Before I Leave You

what a young girl should not know

This is how you carry your mother's memory of that day.

This is how you survive.

For ten long years you've let them feed your vengeance, keeping your seething rage burning and alive. But there are days — more frequently now than you care to admit — where you wish you could just wake up and not feel anything at all.

—

By the time you make it out your room, your headache still hasn't ceased, and that's as far as you're willing to put up with it.

Had Levi been home he would have made you one of his special tea's he prepares for you for mornings such as these, always leaving it at your bedside table for you to drink when you wake up. But seeing as how there was nothing there for you this morning is enough to tell you he isn't here.

So you go in search of the next best thing.

Making your way down the stairs, you remain grateful for the dark wood paneled walls and dimly lit hallways this place provides. Though it's nowhere near as grand as your family estate in the countryside, it's spacious enough to room Levi, his two most trusted guards, your cadre and you.

Originally, your father had gifted the place to you and your fiancée as an early wedding present. And, given the townhouses from Trost Lane were one of your father's many owned properties across town, he'd provided the house next door to Levi's men and yours as a means for them to keep a close eye on you both, while still granting you with a fair amount of privacy at home.

But with you and Levi always out conducting different business meetings for your father, you hardly ever see your fiancée. You spend more time with your cadre over the course of the day that they're the ones practically living here instead.

As you reach the bottom of the wooden stairs and pass the foyer, you overhear Sasha and Connie arguing from the main dining room table over the last piece of leftover cake from the night before.

Their bickering abruptly stops the second you step into the room, but when you pay them no attention they resume their squabbling.

Albeit, under more hushed tones.

Jean and Historia sit at the far end of the table, talking amongst themselves with — based on the overwhelming smell coming from the kitchen — a freshly brewed coffee in hand.

Jean notices the way your hand presses against your head and grins.

"Morning, sunshine," he teases.

You flip him off and walk past them to cut through to the adjacent room where your mini bar is located and where Mikasa stands on the lookout by the window.

"I need a drink," you grumble. "Where's Levi?"

"With your father," Mikasa informs you, leaving her position to report to you. "His meeting with the suppliers from Marley was this morning."

You hum under your breath as you faintly remember Levi mentioning something similar a few days ago, and of course, as CFO of Ymir & Co, his presence was mandatory.

You're about to take a step towards the bar when Historia appears from the other room carrying a cup of coffee in hand. She offers it to you with a warm, shy smile. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

You wrinkle your nose at the smell, and wave it away with a flick of your hand. The strong roasted smell of it upsets your stomach, but Historia hasn't been with you long enough to know that coffee is the last thing you'd ever drink to get over a hangover.

Turning back to the mini bar, you start rummaging through your collection of scotch, whiskey, and bourbon.

Only to find them all empty.