CIRCLE (Hange Zoe x fem Reader)

⋄ ⊱ ACT TWO: Wine And Sweet Nothings ⊰ ⋄

⋄ ⊱ ACT TWO ⊰ ⋄

Wine and Sweet Nothings

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

You don't know exactly where you're headed, and perhaps it isn't the smartest idea to avoid asking, yet the feeling of the Commander's chest pressed against your spine is enough to keep your lips pursed in a tight line.

You've never rode on horseback, and for your first time being alongside Commander Hange, it doesn't aid the nerves arising within you. Though they try their best to grant you personal space, the saddle of a horse only gifts so much. Your hands grip the lip at the front of the leather saddle, holding tightly and watching the color of your knuckles lighten at the taut pressure. The Commander's hands however lie at either side of your body, taking hold of the lead as they guide you to your unknown destination.

The moment you reach the mystery you travel towards, the nerves you feel become insurmountable compared to the nerves of being so close to the Commander.

Trost headquarters has always been a background scene in your life. Growing up in the district, you had only ever gone up to the gate a few times as a child. Now, you enter the gates which open at your arrival. Watching the soldiers manning the iron bow in respect to the Commander, only to focus on the grand doors opening at your approach.

⋄ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ⋄

"Please, make yourself comfortable."

But your feet stay glued to the ground as you take in the room.

Large and walled off with four corners. Stone bricks layered atop each other that compose the barriers. Above hangs an intricate chandelier, the candles lighting it are fresh and tall. Although everything has a wealthy, detailed appearance, there's a simplicity that lies beneath the facade. A lounge fitted with red silk that awaits as you walk into the room. A simple wooden low table taking rest before it. The bed is large, puffy sheets and a mass of pillows all neatly tucked into the bed frame directly behind that lounge and a red brick furnace built into the left wall. The only thing adding clutter being that of the bookshelf on the right wall where novels overflow from its shelves along with a collection of miscellaneous items.

You stand and watch as the Commander moves from the door after locking it shut, immediately sitting down along the lounge in front of you to begin the tedious task of unstrapping the boots from their feet. As they do, they look up to you, taking note of your frozen limbs and chuckling as they slide one shoe off.

"It's alright to relax," They begin, moving to the other boot still attached to them, "I don't bite."

And you try your best to allow yourself that relaxation, to ease the tension building in your muscles as you stand in their room. But you watch as they arise after pulling off their last shoe as their hands move to slip it off their coat. The moment you catch the white button up underneath their uniform, you feel as if your limbs have permanently cemented.

With their attention focused on themself, you observe them closely. That white shirt is tucked into the belt of their trousers, though after they toss their coat over the backrest of the lounge their hands begin unbuckling the latch.

It feels like an invasion of privacy - watching the Commander undress from their uniform - yet you can't look away. Even as your mind screams at you to stop, you continue to watch as they pull the belt from its loops, tossing it over their coat before practically tossing themself just the same onto the lounge with a sigh.

Before you can look away, to hide the fact that you had been staring, they catch you in your awe.

"I apologize, Commander." you tell them, looking down to your feet, though the skirt you wear hides them from view.