AOT Oneshots

Eruri ~ Beautiful

Is this beautiful?

I face myself in the mirror, dressed in only my military issue pants. My torso is pale, ribs showing through my skin, scars crisscrossing it like a roadmap. My hands shake and I clench and unclench my fists. My eyes are half lidded and tired looking, dead. Thin lips in a permanent indifferent scowl. Messy, dull black hair from too long without a cut.

Is this beautiful?

No. This is not beautiful. It never was. From the moment I was born into this world, I was ugly. Inside and out. How can one not be ugly in a world which is the same?

Some people are beautiful. Inside and out.

That isn't true either. I thought my mother was beautiful once. She came the closest, out of everyone I've ever known. But she had scars inside. She was mutilated in her heart.

I am mutilated too.

I am the ugliest person I know. Not just because of my appearance. I am ugly inside. I have unhealable scars. I have terrible truths covered with pretty lies. I have secrets hidden so far into my heart that even I can't find them.

There must be something in this world that is beautiful.

I know the truth, though. Nothing is beautiful. Not truly. I am sick of these words. Ugly. Beautiful. Why have words for things that cannot be defined?

So why do you continue to live in a ugly world?

Because beauty is addicting. Because creating a bit of it in this world and seeing it glimmer through the grime of despair is the ultimate high. Because I am drunk on creating beauty for others.

Some things are beautiful. Like love.

Maybe this is true. Maybe some love is beautiful. But when two people fall in love, the ugliness of one takes away the beauty of the other. They are lucky if they end up with a sliver of prettiness left.

You are in love. And it is beautiful.

I am in love. And it is ugly. It is more pain than it's worth. We are both ugly. We are both terrible. We are devils. But devils cannot fall in love with angels. So who have we, but one another? I don't know if we will have beauty left, in the end. When our good and bad have waged war and the survivors are determined.

But for now, you have seen the beauty in love.

Yes. I have. And I am addicted. To everything about him. To his smile. To his strong will. To everything, even the ugly parts. Because everyone is more beautiful than me.

You can change that.

No. I cannot. I am too far gone. The black oil of ugliness has stained me. No matter how much I try to wash it off, I will never be clean. So I try to make everything around me spotless. But I will always be this way.

There is hope.

I believe that gaining hope is a myth. A rumor made for those without it. People who have hope, have it, and those who don't, don't. I do not have hope. I never will.

He gives you hope.

Maybe that's true. Maybe I had hope inside me all along. Maybe I just couldn't unlock it. But I wouldn't know. What does hope feel like? Does anyone know?

Hope is...

Hope is watching a rainstorm through the window. Hope is the first ray of warm sunshine in spring. Hope is your favorite food on the table. Hope is the smell of fallen leaves. Hope is...

Hope is beautiful.

The voice inside me pronounces this finding with an echoing certainty. I am taken aback. I do suppose I have hope. So do I have beauty?

Yes. You have beauty. Hope. A reason to live. Love. And him. All of it. It is beautiful.

Ugly

Ugly

U̶g̶l̶y̶ Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.