Amelia ☾ [L. Ackerman X OC]

Sixty Eight

☽☽☽

Levi.

I'm sorry.

She trudged further, catching an unfortunate glance of her tiny tethered stature in a passing window panes. The glass reflected her poor appearance, her pearl button down and white pants nearly monochromatic. The thick brown belt around her waist broke this matching pair. The pads of her fingers grazed the green cloak that wrapped over her shoulders, Amelia bringing the fabric closer, as if it would somehow extraordinarily transfer heat to her trembling frame.

The soft fabric was oddly soothing, miraculously increasing her resolve to travel onward. Her steps were clearly unbalanced and sloppy, chocolate bangs sticking to her forehead from the thin layer of sweat that coated her. It seemed the stealthily exit wasn't quite the easy route she anticipated, the journey longer than she remembered.

Perhaps she should've taken Isabel, but the idea hadn't sat well with her; she had no desire to steal from the Scout Regiment, given that being one of the only veteran soldiers left yielded an extensive, loyal history with them. With Hange in charge, she definitely hadn't wished to partake in such deplorable affairs.

Thus, she walked, alone.

Amelia wandered through the empty town, wealthy, noble families regathering in the comfort of their houses for the night. It was ironic; reminded her of all those years before. She hung her head, ebony pupils intently stuck to the crevices and the individual shadows they cast along the track she roamed.

No apology I grant will ever be sufficient enough.

Still-

The broken soldier clenched her jaw, stubborn tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She tightly grasped the emerald cloth, desperately seeking some form of solace for the guilt, burdensome pangs in her chest.

I'm sorry.

That I couldn't be who you needed, or deserved.

And even if my memories do return, that wouldn't make everything magically cease.