Amelia ☾ [L. Ackerman X OC]

Seventy

[WARNING: chapter will talk about hallucinations, ptsd, and suicidal ideation]
A/N: this is the only warning as it pertains to the entire chapter. If you request for another warning here, I can do my best to work with you!

"How're you feeling?" Hange asked with an innate kindness in their alleviating timbre, their ebony pupils intently focused on the indifferent woman before them.

Amelia slowly blinked, the office seemingly cold, the peculiarly low temperature causing her to shudder. The space she observed made her wish Levi were there; she truly longed to be with him.

She shrugged, "I'm somewhat improved, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Hange rose a thin, curious brow, nonchalantly placing their jaw into their palm. Their elbow perched on the edge of their dark brown wooden desk, legs casually crossed on top of each other. They sat directly across from Amelia, the faint, flickering glow of the candle light illuminating their soft features. The orange hue created a sense of hospitality, one that was essential for Amelia in an environment such as this.

"Yeah." She curtly confirmed, minutely squirming from the scrutinizing gaze Hange inadvertently granted.

"What does that mean?"

Levi and I haven't been given chance to discuss our predicament yet either, since we stumbled into Hange, Yeager and the whole squad on the way back. She calculated, but Levi said this was important; I concur, I must be as transparent as I'm adept in order to improve.

"I just want my memories. I'm aware it won't solve everything, I do, but I," she paused, a dreaded, stubborn liquid forming in the rims of her heavy eyes. She sharply inhaled, infatuated with her twirling thumbs on her lap, "I aspire to remember for myself."

"What has to be solved?"

"My emotions." She instinctively replied.

"What're those now?" Hange urged, their chestnut hair astray from the horse riding earlier in the evening. Of course, this wasn't unusual for the rowdy scientist; they often spent the entire night experimenting.