may have startled him if he wasn't in the middle of yawning.
"Commander?"
"Come in." Hange's salute lasted only long enough for them to be certain there was no one else in the room, and their postured immediately relaxed. They waved about a sheaf of papers hard enough to audible flap.
"We're finally done with inventory! We have checked- and double checked- everything! Every ration, every flare, every spring in the wagon's suspension…" They dragged their feet over to his desk, trudging along like some shambling corpse, slamming the papers down in front of him. "Everything is perfect. Stop. Worrying." Groaning, they grabbed his cup and, before he could warn them, they'd already tossed back a hearty mouthful, nearly dropping the cup as they fought against the urge to vomit. They didn't, thankfully, nor did they even spit the contents back into the cup the way he'd been fearing. No, they swallowed, and promptly screamed in disgust. "EURGH! What the hell, Erwin; this tea is disgusting!"
"…it's not tea," he told them plainly, "it's watered-down whiskey." Shadis had been gracious enough to leave most of the alcohol in the right-hand cabinet behind, several half-empty bottles of whiskey and wine and gin, but many of the distilleries were in Wall Maria, with the farms growing the wheat and rye and grapes. There were farms and distilleries in all three walls, of course, but the price for such luxury goods had risen to costs most people still couldn't afford. Disgusting though this watered-down affront to the senses was, it still provided enough of a warm buzz through his veins to be worth choking it down. Hange paused in the process of wiping their tongue on their sleeve, their disgust immediately morphing into something too close to pity for Erwin's liking.
"It's one in the afternoon; why are you getting drunk?"
"I'm not; it's too watered-down to get drunk on."
"You know what I mean! You've been… down for a couple of days…" They walked behind the desk, behind his chair, leaning on his shoulders to look at what he was reading. "What is this? Room rentals? Why would you—" They gasped, obnoxiously loud and drawn out, and Erwin preemptively buried his head in his hands. "You sly dog…" They nudged his back with their elbow. "A military base is no place for newlyweds~"
"Hange. For the love of all that is good and holy, please. STOP." He rubbed his face, trying to alleviate the pressure starting to build behind his eyes. "We are not getting married- we are never getting married, and if you keep pestering me about this, as though my life is a novel you're trying to guess the twists and turns of, I will transfer you to the Eastern Garrison."
"What do you mean you're 'never'-" Hange stopped short, his words fully dawning on them. "That's where my parents live…"
"I know." He turned slightly in his seat, facing them so they could see just how serious he was. "Maybe you'll find 'a nice boy to settle down with'." Their nostrils flared as their jaw tightened.
"You are evil, Erwin, you know that?"
"I'm sorry; do you not like being pestered about your romantic life?"
"That's different! I'm not trying to force you into a marriage with the jackass pig farmer down the street who used to call you names and tried to smear dog shit in your hair- that didn't happen to me, I'm just… using it as an example… My point is, you like Thomasin. I know she likes you-"
"Hange." His voice was soft, but it silenced them just as quickly as though he'd shouted. "Would you be happy being married to someone… that you don't think is going to stay with you very long?" They blinked several times, their jaw just a little slack as they tried to wrap their head around his question.
"Wha…?"
"I'm not being snide or trying to shut you up this time. I'm sincerely asking if you would be happy in a relationship like that." Closing their mouth, Hange frowned, considering his words.
"If you're asking if I'd be happy being with someone I feel is planning to leave me for someone else, then the answer is obviously no. Of course not. …but I don't think that's what you're asking me…"
"It's not. Ever since I've known Thomasin, she's been adamant that I'm going to die a very early, very grisly death. At first, I thought it was a joke, albeit a rather grim one… but she kept saying it. 'You're going to be eaten by a Titan', 'You're going to die'…"You're going to go away… "She used to ask how our expeditions went, but as more time passed, she stopped… I won't say 'caring', but she doesn't want to think about them anymore. About what happens during them, what can happen. …what most likely will happen, one day. I can see it in her eyes. She's just… waiting. Waiting for me to die. …not what I'd consider the foundation of a long, happy marriage…" He grabbed his cup, throwing back the swallow Hange left, his throat working against the liquid as it went down and settled in his stomach like molten lead.
Marie had been the same, her fear outweighing any love she might have felt for him, and painful as it was, he couldn't fault either woman. Of course, Hange was nothing if not stubborn; they were like a child in a way. He'd tell them "no", explain why they couldn't have whatever they wanted, only for them to try to come at him from another angle.
"Okay, that's… not great, but-"
"No buts. I'm looking for a place for Thomasin to live before the next expedition." They frowned, retreating as far as the couch and sinking into it, the leather cushions groaning like something alive.
"I thought Ramirez said you were going to hire her as an on-site medic; how's she going to be 'on-site' if she's not living in the barracks?"
"She's not. She doesn't want to be reinstated in the Scouts, and I'm not going to force her."
But I don't want to watch you die…
"However, if she isn't going to work here, then she can't stay here." He sighed, leaning his head against the back of the chair. Therein laid the problem. He'd gone through Trost, collecting estimates for rooms, but the demand far outweighed the supply. Every row house, every hovel in the slums closest to the southern wall, was full, and even those were demanding more than two months of Thomasin's pension as rent.
"Do you really think Trost is the best place for her?" Hange asked, leaning forward amidst the creaking, groaning cushions. "If that colossal Titan comes back, Trost will be its most likely target."
"I know. I'd rather look for a place in Krolva or Calaneth, or even Utopia, but I just haven't had time…" He still had to go over the tweaks to the formation with his section commanders, and finish plotting the back-up route in case the village they planned to use for their first supply cache had sustained too much damage now that the Titans had reached Wall Rose… Even taking a carriage through Trost had taken up almost an entire day that, logically, should have been spent focusing on the Survey Corps.
"…Calaneth, you say…?" Pale blue eyes narrowed instantly.
"What are you plotting, Hange?"
"Nothing," they chirped, jumping to their feet, "nothing you need to worry your handsome, massive eyebrows over." Their suspicious grin dimmed slightly, that wretched pity creeping back into their voice. "Maybe now isn't the best time to get married… but one day, we will take back Wall Maria, and we will kill all the Titans. I know we will, I refuse to believe otherwise. Humanity has survived too long to fall now. And you will live to see that day, Erwin, because I would gladly lay down my life to usher adorable, curly-haired, bushy-eyebrowed babies into this world." They straightened, beating their fist against their chest in a perfect salute. "I swear this on my honor as a Scout!" Erwin could only stare at them, shaking his head slowly.
"That's… weird and kind of creepy, but… thank you, Hange."
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The Survey Corps' first true expedition- he would never, ever consider that butchery an expedition-under his tenure had crept another week closer, and the air within their headquarters was beginning to buzz and pulse with that familiar, anxious energy. The final soldier in their sickbay, one of their preemptive recruits, would be going back home in five more days, meaning all the beds would be empty, awaiting new bodies. Thomasin's relief had been palpable, even more so when Erwin informed her that the royal government would begin sending her her pension by next week.
"Thank god…" she groaned through a mouthful of bread, sagging in relief so much that she slid partially down the overstuffed leather cushions. All this time, when Erwin took his meals with her, they'd done so in her room, given her difficulty in managing stairs. With her new false leg, however, the stairs provided her almost as little challenge as they would have prior to her injury. She still used a crutch on them, he'd noticed a few times, mostly while descending, but every day as she marched down to the infirmary, her steps grew more and more confident. It was for that reason alone he felt no guilt asking her up to his office. Their empty bowls and cups were pushed to the edge of his desk, the room dimly lit with a handful of candles.
"Don't get me wrong; I'm beyond grateful for your charity, but I need to have money in my hands. You don't know how terrifying being completely broke is." He really didn't. He'd never been wealthy by any means, but never had he wanted for anything. Never had he gone to bed hungry, despite his gripes about the Survey Corps' meals, never had he been desperate enough to treat his own injuries, no matter how small or inconsequential they seemed.
Thomasin was in a good mood, as though their conversation following Otto's death had never happened. Erwin was content to let her talk for the time being, pulling one of his drawers open with a finger and thumbing through the papers contained therein. The only one that mattered was the one on top. She sighed, almost content but just a bit too melancholic.
"I'll start looking for a place to stay tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be out of your hair by next week."
"You were never 'in my hair'," he said softly. "Truth be told, I've been very happy having you here. …very happy. I enjoy your company, Thomasin. You know that." The apples of her cheeks reddened and she averted her gaze sheepishly, but her smile widened ever so slightly.
"I enjoy your company too, Erwin… I just don't like taking up space." He wanted to tell her she wasn't, but she would insist she was and they'd just end up talking in circles. There were more important things that needed to be brought up.
"About your 'new place'… I hope you don't mind my taking liberties with your life, but while I was finalizing the discharges of the last Scouts, I found something that may be of interest to you." Pulling out the piece of paper, he handed it to her, and any trace of embarrassment was quickly replaced with confusion and a touch of distrust. Erwin pushed one of the candles closer to her, looking at her eyelashes and the tilt of her nose while she was scanning the paper. Her face stood in stark contrast to his own, just as her eyes and hair and skin did, all softness and curves as opposed to his sharp angles.
' "Curly-haired, bushy-eyebrowed babies"… damn you, Hange…' He thankfully didn't have long to dwell on those invasive thoughts as Thomasin's dark gaze met his.
"Calaneth?"
"Mm hm." Erwin folded his hands on the desk as she lowered the lease to her lap. "It's not exceedingly large- only two rooms- and it's by the sluice gate, so the area might be prone to flooding, but it's cheap… relatively speaking. It has a bathroom. It even has a small yard attached." He gave her a hint of a smile. "You can finally have your garden." Rather than be cheered by that reminder of a life that seemed forever ago, Thomasin's expression grew more conflicted.
"Trost is the southernmost district now; wouldn't it be cheaper here?"
"You'd think so, but no." Erwin's lips set back in their usual hard line, stormy thoughts darkening the blue of his eyes. "Ever since the refugees came, the cost of living in Trost practically quadrupled. Even with most of them gone, the lack of jobs and price of goods is going to get worse before it gets better. Believe me, I looked into renting a room, and it's no exaggeration to say these landlords are committing crimes against humanity. You'd be hard pressed to find a room you won't be sharing with three other families, and paying your entire pension for the privilege. Calaneth will be cheaper in the long run." She shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and when she opened them, they were clouded, as if in pain. Her whole face was pinched, like a headache was brewing in her temples.
"How did you do this? When did you do this; I think I'd have noticed you taking a day trip to Calaneth."
"It was done through Hange. Their aunt lives in the Calaneth outskirts." He'd been just as dumbfounded when they waltzed into his office three days ago, waving two listings from the eastern district before his nose as though they were juicy steaks. He'd forgiven their smug grin when he noticed that the rent, while still high, wasn't nearly as ruinous as anything within Trost. Thomasin was holding a revised lease; the original still would have cost the majority of her pension, but Erwin had… made arrangements. Assuming she was amenable to the whole situation.
Silence lapsed in the room, each of them lost in their own thoughts. When Thomasin finally spoke, her voice was so quiet, so small, that Erwin could barely hear her despite sitting less than a meter from her.
"Calaneth is so far away…" Almost six hours by wagon. The ferries only went up and down the major rivers the districts were built around.
"That's good," he told her firmly. Leaning closer, he caught her gaze, dropping his voice as he stared deeply into her eyes. "The Titans have naturally begun congregating around Trost, and we have no idea what's become of those Armored or Colossal Titans. If- no, when they show up again- because they will, it would be idiocy to believe the threat is gone just because we can't see it- their most likely target will be Trost. And if that gate falls…"
He shut his eyes. The flash of fear behind the umber gaze before him was painful enough to see on its own, but the fear in his own heart was a wound that bled raw even now. When Wall Maria fell and he was certain Thomasin had died and taken his heart to the grave with her, he'd managed to continue pushing his body forward, the desire to see his father vindicated once again driving his lungs to breathe and his limbs to move. Despite his desperation to be unfeeling, as long as the woman beside him drew breath, he knew his weak heart would continue to beat and pine and love… and if he lost her again, the pain would kill him as surely as a sword. It was the one thing he could not endure. Maybe he was being selfish, but dammit, what did it matter how selfish he was if he was also doing what was best for her? For the Survey Corps? For humanity?
"You shouldn't have done this, Erwin…" He blinked, almost having forgotten she was there.
"Why not?"
"Because-" She turned away, breathing hard through her nose. He dully remembered Mike's claim that she wanted to know what he smelled like. Maybe she just meant it as a jape. After all, there was no lack of closeness between them. How many times had he carried her, on his back, in his arms? Enough for him to know that, when things were at least somewhat right in the world, she smelled of dried flowers and dried herbs and, more recently, powerful antiseptic. "You have so many things to do, so many more important things than taking care of me."
"That's not true…"
"Yes, it is! I hate this," she whispered, her voice a harsh hiss aimed at herself. "I'm not a Scout. I'm not a medic. I don't even cook for you anymore- I don't contribute anything to you but more burdens…!"
"You are never a burden to me, Thomasin," he told her sternly. "Listen to me. I don't care what the Premier, or the Assembly, or the King Himself says. You took an oath, you served humanity- you will be a Scout until the day you die. I am not Keith Shadis. I will never throw my Scouts away like they are garbage the moment they aren't able to contribute in combat. I will never let any of my Scouts feel so alone and overwhelmed within these walls that they wish they had died outside them."
Thomasin averted her eyes, but Erwin stood, walking around his desk and taking a seat on the couch beside her. The cushions dipped under his weight, and their arms brushed as she tipped towards him. Shifting, he reached out, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Shame was writ on her face, and it took every ounce of his considerable self control to avoid caressing her lower lip with his thumb. His tone, and gaze, softened.
"I will always take care of my little birds, Thomasin… and you will always be one of them."
Her eyes shone, misty with tears he knew she wouldn't shed so long as he was looking straight at her. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press his lips against hers, to crush her against his chest and tell her he loved her until she finally believed that she was the furthest thing from a burden, that knowing he could do something, anything for her, was the closest thing to a victory he'd achieved in years. She hadn't moved to put any space between them, still leaning against his arm, her warmth searing him through both their sleeves. He didn't even notice he was leaning closer- or maybe she was leaning closer, still tilting into the dip he created- until she sighed and her breath washed over his lips. She turned away from him, leaning all her weight against him as she stared listlessly at the books lining the far wall.
"I guess we won't see each other very often…"
"Most likely not," he acquiesced quietly, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly it hurt, "but we can still write."
"Yeah… Maybe we can see each other once in a while." She glanced back at him, her lips quirking into a tiny grin that didn't reach her eyes. "If you come by for your birthday, maybe I can bake you another cake. It wouldn't have frosting, of course." He grinned back, and though he felt no more joy than she displayed, he did a better job of masking his own dismay.
"Frosting or no, if you keep feeding me cake, I'm going to get fat." She laughed then, light but almost happy, reaching across herself with her right arm and lightly pinching his bicep through his sleeve.
"Yeah right! Show me one ounce of fat on this."
"That's the point; there isn't any because I haven't let you stuff me full of sweets yet."
Their eyes locked and Erwin wondered if Thomasin felt the same tension he did. Maybe she did. Maybe that was why they both started laughing at the same time, and the tension was broken instantly. She sighed again, a wistful sound this time.
"Well, an opportunity like this is never going to fall into my lap again, so I guess I'll go find this landlord as soon as my first pension payment is delivered. Hopefully he doesn't rent the place out to someone else by then."
"You needn't worry about that. The deposit has already been paid. Your keys are in my desk." Thomasin frowned, her eyes narrowing.
"How has anything already been paid for, Erwin?" This time, he was the one who averted his gaze.
"You have a year's worth of back pay on your pension. I… may have used some of that for the initial deposit." That wasn't the whole truth. When he'd gone to speak with the noble who owned the property, he had arranged for some of Thomasin's pension to be used… but the bulk of the original lease's deposit came from his own savings. As would most of the rent come from his salary.
He would have paid the whole price, every month and gladly, but he knew Thomasin far too well to believe she would tolerate that much charity from him. She had pride just the same as anyone else, and he could not rip that from her just to alleviate his own guilt. She would never need to know about this arrangement. Still, she wasn't pleased with what she did know, and with good reason.
"You're spending my money without my knowledge or consent? What if I didn't want to live here?"
"Then I'd reimburse you from my own salary and apologize profusely. But I believed you were prudent enough to take an opportunity when you saw one, and my gamble paid off."
" 'Gamble'…" She scoffed and shook her head. "Don't try your hand at poker, Erwin; you are not that smart." He smirked, looking back at her.
"Oh, trust me, I stay away from games of chance; my wagers are sure things. I prefer chess myself."
"Of course you do, you pompous ass…" She curled into herself a little. "Well, since it's all paid for, I can… head east as soon as I get this month's payment."
"You don't have to," Erwin told her quickly, perhaps too quickly. "There's still two weeks until the expedition; you can stay here until then, at least." Thomasin shook her head again, slower this time.
"The longer I stay, the harder it'll be to leave. I have to leave. I can't stay here." …he knew that. "I guess… this'll be the last moment we spend together for a long time… Damn. Wish I'd known that earlier; maybe we could've talked about something worthwhile…" As far as Erwin was concerned, every conversation they had was worthwhile, any topic, no matter how insipid, gripped him and held his attention, but even so, he understood what she meant. Inspiration struck him like a thunderbolt, and he stood so suddenly that Thomasin toppled over onto the space he'd just vacated. "Ow! The fuck, Erwin? I almost fell on the floor!"
"Give me one second!" He was already in his room, grabbing what they would need. By the time she'd righted herself, he was back in the office, tossing two of the thinner comforters at her as he straightened his ODM harness with the hand not holding his scabbards. Thomasin pulled the covers from her head, her lip twisting at the sight of his juggling act.
"No… no no no, what the hell is this, now? Erwin…!"
"We're going somewhere special."
"NO! It's late; I don't wanna go on the fucking Wall now!"
"We're not."
He handed her the scabbards as he toed his shoes off and slid his feet into the leg harnesses. It took him less than a minute to don and buckle the web of leather straps, thirty more seconds to lock his ODM gear into place. More time was spent connecting his hoses and testing the triggers- always test the triggers, the gear shifts, the acceleration; it was a Scout's first instinct the moment they felt the leather-covered grips in their hands. Thomasin had bunched up the blankets, hugging them and burying her face, the makeshift pillow muffling her exasperated groans, though not enough for Erwin to not hear. Fully geared up, he took those blankets back and folded them, keeling and presenting his back to Thomasin as he balance the blankets atop his shoulder blades.
"Hop on."
"Erwin, it's late. You need to go to sleep."
"It's not even midnight, and I'm not tired."
"Mid-! Normal people are already fast asleep by midnight!"
"I'm not 'normal people'." He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his cerulean gaze beseeching her. "There won't be a lot of time for us to- …there won't be a lot of time for us going forward. I need to focus all my attention on the Corps' upcoming mission, and you… I'm afraid you're going to be starting over from scratch again… but not tonight. There's nothing to worry about tonight, so let's enjoy that." He'd already won her over, he could see it in her eyes, but she was still holding out.
"…you promise we're not going to the Wall?"
"Like you said; it's late. Even if I wanted to disturb the peace vertically maneuvering across Trost, I know you have no interest in the view at night."
Thomasin sighed, but moved forward, draping herself across Erwin's back. He reveled in her weight, her warmth- even her chin digging into his shoulder. Straightening, he went behind the desk, unlocking and throwing open the windows. Brisk, early spring air washed over him, dispelling even the notion of tiredness. Stepping one foot onto the windowsill, he aimed and deployed his hooks. They buried themselves deeply into the bricks of the other side of the barracks, above the row of windows. Testing their combined weight, he had to move carefully to account not only for the extra height, but also Thomasin's false leg- it stood out straight ahead, unable to bend.
"Ready?"
"No… yes." She squeezed him tighter, gripping his shirt for all she was worth as Erwin leapt from the window, falling free for a terrifying second before squeezing the triggers and reeling them towards the opposite wall.
This was nothing like their first, or even second time sharing ODM gear. He was not sickly and weak, nor was he a panicking boy still labeled a cadet. The years and years and years of training and battles eroded his fear and strengthened him enough that, even though he could still feel the strain of the added weight in every joint and tendon and muscle, it didn't slow him down or even give him pause. It took less time to reach the roof just over his office than it had to don his gear. Erwin laid out the thicker of the blankets over the deep blue tiles before turning and lowering Thomasin down. Sitting beside her, he shook out the other blanket and wrapped it around both their shoulders, providing just enough warmth for the chill to be pleasant.
"The first time we really spoke as Scouts was on a roof."
"Yeah, a tavern roof; you were piss drunk and passed out. I had to get one of your squad mates to help me get you down."
"Well, I don't remember any of that- probably on account of being piss drunk." He shifted closer to her, but the scabbard his thigh ensured there would always be distance between them. "I'd like to have an actual memory of speaking with you on a roof." Thomasin huffed through her nose, a wry smile thinning her lips.
"A roof, a room, under a tree; what difference does it make?"
"You mention sitting on roofs a lot. It's something that matters enough for you to miss doing it. I'd like to experience it myself, to see what makes it so special to you," he said quietly, shifting to lean back on his arms.
The moon was new, a silvery sliver amidst countless twinkling pinpricks that provided no light to the earth below. Thomasin wasn't looking at the sky this time. She was looking at her lap, or perhaps more accurately, at her hands in her lap. She tugged her sleeve- Hange's sleeve, she was still wearing borrowed clothes- pulling it as far over her knuckles as it would go, pinching the hem between her thumb and forefinger.
"There's nothing 'special' about it. I already told you, I just looked at things. People watching, bird watching, stargazing… Sometimes, my mom sat up there with me."
"Surely you looked at things for a reason?"
"What does it matter?" she shot back, almost snapping. Then softer, almost a sigh, "…I liked looking at the clouds… and the birds… I'd watch them go past the wall until I couldn't see them anymore. I used to pick up broken bits of shingles and throw them at the sky- my idiot kid brain actually thought I could hit birds or knock clouds out the sky." Well, maybe that was where her aim came from. He frowned.
"Why would you want to hit birds… or clouds?" He hadn't known her when she was a child, but Erwin couldn't picture her as one of those awful children who threw rocks at dogs and cats and tried to knock bird nests out of trees. Thomasin drew her knee to her chest, wrapping her arm around her leg, still twisting the sleeve between her fingers.
"I don't know. I was stupid." She lowered her head, speaking more to her thigh than to him. "I was… jealous… I wanted to fly, too. I wanted me and my mom to be able to fly away and not have to worry about rent or food or the Military Police or-" She cut herself off, resting her forehead on her knee and completely hiding her face from him. "God, that sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. I was such a stupid kid…"
"That's not stupid at all." Erwin's voice was whisper quiet, but firm. "It sounds to me like you were a very intelligent child, Thomasin. More so than I ever was. I had no idea how the real world worked. I didn't even know those were things to be worried about…"
He'd always been taught to trust and obey the Military Police. They protected the King's peace. They were good people. The MP who'd asked about what his father told him had been nice; he'd smiled and patted Erwin on the head after he damned his father, and being the stupid, stupid child he was, it never even occurred to him that that hadn't been the right thing to do.
No… he didn't want to think about this, not now. He could curse his idiocy and lament his mistakes any other time, but not now. He pushed those thoughts away, pulling his half of the blanket further around himself. It did nothing to help; the chill he was feeling came from within.
"Is that why you wanted to go on top of the Wall? To see where the birds and clouds went? To see where there were no more worries?" Thomasin curled into herself, her hands balled into fists, knuckles flexing.
"I guess you could say that… I didn't see anything, though; not what I was hoping to see, at any rate." Was that why she had wept so desperately, because she expected something… more for all the work and suffering she'd put in to get there? If she hadn't lost her leg, hadn't been discharged, would she have gone back up again and again until what she saw met her expectations? A thought, strange and sudden but fiercely burning to be answered, popped into his mind.
"How do you think your life would have turned out if you'd never joined the Scouts?"
"I don't."
"Huh?" The fact that she had an answer primed and ready to go surprised him just as much as the answer itself. Maybe she didn't quite hear him, or maybe she didn't understand exactly what he meant-
"I mean, I don't think about that." Thomasin lifted her head, resting her chin on her knee. It was too dark for Erwin to see the finer details of her expression, even if she would have been facing him, but he could see the sullen set of her lips, just the same as when she was a teenager. "I never think about the future, about 'what ifs'. Never have." Erwin turned half his body to scowl at her.
"Like hell you don't. Someone who doesn't think about the future wouldn't go on at length about how I'm absolutely going to die-"
"I'm talking about me, you blonde jackass. My future." For as harsh as her words were, there was practically no inflection in her voice. His indignation fizzled out, leaving him feeling strangely hollow. He… didn't know what to think about that. A part of him was near bursting with excitement at the notion of Thomasin worrying about him to the exclusion of all else, but… an equal part of him was disquieted that she would exclude herself as well. Before he could press her further and suss out exactly what she meant, she straightened, facing him finally.
"What about you? What if you'd never become a soldier?" He was expecting his question to be turned back around at himself, but even though he'd seen it coming, he still didn't entirely know how to respond.
"I'm not sure. I think I've always wanted to be a Scout, ever since I was old enough to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up…"
"So, since your dad died?" Her blunt wording chilled him, despite her tone not being unkind.
"What?" She tilted her head back to gaze up at the star, and she looked so young that Erwin felt younger himself. In that moment, they were cadets again.
"I mean, that's when kids start thinking about the future, right? When they realize that things aren't going to stay the same anymore, when you realize you're going to 'grow up' and you have to do something…"
"…I suppose you're right…" That yearning that had been sparked within him by his father's words had been a part of him for so long that it was difficult to remember a time when his thoughts didn't constantly turn outside the walls… Thomasin pressed on, still not looking at him. Maybe not even listening to him.
"What if he was still alive? If your dad was still here, do you think you'd still want to be a Scout?" Erwin prided himself on having a keen mental eye, on seeing things as they could be- as they should be- rather than as they were, but even so, this was a difficult concept for him to envision. He'd only been eight when he watched his father's casket lower into the ground. Mike and Hange and Thomasin herself had been part of his life longer than his own father had the privilege to be. She was asking him to redraw his life's map based on the imagined influence of a man he half-remembered. His mind said he had no way of knowing, but his gut…
"Honestly, I do. As long as I was sure there were people still out there, still living far away from the Walls, I'd want to find them…" he lowered his voice, mouthing the words almost to himself, "maybe just for a different reason…"
Erwin closed his eyes, trying to conjure up an image of his father smiling. The images were blurry in his memory, but he still felt it… In that idealized world, it would have been nice to make his father proud by proving his theory for him. The hairs on the back of his neck all stood on end, and he opened his eyes to see Thomasin staring at him with that same unnerving, unblinking stare she used to fix him with. Back then, it didn't make his heart start tapping out a painful tattoo against his rib cage.
"What?"
"You were smiling to yourself," she whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at her own lips. A hot flush crept up his neck, and he looked away. "Don't be embarrassed. It's sweet that you love your father so much, even now. He must have been a wonderful man to have such a devoted son."
"He was."
Another thought struck Erwin suddenly, not so much a thought, but a longing. The desire to introduce his friends to his father- not the two-faced tattletales from class, but the men and women who stood beside him beyond the walls, who he entrusted his life with (Hange would have loved him; he'd have listened to them prattle on about Titans for hours). Or even to just go home on his days off and talk, ' "Um, father? There's this… girl I like…" "That's wonderful. Invite her over for dinner on your next day off…"' Something so simple, so mundane but so unobtainable for him that it hurt, to the point that he barely realized Thomasin was still speaking.
"-my dad-"
"What about you?" She paused, her lips still forming the shape of the last syllable she'd spoken.
"...what about me?"
"You joined the military after your mother died, didn't you? Would you have done all that if she were still alive?" It was cruel of him, trying to deflect his pain onto her, but he couldn't bear to think about fathers anymore. Thomasin never told him when her mother died, but given that she never left the training camp until graduation, not even to visit the nearby towns and villages, logic dictated that it happened before she enlisted.
"…probably not." Her voice was dull, listless, just like old times. "I'd probably still be living in Quinta, pouring drinks, knocked up with two kids…" Erwin swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.
"You think you'd be married?"
Pretend that squalid shack is your home, and that gimp is your loving wife…
Thomasin's lips curled into a scowl.
"I didn't say I'd be married. I said I'd probably have kids."
…until she gets sick of you and finds someone who's man enough to actually fuck her…
He fought his dismay, his disappointment, even though he wasn't entirely sure why he was upset. After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't taken his pleasure outside of a marriage bed; if she pictured herself working a miserable job and living a miserable life, why shouldn't she picture herself seeking a bit of enjoyment where she could find it? Really, he should have been relieved she wasn't detailing her dream life of marital bliss with some tall, dark and handsome tradesman.
"Married or not, I'm sure you'd be a wonderful mother." 'Curly-haired, bushy-eyebrowed babies… damn you, Hange…!'
"…is that what you think, Smith?"
"Of course." He hadn't noticed she had leaned closer until he felt the thrum of her voice in his skin. Or maybe he had leaned closer, the iron bamboo digging into his side. "You're kind, intelligent, strong…" His father had been all those things. Surely a good father and a good mother were much the same?
He could barely see her eyes, only the faint light from the nearest window reflected in them. His eyes were far paler, though, and maybe she could see them, could see them darting between her eyes and lips. He wouldn't even have to lean any further down to kiss her, just tilt his head. Thomasin shifted, her face moving closer for a second, and his heart lurched. She did not kiss him. Of course she didn't. She reached up, tapping his nose. Her finger lingered for a moment.
"For someone so smart, who's seen so many things… you're really stupid. The innocent kind of stupid." He half expected her to laugh at him- a soft chuckle or a breathy giggle usually accompanied statements like that, but not this time. She trailed her finger along the bridge of his nose, down to the tip, and though he leaned into it, inviting her whisper-soft touch against his cheeks, his lips, she let her hand fall away. "Never change, Erwin. I know everything changes eventually- I might as well be asking the sun not to rise, but… please don't. Please always be as stupid, and innocent, and earnest as you are…"
He didn't know what to say to that, but thankfully, it didn't seem like she actually expected a response. Sighing deeply, she leaned closer, bent awkwardly at the waist to avoid the edges of his ODM gear from digging into her flesh, and rested her head on his shoulder. Erwin reached across her, pulling her side of the blanket closer together, his cheek atop her head as he stared out across the roofs and river. The Wall blocked him from seeing any further, but he could picture the horizon clear enough beyond it.
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The hour was so early that the sky remained a rich navy, though the stars had faded from view. The bakers were already up, thins ribbons of smoke rising from their chimneys, but the streetlamps were still burning. Hugging the inside of Wall Rose, the journey from Trost to Calaneth would take about three hours on horseback- two for the Survey Corps horses- but there were no roads that close to the wall, much of the area overgrown with brambles and waist-high grass that the Garrison hadn't bothered maintaining for years. They were working to remedy that, but it was still easier to take an actual road.
Erwin had hired a horse and cart for the journey, some crofter who was more than pleased to accept a purse of Marias for a simple round trip. It would be faster to ride his own stallion, but he would not use Survey Corps resources for his personal benefit. He was a good commander, righteous and honorable and selfless… Besides, Thomasin would have an easier time sitting a cart than a horse. He'd had to lift her up as their was no step, but sitting on the blackened wood with her one leg folded under her, she looked… well, if not comfortable, then at least less awkward than she had on the back of a horse. Erwin sat beside her, but she paid him no mind, her attention focused solely on the houses at the outskirts of the district as they grew smaller and smaller, until they crossed the river and those houses looked like little more than children's toys. There was no wistful glimmer in her eyes, nor melancholic tone in her sigh. To an outsider, she'd have looked bored at best, but he only had to glance down, to see the way she incessantly toyed with her sleeves, and know she was was nowhere near as aloof as she appeared.
She was once again wearing her pilfered military uniform, at least the shirt and pants. Erwin refused to return the jacket- "Impersonating an officer is illegal"- but she argued that anyone could wear a white shirt and white pants, and neither of those things had ever bore an insignia, so he couldn't prove they were military to begin with. Hange would have gladly let her keep some of their clothes, but she refused, and as such, left the barracks with even less than she'd entered with. Early as it was, a damp chill still hung in the air, fog rolling over the ground. Thomasin didn't shiver, but she had to have been cold, given the way she kept rubbing her arms. Erwin removed his jacket and laid it over her shoulders, only to have her immediately try to wrest it off.
"No, you need it-"
"If I needed it, I wouldn't have taken it off." He was young and healthy; he'd hardly catch his death from a little chill. She didn't argue as he half expected her to, silently slipping her arms into the sleeves of the coat.
The shoulders, which were starting to get a bit tight- he hadn't bought plainclothes in almost five years, and had put on a fair bit more muscle in the time- hung nearly to the middle of her arms, the cuffs of the sleeves dangling to her fingertips. She tried to fold the cuffs up, only to have them immediately fall back down, and Erwin made a sound like air being sucked through a thin reed. She looked up, dark eyes narrowing.
"Oh, what the fuck are you laughing about?" He composed himself, his lips fighting against him the entire time.
"You look like a little girl wearing her father's clothes…"
"Yeah, maybe compared to you, you giant ox. I can look most men in the eye, but not you- and not your freakish, Titan-child boyfriend, either. You're too big to be Scouts; both of you should be on a farm somewhere, slinging bales of hay." She wasn't wrong; longer limbs meant it was easier to make a mistake while vertically maneuvering, but he pointedly ignored that, scooting closer to her so they sat hip to hip.
"You should be glad men so much bigger than you exist."
"And why's that, Smith?"
"Imagine if you were to marry and your husband couldn't even carry you over the threshold." Perhaps it was madness that seized his tongue, or perhaps his tongue was still loose from their night up on the roof. They'd spoken candidly, as they did when they were little more than children, and he clung to that carefree, childish mentality. Thankfully, Thomasin did not blush or stutter, but fixed him with a shrewd stare.
"So? Maybe I'd carry him. I could find me a petite man and sit him up on my shoulder so he can whisper dirty things in my ear." Erwin's mind immediately went to Levi, but while that would have made him feel ill at any other time, he was drunk on a lack of sleep and the mental image of the short man perched on Thomasin's shoulder like an overgrown magpie that had been taught to squawk words like "shit" and "fuck" had him nearly howling with laughter. "What's so funny? Why are you laughing? Are you dying?"…are you dying, Blondie? Is that why you're so talkative…? It did not take long to calm himself, but he held off on sharing the joke, only insisting that he would tell her later.
Their journey wasn't as bleak as it could have been. Thomasin did lapse into silence occasionally, but the scenery they passed was charming enough that it felt more appreciative than bleak. Kilometers of fields had already been ploughed, and as the sun peeked its head over Wall Rose, farmers walked them, throwing seeds. They passed orchards of trees that looked like skeletal hands clawing at the ever-brightening sky, the tender green leaves budding on them so small as to barely be noticeable from a distance. The further east they traveled, the more trees they passed, chestnuts and oaks and pines. It was said that, in the eastern side of Wall Maria, redwoods grew tall as the walls themselves.
"I've never been east of Trost before," Thomasin mused quietly, pulling Erwin's jacket tighter despite the sun being bright enough to have dried all the dew on the grass. "What about you?"
"I've been to the eastern branch of the Training Corps and Stohess, but everything in Wall Sina looks the same." He'd never been able to appreciate the unique architecture or smoothly paved streets given that nearly every time he traveled north, it was for something tedious at best and downright unpleasant at worst.
Out here, away from the crowded districts and townships along the main roads, everything was so very… different. Large cottages made of stone were neighbors to hovels built of little more than sticks and mud. Cows and goats and sheep grazed, seen to by the children who weren't running about the fields, chasing birds away from the newly planted seed.
Vaguely, he wondered if, somewhere out there, far, far away beyond Wall Maria, other humans were tending to their crops and livestock as well. Perhaps they grew plants unlike anything he could imagine- his father taught him that there were places in the world that were so hot, all the ground was sand, and places so cold that it snowed year round, and that, before the Titans came, humans called those places "home". But humans couldn't live on sand and snow, so they had to have some crops to grow, some game to hunt-
"Ow!" Erwin was pulled from his musings by a sharp sting in either cheek. Thomasin ceased her pinching, but kept her hands where they were, the chill of her fingers soothing against his sore skin.
"Thinking about your stupid theories again?"
"What makes you say that?"
"I can see you thinking." He frowned slightly, rubbing the ache away.
"I have many things to think about."
"No, you have a different look about you when you're thinking about worrisome things," she sighed, lowering her hands and folding them in her lap. "When you start thinking about your 'what ifs' beyond the walls, your eyes get unfocused, and you get this creepy-ass… I wouldn't call it a smile, per se…" Something he would call a smile tugged at her lips, though it did not fully reach her eyes. "I haven't seen that look on your face in years."
"I suppose I've been too busy to think about those 'what ifs'. The older I get, the less time I have to while away on silly dreams… I never appreciated how much free time I had when I was young…"
"You're still young; thirty's not that old."
Perhaps not- Shadis was in his fifties, or near enough to make no difference, but while Thomasin surely meant that he had a good decade or two before his age caught up with him, all Erwin could think was that he'd accomplished nothing in the past twenty two years. Of course, he'd risen through the ranks and even created a military formation, but… that wasn't what he'd joined the Survey Corps to do. He hadn't spent his youth reading those forbidden books in his father's study dreaming of glory or status… His life was half over, and he was no closer to those "what ifs" than he had been when his father first planted them in his mind.
He pulled his thoughts back from that dark place they were headed just in time to notice the cart slowing. The outskirts of Calaneth within Wall Rose were much like those of Trost and Krolva, though Erwin didn't recall seeing nearly as many pigs in the streets. Given that they were rooting about, eating garbage and waste, that would probably explain why Trost had so quickly been overrun with filth as soon as the population grew.
"Ye won't be long, Commander? Only I'd rather not waste me whole day sittin' about."
"No." Erwin had already jumped down, pins and needles pricking his left leg. "Water your horse; I won't be half an hour." He held his hands out to lift Thomasin, but she only braced herself on his arms, sliding down and ensuring that when she landed, only her foot actually hit the ground.
Standing upright, his coat, which only fell to about the top of his hips, was mid-thigh length on her. With her baggy pants and baggy shirt and overlarge jacket and short cropped hair, she looked like a gangly teenage boy, which was probably why so many people openly stared as they walked through the gate hand in hand. Erwin wasn't entirely sure if he'd taken her hand to lead her, or if Thomasin had taken his to keep him from walking too far ahead, but he didn't care either way.
"Do you know where this house is?"
"I do." Reaching over, he fished the lease from his jacket's pocket and unfolded it. "Five Barrowe Avenue."
"…do you know where that is?"
"Not a clue." He folded the lease back as best he could one handed. "But I don't need to. It's by the sluice gate, ergo, it's by the river."
The rivers in Wall Rose weren't as pristine and sweet smelling as they were in Wall Sina- apparently, it was actually some poor sods' job to skim the rivers with nets in the Interior- but they were far cleaner than they were further down south. With the ferries no longer traveling downstream, the river was filled with skiffs and barges, children waving at them from the bridges.
It was a fair distance from Wall Rose down to the curve of the outer wall of Calaneth. The wall cast most of the area in shadow, and the homes here were noticeably smaller and in worse condition than those closer to the middle of the city. Reaching the last house along the row of squat, dingy homes, Erwin reluctantly released Thomasin's hand and bade her stay for a moment while he sprinted to the actual street. There was indeed a "5" painted on the door, only noticeable because the wood was lighter where almost all the paint had flaked off. He ran back.
"This is it." Thomasin tilted her head back to take in the corner of the roof where the beams were visibly rotting and almost all the shingles had fallen off.
"…you spent money on this? My money?"
"It's fine," he assured her, taking her hand once more and pulling her along. He paused, between her soon-to-be home and the neighboring house. "Look! It's a yard! You can plant things." It was little more than a patch of sandy dirt beside the house. She glanced at it and looked back up at the curve of the outer wall looming over them.
"…there's no sun here."
"There will be sun. It's fine." Upon reaching the door, he told her to take the key from his coat pocket and invite him into her home like a good host. She fought against the smile threatening to break through her face, inserting the key, turning the knob… and nothing. The smile was gone immediately as she threw her weight against the door, only for it to remain stuck fast. The look she gave Erwin could geld a man.
"It's just a little warped. It's fine." He lightly pushed her aside, turning the knob and throwing his own shoulder against the door. It budged, but did not open. Backing up two steps, he took aim and, taking a note from Mike's book, kicked the door near the knob. He did not have his lieutenant's immense strength, however, so it took several kicks for the wood to finally splinter enough that it slowly creaked open on rusted hinges. "I can fix that." He gestured to the splintered section of wood missing from the top of the door.
"It's probably best if you don't; otherwise I won't be able to open it."
She stepped inside, barely leaving enough space for him to follow as she looked around. The door led directly into a large empty room, a stone oven with a counter attached and water pump along the left wall.
"Well?" he asked, not sure why he was so anxious for her answer.
"It looks better on the inside than the outside, I'll give it that."
"That it does. And look; two windows!" Above the counter, and on the opposite wall sat two decently sized panes. "Imagine actually feeling a breeze come summer."
"How am I supposed to open that thing, Smith? That counter's nearly a meter wide."
"I thought you were tall?" he asked sardonically, heading over to the window himself. It was a bit awkward to lean, but if he could reach the top of the frame with no issue, Thomasin could as well. He pushed up on the wood and it didn't budge.
" 'I tHoUgHt YoU wErE tAlL?' "
"Shut up, it just needs a little elbow grease, it's… fine- fucking hell, why are you so hard to open…!?" Thomasin practically choked with laughter as he fought a losing battle against the warped wood and dingy glass, ultimately climbing atop the counter to get a bit of leverage. The stream of curses he let loose were also very important in the process. He succeeded in opening the window- that was all that mattered.
"You said there's a bathroom?"
"In the back, I think…" Erwin would not admit that opening a window winded him more than riding did. His pride would not allow for such an admission. As Thomasin limped through the somewhat lopsided doorway leading to the bedroom, he twisted and sat on the counter. It was a good, sturdy thing to not even groan or creak under his weight. Hange- and their aunt- had come through for him far more than he'd ever expected.
So much living space in Trost would bankrupt a man… even if it was dismally empty. There wasn't even any wood beside the hearth. He'd have to remember to close the window before he left… A blood-curdling shriek followed by a loud, painful "thud" had him on his feet at once, instinctively reaching for the blades that weren't at his hips. It only took Erwin a few full strides to reach the back room, where Thomasin lay sprawled on the floor, apparently having tripped over the corner of the bed, her false leg somewhat askew. She was holding her pants with one hand, the belt around her waist undone, while she braced herself with the other, breathing hard.
"What is it?!" Still panting, she released her grip on the pants, pointed a shaking hand at the small open door. The bathroom was barely bigger than a closet, with a toilet, wooden washtub and another water pump. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the toilet (other than the fact that it was filthy, but no worse than what they dealt with in the Training Corps). However, a soft hissing was coming from the washtub. Erwin took a cautious step towards it, peering inside where a well-fed mink was currently nursing no less than six pink, hairless babies. It bared its tiny, razor sharp teeth at him and he stepped back out, quietly closing the door behind him.
"I think that room is occupied."
"How am I supposed to use the bathroom!? I almost pissed my pants!"
"Surely it won't bother you if you don't bother it. If you'd prefer, I can toss it outside-"
"No, it's cold out- the babies will freeze- how the fuck did it get in here in the first- No, no; no time. I gotta pee. Help me." A thick brow raised suspiciously.
" 'Help' you…?"
"Up!" Clearly she meant for him to take her outstretched hands and pull her to her feet, but Erwin found it easier to just bend and pick her up wholesale, depositing her back on her foot besides the bathroom door she still seemed reluctant to open.
"You could go outside," he suggested.
"Where?"
"The river's right there…"
"I will kill you, Smith."
She slid into the room, leaving him to stand there awkwardly, trying his best not to hear anything (though he couldn't help but smirk as she hissed at her… other house guest, "Shut up, you evil thing! I'll make you into stew!"). She left so quickly she was still buttoning her fly as she quickly limped back to the main room, cranking the water pump furiously to wash her hands.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Erwin called out to her.
"Why don't you go piss in there and see for yourself? I'm sure you'll love having those beady little eyes glaring at you, just waiting to pounce and chew your cock off."
"If you want me to take it outside-"
"NO!" Drying her hands on her shirt, Thomasin limped back into the bedroom, trudging to the only piece of furniture included in the lease- a moderately sized pallet bed with a thin mattress that smelled of old straw. She sat heavily on it, letting out a deep sigh and patting the space beside her. The wooden frame groaned under Erwin's weight, and they both held their breath, only releasing it once it seemed unlikely the bed would collapse. "What kind of monster would I be if I tossed a bunch of poor little baby weasles into the street?"
"Less of a monster than the people who toss human mothers and their children into the streets."
"I guess I'll be bathing in the kitchen for a while."
"…you might want to put up some curtains, first." She chuckled, but the humor quickly left her, her smile looking more and more strained.
"I know I've been complaining, but thank you for this, Erwin. Truly, you and Hange both. I've… never looked for a place to stay on my own, before. After I was discharged, I stayed at an inn. Dr. Yaeger helped me find that apartment… first him, and now you… I can't do anything on my own."
"You do plenty on your own, Thomasin. Is it so wrong to accept help every now and then?"
"Feels wrong… what would I do without you?" Leaning closer, Erwin tapped the bridge of her nose just as she had done to him last night.
"Hopefully, you'll never have to find out. You said so yourself; thirty is still young, and I have every intention of hitting that milestone and many more besides." She didn't smile the way he'd hoped she would. She just looked up to meet his gaze, staring so deep into his eyes that she could surely see out through the other side.
"You'll come visit me, won't you?"
"Of course."
"For my birthday?" That was less than two months away. The expedition was next week, and three weeks after that, he'd be back at the training camps, trying to coax any of the cadets who might have been on the fence last month. He wasn't expecting nearly as good of a turnout.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. We passed a nice little forest on the way here; we can go there and have a picnic again. Just like old times."
" 'Old times'…" her lips moved, her could feel her breath on his chin, but her voice was silent.
She remained silent as he got up, reluctantly informing her that it was time for him to leave, that it would be well past noon by the time he got back to Trost. Thomasin trailed behind him, each step of her wooden leg echoing loudly in the empty house. He did remember to close the window. As she began shrugging off his jacket, Erwin stopped her with his hands on her shoulders.
"It still gets cold at night. It's not much, but I'd rest better knowing you have something to guard against the chill."
"What about you?"
"If I'm that desperately cold, I have my dress greens." This might motivate him to buy some plainclothes that actually fit. She didn't argue, but she looked so awkward and vulnerable standing there that he honestly wished she would. Sighing, Erwin opened the door, but did not cross the threshold. "I'll visit as soon as I'm able. If you have need of anything- anything at all, no matter how insignificant it might be- do not hesitate to write."
"I won't," she lied in a small voice.
"In fact, write me as soon as you get settled in. I'll forget your address otherwise, and I need it to update my emergency contact information."
"…oh yeah… I forgot about that."
"You'd best not have. I fully expect you to come bearing homemade soup if I get sick." A tiny smile flashed on her face, quick as lightning.
She stepped closer, her movements almost lethargic but without any hesitation as she wrapped her arms around him. At any other time, he might have been somewhat embarrassed by the way she buried her face in his chest, or even excited by how flush she pressed her body to his, but all Erwin could focus on in that moment were her grasping hands clutching at his shirt with the strength and desperation of a drowning man clutching a rope. Bending, he wrapped his arms around her, whispering against her hair.
"I'll be back soon." She made a strained, pitiful noise, and pressed her face harder against him, but after only a few seconds, released her death grip on his shirt and backed away.
Raising a shaking hand, Thomasin wiped away the tears clinging to her lashes, but did not sob or even sniffle. Throwing all his caution to the wind, Erwin took hold of her wrist before she could lower that hand, bending and pressing his lips to the pads of her fingers. He could taste the salt.
"Your birthday, at the latest." Grasping her hand in both of his, he gave it a squeeze. "Don't die before then, Lindemann." Her full, dark lips parted, but it took several seconds for any words to leave them.
"…you either, Smith…" He lowered her hand to her side for her, savoring every millisecond of contact. She leaned against the door frame, watching him leave, but stepped out no further. He had to force himself to stop looking back at her.
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A/N- A whole chapter of relationship fluff? It must be snowing in hell! Seriously, someone please remind me that I started this fic with the intention of it being a romance