" freedom at last . "
; the second part to
the 'future' imagine
where paradis is at
peace .
----------
"Agh, why'd we have to be the ones to patrol for any leftover titans?" Jean grumbled, unenthusiastically swatting bugs away from his face.
"Dunno, commander's orders," you shrugged, keeping one hand on your holster and the other on the reins of her horse. You'd been a squadron of originally a few other scouts but decided it'd be for the best to split up to cover more ground.
"Commander's orders, my ass. We've been out here for hours and haven't seen any sign of the damn things. We should at least set up camp for the night." He had a twinge of fervour in his words as if he knew that even though there were no titans around, there was still a possibility of an encounter.
"I caught word of an abandoned village a little farther north. we can bunk there for a bit," you suggested, tugging the reins gently to change directions.
"Sounds fine by me. More alone time with you can't hurt," he said lowly.
Even several feet away, his voice still brought a curt rush of warmth to your cheeks.
...
"We can leash the horses up here. Titans won't be able to spot them from afar," you concluded, looping the lead around a rusted pole.
The interior of the run-down cabin still smelled of woodsmoke and sweat from its previous inhabitants. There were gaps in the floor and chunks of food or flesh scattered about - it made your stomach turn.
"Go scout out for some firewood or sticks; I'll make sure the doors and windows are secured in the meantime," you shooed him away while you busied yourself boarding up the windows.
There were a few loose planks outside, hanging from the eaves, along with a rotting bee hive and numerous broken apian exoskeletons. The smell of sweet, lavender honeycomb still lingered in the air.
You plied the wood off the overhang and collected some nails from around the cabin, looking for a hammer to nail them over the windows.
"Jean?" you called, leaning out into the shotgun hallway. When the only response you received was the faint creak of the wood under your feet, you set off on your own to find the tool. You scoured the open rooms, your searching eventing to no success.
"How hard is it to find a damn hammer?" you frowned, leaning back against the wall, but it gave in on itself a little bit as you pressed against it.
A door?
You grabbed the handle beside you and pulled it till the door swung off its hinges. Rotted wood sprayed onto the floor and on your boots. You swallowed thickly and grasped a nail, carefully descending the stone staircase.
There wasn't a light switch to be found, but there was the dull amber glow from a dying forge. Jean must've been down here while you were outside, probably looking for wood for the fire.
There were shelves built against the brick walls, some falling apart while others still stood, sagging under the weight of tools and other miscellaneous items. You rummaged through a carton until your fingers brushed against the split end of a hammer.
"Fucking finally," you grumbled, hooking it up to your belt. as you turned to return up to the hallway, a low, guttural sound rumbled out from behind you.
"Jean?" you muttered, "Is that you?"
The snarl sounded more animalistic than human, and you felt a hand grip your shoulder. It was wet - sticky even, with the consistency of what seemed to be honey.
Or blood.
You gripped the nail tight within your fist and whirled around, coming face-to-face with a titan, its head a few feet short of the ceiling supports. Your blood ran cold as you fell back against the bricks, clenching your teeth in a futile attempt to hush yourself.
The titan slowly advanced towards you, its golden eyes faintly visible in the low-lit room. Right as it was about to launch its attack, it halted. A choked, somewhat pained exhale came from it as its body collapsed. And there stood Jean, pitchfork in hand and breathing heavily.
"The damn bastard got in through the front. Are you alright?" he dropped his weapon and stepped over the body, embracing you against his chest.
"Yeah, I'm... I'm alright. Can't believe I didn't hear it in the hallway," you whispered, guiding your hands up his back. His touch was soft on you as he stepped back and cupped your cheeks in his palms. You swallowed and looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, and painted with desire.
"I know this is supposed to be some romantic moment, but could we please not do this next to a dead titan?"
His face went ever so little red, and he dropped his hands away from you.
"Mm, fine. But we're continuing this upstairs," he murmured, grinning. He turned away and returned up to ground level. You were left, still in a state of soft shock, staring at the titan. What they didn't tell you in the Survey Corps was how awful the decay smelled from up close.
A mix of rotting flesh and some other sour-smelling fumes was the last thing you wanted to inhale. Once you collected yourself, you climbed over the body and backed up the stairs.
As you turned out of the doorway, Jean grabbed you by your collar and roughly pushed you against the wall. he kissed you passionately and roguishly, his body flush against yours.
"Is this better?" he challenged, bringing his lips down to your neck. You bit your bottom lip and nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as he sucked and bit at your skin.
After he got sick of your silence, he went back to your lips and got a bit touchy. As you kissed, his hands found their way to your thighs, waist, chest, and eventually jaw. he pressed against your lips a bit harder before pulling away, wiping the saliva from his mouth.
"God, we should do this more often," he urged with a slight whine in his tone.
"Maybe next time you'll be the one against the wall, hmm?" you placed a hand on his chest and smirked.
"Yeah, yeah, we'll see about that."
