A Beautiful Façade┃Reiner X Reader

Chapter 13: Red and Green

It's a relatively calm Tuesday afternoon. You and Reiner came home from work a mere two hours ago and now you are in bed reading the newspaper, assuming he is in the kitchen readying dinner.

"Y/N," he calls out from the other side of your bedroom door. "Need a minute."

With little reluctance, you place the paper down and head out of the room, meeting a calm Reiner in the kitchen. His back is to you as he looks through the cabinets curiously.

"What's wrong?" you ask bluntly.

Noticing your arrival, he turns to face you fully, shining a tedious expression. "I was going to make some soup but we're out of pumpkin. Fancy a trip to the market?"

"You want me to do your little bidding?" you ask, raising an eyebrow to cement the sarcastic intentions. "Right. If you need it so bad, you go."

"I was asking you to go with me," he reaffirms, seemingly irritated by that response.

You're surprised by that. It seems... almost like he's asking for a date. The pause you take to think is clearly too long for him.

"Okay, sorry for asking. I'll go by myself."

He turns to leave and you take his arm, clinging onto the sleeve in a fast, thoughtless movement.

"Stop it, will you?" you say in a sharp voice. "I didn't say no, did I?"

Looking back at you, Reiner's expression seems perplexed.

You let go of his arm and approach the bedroom door as you speak. "Just need my shoes. Be with you in a minute."

***

The buildings clamber together, forcing their way onto the path as if truly attempting a fight of dominance. With the smallest of units to abandoned blocks used for squatters, there's not much dignity in the ghettos of Liberio. The wild flush of people running around, moving from haphazardly constructed market stall to haphazardly constructed market stall each for the same criteria. Same brown or beige clothes, same dejected expressions and same armbands.

As the two of you stroll through the cramped area, you cant kept but judge each and every pedestrian. From the mothers trying to keep their wailing babies at bay, to the old folk staggering from place to place, to the children excitedly cutting through crowds to get to any stall selling shallow entertainment, all look so unbelievably readable. This is the true culture of being a island devil. Terrible utilities, ghettos and barely any room to live.

"Silent?" asks Reiner, his voice dim.

You answer, not bothering to catch his gaze, "you are as well."

"Fair." He pauses. "Anything you'd like?"

"Just some spices. No offence -actually, full offence- but you really need to get more creative."

"Or, you could cook."

You chuckle boldly, as if his words are in some way comedic. "Screw that."

Cutting into your conversation abruptly is an unmistakably young voice. It calls out with an excitable tone from behind, issuing a cheerful, "Reiner!"

You turn your head with caution, gaze quickly falling upon a small girl.

She has a small frame, looking to be about nine or ten, with the harshly war-torn expression that seems to directly contrast that. With eyes big and emotional, brows raised up and creases around her mouth, her widely happy grin almost looks cunning; malicious.

She speeds up to you and Reiner without any lack of energy, and stands before him with her arms outstretched. As she moves, she states aloud, "you're really here!"