(not) your eyes | r. braun

𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗴𝘀

5

A couple days later, Pieck insisted that they should go out for drinks with them. This was really because Zeke had been craving Marleyan wine for years now, especially the ones he started his drinking with.

Being on high alert, you didn't really bother to drink, and Reiner wasn't too persistent on going. However, Pieck begged you to not let her be alone with a drunk Zeke since:

"All he does is blush and tell dad jokes. I feel really bad when I don't laugh at them."

So, there they ended up, everyone's elbows propped up on the bar. Alcohol sits in front of them except for you who drinks a pop from a can with fresh cherries. Zeke and Reiner's faces are notably flushed. Porco and Pieck not so much.

You survey your surroundings, and check every movement of the bartender's hands to make sure nothing suspicious had been happening. It wasn't likely, but four drunk Warriors weren't going to do much in case there was a small, imminent threat.

You watch Reiner, and for the first time realizes that he gets very quiet when he drinks. His hand is in his hair and he looks down at the bar, almost as if something was bothering him.

"You okay?" you ask as you put one hand to his back.

He turns his head when his eyes lock back on you. He only nods in response.

There's a "I think I need another one," that comes from Porco who's flush is becoming more and more pronounced. Everyone agrees with him.

That night, Reiner blew through three bottles of beer with ease. However, he didn't end the night off without asking for a whiskey, and even being as bold to order a margarita and let you have the first sip.

Reiner had some sort of tolerance, but the fit of laughter he kept going into was telling a different story. You didn't mind, though. You liked the sound of his laughter. It felt like a happiness that was lost a while ago.

Of course, Zeke was the one who continuously brought out that laugh with his stupid dad jokes. For some reason, it was even funnier when he talked about how absent his father was.

The bartender motioned to ask if he wanted any more, but you denied it for him.

"No more for you, Reiner. Let's go."

You grab a hold of his arm, realizing that he can somehow still walk fine, aside from some slip ups and wobbles here and there. You wave a bye to everyone.

You start the short walk back to his home, his eyes red and wandering. The silence was fine to you.

"Do you remember when we used to look at the stars?" he asks with a slight slur in his voice, "I wish we could still do that."

"We can Reiner. We have time. Way more than enough time to look at the stars."

When they walked in his home, it was eerily quiet, like no one had touched the floors in years.

"Stay," you say, letting go of him, "I'll look for candles."

"I-I'mm not that drunk, you know."

"Oh. Yeah, I know."

You find a match for the fruity candle, letting it lead the way to his room. It was as empty as it could've been. It looked like his mother had hoped he would come home twelve again.

"You know, I don't think drinking really helps me." His voice comes from behind you.

"Why?"

You turn to see that his eyes are slowly watering. One single tear falls down his face.