Dedicate your heart [to me] (Hange Zoë x F!Reader)

Dedicate your heart [to the cause]

"This is it, isn't it?"

You didn't even have to turn your head to see who was approaching you, standing firmly beside you on top of the Wall Maria protecting Shiganshina, facing the dozen dark silhouettes of Titans on the horizon. Still, nearly calm, but restless at the same time.
Threatening. The enormous Beast Titan in their midst towered them all, a slender arm lazily scratching his ear. They observed you and your fellow soldiers like the hunter it's prey. Not quite ready to strike, but watchful of every move.

Goosebumps traveled up your arms, your neck, until it seemed to be tickling your scalp.

"Yeah", Hange breathed, "This is it."

You had trouble catching their words, which nearly got stuck in their throat. Your fingers tightened the grip on the little patch of wings stitched to your uniform jacket; a proof of your service, proof of your devotion. After all these years the emblem was tattered and patchy, the bright colors faded, now painted with dry blood. It was a quite poor attempt of a salute you had tried to offer your Section Commander and for a brief moment shame overpowered the very concise fear controlling your thoughts.

"I wish you

didn't have to go."

Hange barely managed to peel their eyes away from the pages of the book they had been absorbed in for the last few hours as your words shattered the silence. Chocolate colored hair framed their face baring a curious expression. Their 3D maneuver gear had mostly been peeled of their body, straps dangling from their shoulders, softly clinging as they shifted their weight.

"Pardon, what did you say?"

You were aware you had muttered these words under your breath, talking to yourself rather than to your partner sitting on the bed next to you. The only thing separating your bodys was a pile of paper and books and ink you both had been sharing tonight. Finishing your mission reports together had been a habit you wouldn't want to miss anymore.

A blush crept up your neck and the fingers clutching the quill were shaking, resulting in a very horrible execution of your signature on the front page of your last mission's report. Suddenly you had been sucked dry of all the confidence which had caused you to let these words slip in the first place. Suddenly you were not so sure anymore if you really wanted to have this conversation, really wanted to let this rather serious topic dampen the lazy mood, but at the same time you felt yourself going more crazy by the day by bottling it up.

You took a deep shaky breath.

"I said, I wish you didn't have to attend this stupid mission tomorrow", you repeated your words, much more audible this time and dared to shoot the Section Commander a glance, "It smells fishy and I don't like it."
"Now, now, shorty", they cackled, obviously not reading the room and a soft smirk rested on their lips, "Is that distrust in my abilities, that I can hear there?"
"Would you stop calling me that?", you couldn't help but remark, "The Captain wants his nickname back, think of another one."
"But I find it more fitting for this Captain right here."
"I'm not a Captain yet and you know that."
"Won't be much longer though."
"Could you please stop changing the subject?"
With a strong and frustrated lunge you toppled the small tower of documents in between your midst and scattered them on the dirty floor.

Silence.

Your hand, which had been holding the quill until just a second ago, now clenched to a fist. Your heart was close to penetrating and breaking right through your ribcage, if it pounded just a little harder. Eyes focusing the Section Commander, who's face bore a surprised, maybe shocked, expression. Splatters of blue ink decorated their white shirt. The abandoned straps of their gear had slid down their shoulders and onto the mattress.