𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑬-𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑹. attack on titan [✓]

𝐕. 𝒌 𝒆 𝒚 𝒔

HIS NAME IS Porco. The Jaw Titan. Your days in Paradis are a little less lonely now that you are with him.

He folds paper boats and sails them on clear-blue streams; he does it only to witness a little shimmer of light in your eyes, a pale blush on your cheeks.

“It's '[Name]'—please, call me by my name.” You tell him one afternoon. Veins of sunlight spill through the tall windows, painting the floor with vibrant tinctures of honey.

Porco then smiles, pressing the keys with his deft fingers, smoothing a melody on the pianoforte.

You are sitting next to him on the bench, arms brushing.

“If I were to write a piano piece with your name as my muse—” The warrior begins to weave a song, using only the good notes.

“You'd sound just like this.”

Millefluent snippets reach your ear. Sweet, delicate. The kind you hear in love songs played back in Marley.

A faint crimson hue then scatters across your face as the melodies resonate through the splits and cracks of the room.

When Porco finishes his piece, he veers towards you, a shy blush on his nose, hungry for your praise. “So... what do you think?”

“It's very beautiful.” You blurt, biting your lower lip, stifling a wide beam that is slowly curling on your mouth. You see his peering orbs brighten—a lovely color of steel-gray. “I love it, Porco—thank you.”

A sudden chill then scrapes your flesh like there are a thousand eyes riveted on the walls of the room—staring at you. They are sickeningly judgemental, beady-eyed, and angry—as if you have done something quite illicit.

Your husband is gone, nowhere to be seen, Eren has left early to some place far away, but you can still feel his teal irises on the back of your skull.

They linger in the shadows, keeping watch.