𝑗𝑜𝑏 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 ᶠˡᵒᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳˢᵗᵉʳ

two.

two, the way to a woman's heart?

There was a knock on the door.

[Reader] stopped getting ready, placed the shirt she planned on wearing on the bed, and fastened the ribbon of her robe. The attire would have to be enough for the moment, as whoever was knocking had become insistent on having her attend them. She sighed at the unexpected start to her supposed casual day and went to open the door. If it even was possible, her shoulders slumped further once she saw who had been so adamant to have her attention.

"What? " She asked Floch when he didn't respond.

He was wearing military attire like usual, as she knew him to be. He was unchanging. It occurred to her that she had rarely seen his face shift from the stern expression he always wore.

Before he had a chance to greet her, some other officers at post passed by, and Floch straightened his shoulders. "Morning, Yeager."

[Reader] rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she whispered harshly.

He refrained from relishing in her expression and dug into his pocket.  "I have a letter for you from Zeke."

She looked him up and down— from his face to the crisply folded paper and back up. "Okay? Couldn't that have waited 'til later?"

She grabbed the letter nonetheless and ripped at the seal. Floch stopped her.

"Not here," he warned. "Let's go back in."

———— ‧₊˚✞ . ˚

"Eren, titans, Eren's titan, something about Marley... and more Eren." [Reader] dismissed the letter with a sigh. "This is nothing new. It's like I'm having a conversation with him in person. What's so important about this?"

She scanned over Zeke's scraggly handwriting one last time and shifted to the redhead that scoured her room. He was distracted as he observed the small touches of decor she had placed to make the room seem more of hers than just a standard military bunk unit. From little things like flowers she had found scattered on the grounds to more personal things like her art. If he were to round the room to the corner of her closet, he would have gotten a glimpse of her unfinished self-portrait. For some reason, she grew restless at the thought of having anyone see that, most particularly him.

"Floch?" She called out to him quickly. To her relief, the sound of his name had finally caught his attention. "What is the purpose of this?"

Floch watched as she vaguely gestured to the paper in her hands and shrugged. "I wasn't given any reason for the meaning of the letter. I am just the middle man."

"Okay." [Reader] stood and went to pick out a pair of pants. "Then let's leave. I was gonna head out anyway."

His hands went into his pocket and silence fell about the room again. It was rare for him to have so little to say, so [Reader] turned to see what had been the cause. She saw him step in time to prevent her from leaving the room.

"You can't. Not today."

The assertiveness of his tone caught her off guard and caused her to abruptly yank at the clothes she was digging from the closet. It wasn't a rare thing to have someone assigned to watch over her from the outside of her room, but it had never been someone she once called a friend. She tried to keep her voice still as she reacted.

"I was just going to head to the common area to read. Nothing more." When he didn't respond, she felt the flutter of anger greet her in heat. "What am I, a fugitive? Do I need to be kept under such a tight leash?"