Trust ~ Jean Kirschtein x Reader/OC

CHAPTER ONE ~ No Time to Rest

I dig my fingers into the damp, wooden window sill as I rock back and forth on my bare feet, failing to get used to the bitter coldness of the floorboards beneath them. I'm trying to get my body moving again, in preparation for anything else that could appear out of the blue; I guess I am overthinking, and I'm no longer used to having periods of time where nothing big happens. I'm now trained to always be ready, every second of the day, necessary or not.
I have the urge to properly stretch every muscle in my body, pushing the limits on how my body can bend. Doing that was something I've always loved to do, it makes me much more agile - or so I think - and it can creep people out. But right now, I'm still trying to make the most of my stagnancy, healing as best as I can for upcoming exhibitions; so I remain by the window, bending and flexing the joints in my knees, frankly bored out of my mind.

The sunlight that streams in through the window warms my skin and causes my hair to shine a bright gold colour, freshly cleaned and soft from previously being coated in blood. It was still down, out of my usual style, which was very rare. The pale blue ribbon is still tied securely around my wrist, which also glows in the sun, and every glance I take fills me with a little extra sadness each time; especially after finding that little girl, Corina, who was just like Simone inside and out.
I heave a heavy sigh, bending one knee at a time as I stare out the window. No one had been in my room since yesterday, so earlier I decided to put on a fresh shirt over the top of my bandaged torso, paired with an olive green skirt that came to around mid-calf. This means that some of the scars that tear their way across my right leg are now quite visible - as long as I didn't look at them for too long and no one came to see me, it was okay. But the thought of someone springing into my room suddenly still lingers in the back of my mind, so much so that I've planned out what I'd do if that were to occur. When I hear someone approaching in the hallway, I get back into the bed and cover myself with the blankets. Easy. It is far fetched, but I hated how they looked and I would hate for anyone else to notice or question them.

Even though I'd been alone for hours, I hadn't slept. I tried my best to, but no matter how much every inch of my body craved it, I couldn't fall asleep. So I spent my time just thinking, either sitting on the bed or looking out the window, trying not to get too bored.
I can't bear the fact that people worry about me so much, along with their own concerns. Each person I talk to has their own issues, and somehow they end up in my messes or concerned about me; so I decide to make an - agreement - of sorts with myself. Yes, I can have things happen to me, but I can't let it hold me back like it has before, and I can't have other people constantly being cautious around me. People have their own things to worry about, and I know that deep down, I'm in the way.
Zariya clearly only told me a small part of her life considering she actually does have parents, I don't know too much about Monique's, and I know nothing of anyone else's. Not to mention the crawling feeling of disgust I have for myself when I remember breaking down on the ground right in front of everyone. I am ashamed of myself, even more than I was before.

As I dig my fingernails further into the wood of the windowsill, staring blankly out into the brightly lit streets by the early morning sun, I realise I could be blowing my whole pact completely out of proportion. Am I overthinking this? Am I being that much of an issue?
I shake my head, regardless, I should stick to this. There are clearly things bigger than everyone out there, so I can't let everything interfere. I should stop getting distracted all the time - and I should also stop crying. People will think I'm not strong enough to be here. Or maybe they're right...

I don't realise how deep in thought I am until someone swings open my door, bursting into the room loudly. I practically jump out of my skin and spin around, wide eyed with a shocked expression, to find who just came in. Armin stands frozen in the doorway, panting as if he just ran here, urgency painted across his face.
"Wall Rose has been breached," Is all he says, his voice slightly broken with panic.
It feels as though seconds turn into minutes, "what?"
My heart beats so hard in my chest it makes my already-injured back hurt and head throb.
"We need to leave. Now," he orders.
"Wait- what's happening?" I ask, trying to disguise most of my panic, even though I become increasingly aware of it as it pulses through my veins. I twist my fingers so tightly together that the tips of them start to go a purple colour, bending as if they are contortionists.
"I'll explain it later, maybe. Just get in your uniform and find me downstairs," he says somewhat calmly

Some yelling comes from outside my window, and I immediately snap back around, still very confused about the situation and trying to grasp what is going on. I lean partially onto the windowsill, pressing my head against the cool glass, searching the ground a few metres below me, which is covered with people and scouts, each person spreading panic as if it's contagious. It was getting louder, as Armin comes and stands beside me, looking out the window as well.
My gaze drifts up the wall in the distance, noticing something very out of place planted on it.
"What is that?" I point at it, pressing my finger up against the glass now too.
"Oh, uh," Armin steps back from me and the window, "behind it... i-is a titan."
"A what?!" I partially yell.
"There's a huge titan in the wall," he says.
I lean my back against the wall and put one hand onto my forehead, the other supporting me, feeling quite breathless, "oh. That's new."
How is that even possible?! There was no damage or breach, right? There's no way we could've missed something as big as that... but how is it just in the wall? Are there more titans in the walls and we just never knew?

I look up at Armin again, expecting him to keep giving me more context, but I notice his gaze as he stares straight at my right leg. His eyes are wide and his mouth slightly hangs open with what I suspect is horror. For a moment I'm confused, but as I bend down to look as well, it suddenly clicks; he's looking at all the scars on it that stretch and bend and morph my skin into something that is utterly disgusting and mortifying to think about. My heart practically sinks right to my stomach as I sweep my left leg right over it, trying to play it off as nothing.
He looks up at me with so many questions swimming in his ocean eyes, which feels like they are suffocating me, drowning me. The pace my pulse is going creates a racket in my ribcage, please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask.
He opens his mouth and stutters, "what hap-"
"What? Nothing! It looks worse than it is, I promise. Just childhood things. I need to get ready, don't I? You should probably tell others about this too," I ramble, laughing slightly, out of breath.
"But-"
"Don't worry about it."
"Okay," he sighs, and turns towards the door again.

He walks quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him, which whines on its hinges. I'm left alone to my thoughts again, but under much more uncertainty than before. As my heart calms down, my eyes dart across the room to my clean uniform, laid out smoothly on the end of the bed over the wooden frame. Someone came to deliver it earlier, leaving it at the foot of my door in the hallway. I never got to thank whoever it was for it.
Once I can't hear Armin's quick footsteps anymore, I hit a closed fist against my forehead; I feel absolutely awful that he had to see that, and even more appalled at how I handled it. I made it so obvious, but I guess what else could I do? Even I, myself, ignore the fact that they are there most of the time; let alone anyone else facing it suddenly, unexpectedly. I can't even begin to imagine how he feels - grossed out, maybe, since over the years they have stretched and created small indents in my skin.
"Nothing! It looks worse than it is, I promise. Just childhood things," I mock myself, striding over to my uniform.
As I pick up and fiddle with the tangled assortment of belts and straps, my heart skips a beat: what if he tells someone?
No, maybe, he understood that I didn't want to talk about it! Hopefully... he doesn't tell anyone... especially those who have the shortest summary of my home in Shiganshina or the smallest hint of the injuries. Am I overreacting? Is it that bad if people know? Whatever, just get dressed quickly.