𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐞. 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

{ thirty-nine } disgusting honesty

      Sasha was wearing a light blue skirt paired with a soft pink shirt tucked into her waist, and a warm brown shall resting comfortably over her shoulders that matched her chestnut-toned boots. Mikasa was wearing a pair of black pants and a white button up shirt with a light brown jacket layered on top. Kira had no other clothes besides her turtlenecks, uniform pants, and her pajamas.

Unfortunately, what was once an outfit that took no additional thought, and blended into any crowd with ease, was now instantly recognizable as 'Faith's Uniform'. She was stuck wearing a long sleeve, cream colored button up shirt and olive green pants that Mikasa said she had in her dresser, with worn-in white boots from Sasha to coordinate with her shirt.

      Kira was taller than the other two girls, which made her wonder how the clothes she was wearing seemed to be decently baggy if they came from Mikasa's wardrobe. She had to fold the waistband of the pants twice to make sure they didn't become a ridiculous embarrassment, and they were still too long. The shirt's shoulders were naturally wider-set so, even with only leaving the top two buttons undone, it still sagged quite a bit to expose her clavicle. Kira couldn't even remember a time Mikasa had worn either of these clothing items, but she and Sasha were somewhat rushed out of Headquarters before she could express her confusion.

      "I've only ever used a pencil," Kira noted, her perplexity continuing to grow at her friend's strange behavior. Mikasa's shoulders had tensed, her gaze flickering from side to side, she was lying about something. "I wouldn't know what the best options are."

      Mikasa brushed it off, leading the three of them through the open markets with her head on an extra attentive swivel. Both Kira and Mikasa kept Sasha in place between them when she tried to pull away at the sight of a man selling his freshly cooked vegetable soups. It was the main reason she was held in the middle of them in the first place.

Kira glanced over at Mikasa as she directed them to one of the only quiet stalls. It was run by an older man, easels and canvases lining his tent. Some of the artwork he had made hung from the top of the tent, all types of colors blended into his framed work.

      "Hello, young ladies," he greeted kindly, smiling. "What can I offer you today?"

      Kira turned to Mikasa, who was glancing around the stall with a shy desperation. There was no way she was trying to get something for herself. That wouldn't add up to her skittish demeanor, nor had Kira ever seen her draw. It was the blush on her friend's cheek that finally gave her intentions away, connecting seamlessly with her behavior throughout the early morning.

      These supplies were meant for Jean Kirstein.

      "I draw," Kira spoke, taking a step forward while thinking back on what tools she'd seen Jean use in his spare time. "Mostly with Charcoal, blending with my fingers, but I'd like to start trying new supplies. What do you suggest?"

      "Such formal speech," the older man chortled as he looked around his stall, going behind one of the sheets that provided a barrier between each booth to grab what he desired. "You from Sina?"

      "Yes," Kira lied. "I'm trying to gain more recognition with the nobles using my art."

      "Good on ya'! Oil paints are popular up there, and I got some of the best in town!" The old man cheered, placing a basket of makeshift containers onto the table that separated the customers from the merchants. There were about a dozen containers, each labeled by color. A cluster of paint brushes rested on top of them, each a different size and shape, held securely together by a leather tie. "Heard bein' an artist is better than bein' a carpenter over there, huh?"