(not) your eyes | r. braun

𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

2

You shed your pearl trench coat and hand it to a server.

You hope your Marleyan accent won't peak through the new language you learned for the Southern nations.

The leaders of the country will be here tonight, so will the militant ones. These men don't really care about their wives or kids at home. They usually die on the battlefield anyway, so they would never know.

The military leader of a Southern nation was a handsome dark-skinned man. He was young and almost married. He wore a black suit and a bowtie. For being his age, he must be intelligent, so you had to be more than that for him.

They let you remove your armband, and since there would be other nations, you would be able to blend in just fine.

Your dress was a white silk that revealed parts of your back. It was long and wide enough to keep a pistol and a knife strapped around your waist. A slit reaches up to your thigh. With wine in your hand, you stroll over to his blindside. His back turns and knocks into you, making it spill all over your dress, and right down into your collarbone.

"My apologies," he says in his native language, "Allow me to get you a—"

He looks into your eyes and stops his words. Your voice is hypnotizing...

"It's okay, sweetie. It's only white wine," you say with a giggle. You need to get him alone.

"I-I can show you," He puts his glass down and shows his teeth. "I own this place, I know where the towels are."

It was even easier than you could've imagined.

He takes your arm and drags you to a large bathroom up some stairs. There was a basket of fresh white towels with the initial "H" on them. He grabs one like he is picking out the freshest fruit for you to eat.

"For you, madam," he says and hands it to you.

"Thank you."

"Your eyes are a beautiful shade, miss," he says as you pat yourself dry. One of the straps on your dress slips off your shoulder as you do this.

This bathroom was a good area to finish this mission. He only strides closer, invading the air you were breathing. Your head whips around to find the door. You were lucky, this man was easy. The towel was thrown over your shoulder. You lock the bathroom door. Simultaneously, you reach inside your dress for the pistol.

As you turn around, you point it to him, but he is already holding one pointed towards you.

"Oh, Dean," you say, still not breaking character, "Why would you want to shoot me?"

"I don't. I think a scar would ruin you."

"It'll take more than that for me to be ruined."

In a swift move, you found your knife and threw it towards him as he pulled the trigger.

But no bullets came out.

The knife stabbed his shoulder as he groaned and fell to the ground against the wall. Blood began to run down his suit jacket. He groans in more pain, fighting himself to pull it out.

"Let's make this nice and easy, okay?" You walk over and point the gun at his head. "Where do you keep your files?"

His breath is ragged. "What's it to you?"

"I want to know, just in case I need it."

"Yeah," his breath chuckles out, "Sure you do beautiful. You just want all of my military information... Well, I'll tell you that I have nothing. I am new to this whole commander thing and all of my documents are kept somewhere else."

You roll your eyes dramatically.

"Of course I know that. The same way I know you wouldn't check your gun when you took it because it was your "old reliable". The same way I would know your wife Marissa would freak out if you saw you walk another woman to the bathroom. 'My wife is crazy' you would say. It's just the same way I would know that you're not even married to her."

"So you can find those documents yourself, what do you need me for?"

"You have a key. Give it to me."
"You don't need me alive."

"I don't want to kill you. "

It was true, you didn't care if he died or not. You just wanted to spark fear in the stories that would get passed down. After this encounter, you would need to kill your targets.

Luckily, this would be the last one until the Warrior(s) came back home. You're hopefully put on hold.

"Give me a tip and I'll spare you a gunshot. Give me the key and I'll spare you two," you say, gun still pointed at him.

"Now, you're just playing with me, princess. Do what you want, I have an army to lead."

❧

"I kind of feel like I'm always going to die. I don't get any special treatment for the thousands of tips that I've given them."

The stars fill up the night sky almost completely. You and Reiner had been talking for an hour.

As shivers and hunger passes your again, Reiner takes his sweater off and gently puts it over your shoulders. You still don't look at him but mutters "thanks" in return.

"There wasn't a moment where I thought that you were better off at home."

You turn to give him a sincere look.

"There's no way I will be able to fight alongside you anymore. You know that, right?"

"It sucks, but I won't judge your choice."

"That yellow armband doesn't mean anything to me. The red one maybe, but the color yellow does nothing if I don't get a titan," you say, "I need to become an Honorary Marleyan, and I need to do it during this war."

❧

You go outside in search of the sounds that he heard in his sleep. He rubs his eyes in annoyance. The door opens to a crying and snotty-nosed boy. He was only ten.

"Pock, honey it's time to sleep," you said gently to him, "You are single-handedly keeping us all awake."

Today, the warriors were given their titans. This was the day that Porco's anger began to spiral. From here on, he would be impossible to talk to.

You sniffled from yourself. It was too dark to see the red in your eyes.

"I know why you're crying, Pock," you say, "But, it's over now."

"I should've gotten that titan," he whispers softly. His anger pierces through.

"I know," you don't believe your own words.

That elicits more tears from him. His hand covered his mouth to try and muffle the sobs.

You bend down to sit next to him, his gaze goes directly to the back of your ear, where a piece of gold is wrapped around your helix.

"I know it hurts."

Your hand comes up to his back and rubs gently.

"I wonder why they didn't choose us," you say in the silence.

You didn't care about their choice against Porco, he was a baby. What you did consider was their choice against yourself. Porco lays his head on your shoulder.

His tears take forever to subside.