Listen and Save! [AoT X Sabrina Fair]

To Reach for the Moon

It was a bright summer afternoon, and the Yeager estate was alive with activity. The gardens were once again covered in a vast array of exorbitant decorations— bunting, fairy lights, patterned gazebos, and elaborate bouquets.

It seemed a party was in order.

Eren was lounging in the shade, watching the servants dart about, hanging streamers and placing table mats.

"Hey." Zeke was behind him, nursing a whiskey and dressed as if he was going to attend a funeral instead of his stepmother's birthday party.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Drove out with Carla— if I have to be here for her birthday party, might as well stay over."

"Yeah? What'd you get her?"

"Portable fax machine."

Eren grinned. Classic Zeke. "You sentimental fool."

"Hey, it's easy for you. She's so glad you finally set a date; you'll never have to buy another present."

"That's not what she says," Eren replied, standing up with a stretch. "I got her a little Picasso. I'm having it wrapped in town."

Zeke turned to him accusingly. "What did that cost me?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "...So, who's the new bidder on Ackerman? Unisat?"

"...And a couple of other companies."

"Cash or stock options?"

A genuine smile graced Zeke's lips as he slung a teasing arm over Eren's shoulder. "I love it when you talk dirty." They settled into easy laughter.

At that moment, a flash of white scuttled over the lawn with a maid right behind. "Come back!" she exclaimed as the dog disappeared around the corner.

"What's that?"

"A dog," said Eren, finding a little amusement in his brother's affronted expression.

"Why?"

"Ah, it's Mikasa's gift to mother. She feels guilty about missing the party— she's stuck at some UCLA seminar." He moved to head into the mansion, "I gotta go pick up Carla's present," then turned back again. "I want you to know something, Zeke— I'm glad about Mikasa."

Zeke smiled. "You should be. She's terrific. Smart, independent— pretty as hell."

Eren scoffed. "Why don't you marry her?"

"Go on."

"I'm kidding. Kidding." With a wave, he was gone into their grand house.

<>

The photographer stood waiting at the bus stop, bags at her feet, and completely unrecognisable as the chauffeur's daughter. What once had been awkward and grease-smeared had blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

Clad in an elegant Parisian pant-suit, lips painted rouge, hat and sunglasses shielding her face from the noon-day glare, the photographer smiled broadly as she gazed around the home town she had missed so much. It was all as it had been.

But his car was there. The red lacquer she had polished a hundred times over. Eren. Eren was-

Eren was crossing the road. A packaged painting under his arm, he was hurrying towards that bright red sports car. He stopped mid-street, momentarily mesmerised by the beautiful Parisian woman standing at the bus stop. Only a car nearly knocking him clean off his feet broke him from his trance.