death do us part

perfection achieved

Being perfect is something everyone must have tried to achieve once in their life. To be perfect, means to feel it, achieve it, to be it.

So when you joined the cadet corps, you joined to be that, perfect.

Perfect for you, meant being perfect to your parents, and your younger brother. As the oldest you had to help your parents, working in the stands selling food with your mother, or with your dad, helping him hunt.

You didn't want that life. You didn't want to be like them. To be working your ass off, everyday, and still be and feel miserable. You'd rather sell your life away.

So when you had announced to your parents that you'd be joining the scouts, well your mother didn't take it well. Whereas your father accepted, meaning he simply shrugged and said nothing.

You kissed your little brother on the cheek that morning, before he woke up. Left a letter to your parents, and left.

The cadet corps was not at all easy. You knew it'd be hard. Tiring, and even mentally draining. Your mental health was shit, even at times thinking about quitting and going home. No one was there for you when you fell on your ass, no one spoke to you.

Until he did.

You were running in circles, outside the barracks. Punishment for waking up late. You had fallen down to the hot ground, the sand stinging your face. You felt like you'd die from a heat stroke.

You felt the hands of someone pulling you back, quickly wiping the sand from your face, as you tiredly opened your eyes to see a brunette boy with freckles. Behind him? A boy whose face looked like a horse.

"Are you okay?!" Marco yelled, holding your cheeks.

"She's obviously fine, she's not dying." Jean said, rolling his eyes.

Already, you didn't like Jean. The way he didn't care about your well being. Even if you weren't friends, why couldn't he care for a fellow cadet?

While, Marco. Oh, you adored him. Instantly becoming friends, always around each other. Waiting for each other before training started, eating breakfast lunch and dinner together.

Wait, I think Jean was there too?

You taught him how to do your hair. Surprisingly, he had asked you to teach him.

It wasn't until he died, that you realized he had done it for you. Finally waking up early just for him to do your hair before training. The result? A nice hairdo and no more punishments for waking up late.

Your hair was never cut. You didn't want to even touch it. It was Marco's hair to touch, his hands to run through. It also felt as if you'd be cutting a piece of him.

When you were ranked in the cadet corps, you didn't even make it top ten, heck not even close to it. You had so much anger, you weren't perfect. Not even close.

But you were perfect enough to suffer, to stay alive. Perfect enough to live through the Battle of Trost, but not Marco. You found out then, that maybe not everyone is perfect in everything.

Or is just luck?

________

"Come on, can't waste time!" You said glancing between Jean and Connie. You didn't look back to see if they were following you, instantly making your way towards the armored Titan.