better now | pieck finger

two

Evening sunlight streams in through translucent curtains as a boy humbly sleeps under thin duvets. The patterned rise and fall of his chest accompanied by the slight breeze through picture windows make up the perfect evening—it's the perfect breather, and you wouldn't love it in any other way.

After takeoff, Porco immediately ushered you through the run-down hallways of the temporary inn to search for Reiner's room. The inn is one of Marley's medical facilities that took refuge in the rickety buildings by the harbor as soldiers were brought in and out for treatment during the war, and after the battle, in which your superior officers declared the defeat and lost of the Armored Titan, Reiner Braun, its current inheritor, was brought to the makeshift facility to get some rest.

And currently, you sit at the foot of Reiner's bed to keep an eye on him as Porco drowns himself in paperwork. You're somewhat convinced that this is the reason why the blond wanted you here in the first place—apparently, he has a workload to finish, and although you're quite upset that he might not have actually wanted your company, you still think it's better than being put on cleaning duty.

You hum a melodious tune, impromptu, as you busy yourself with reading a light novel that Pieck once gave you to read. Fantasy and historical fiction—not your cup of tea, but Pieck knew of your exploratory tendencies, hence the small gift she had given. As you flip through another page, you're suddenly disturbed by a yelp.

"Wait!"

You jump in your seat as Reiner jolts awake. Covered in sweat, he grips the thin cotton blanket on his feeble frame as he does a poor job in hoisting himself up. Porco snickers from his seat and momentarily stops writing before going back to it.

"You seemed like you were having a funny dream," he comments, still munching on his club sandwich as he maintains eye contact with the document in front of him. "That's why I didn't wake you up."

You discard the novel then kneel beside the blond's bed to aid him. You glare at your friend.

"Don't be mean, Porco."

"Don't call me that."

"(Y/N), it's okay," Reiner croaks, dismissing your thought as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. You hand him a paper towel and he gratefully takes it into his hold, afterwards leaning on the headboard per your instructions. He tosses the towel into the trash bin, then faces Porco to greet him a good evening. "I still haven't thanked you for that time, Galliard... thank you for saving me."

"You don't need to thank me. I wasn't even saving you," the boy retorts. "I was saving my homeland, Marley, from your flub of losing the Armored Titan."

"Porco..."

"This wouldn't have happened if only I was the chosen candidate." he exhales painfully slow, then holds his glare on the window sill as he avoids to meet eyes with the man. "If so, then my younger brother would've been alive for the operation... what did you even do on that island? Did somebody else keep saving you?"

Silence falls, then Reiner mumbles a "yeah."

Porco turns around and lets his arm rest on the head of the chair. "I saw you within Ymir's memories. You looked like a guy that everyone depended on... it felt as though you were imitating my brother."

Then, Reiner shuffles in his seat and inches himself to sit by the edge of the bed. He lets his feet meet the icy floorboards and his arms come in contact with his thighs, bracing them as he slightly leans forward and stares down—despairingly—at the ground.

"You're right, Galliard."

Porco's breath hitches.

"Everything you said... is true."