The End (Crimson Roses) (AOT Eren x OC)

Chapter 2

The sky is dark when we return to the headquarters. I lock up the horses and go inside to be greeted by the comforting darkness of the large open room that spans to the rest of the headquarters. The crooked steps creak softly as I try my best to sneak up quietly to the extra bedroom just three rooms down the hall. I open the large wooden door and there I see Levi sitting in the large red armchair, placed in the far-right corner, reading the book from on top of my nightstand.

He glances up at me, "So, you made it back." I nod in response as he looks back down at the worn-out book.

I stand in the doorway and lean my hand against its frame, "You should get some sleep tonight."

He shrugs in response, "I don't feel like sleeping tonight." He says in his monotone voice, showing little to no emotion, per usual.

"I don't think it's a matter of if you feel like it but more of if you have the time and if you have time to read a book then you have time to sleep." I smile to myself, there's nothing he can say that could prove me wrong!

Levi glares up at me from his book then continues reading.

"You know, lack of sleep can make you shorter are more irritable" I say triumphantly.

He stands up and slams the book shut, he then starts to walk over to me. I look up at him and shrink back as I stare into his eyes, glaring sharpened daggers at me, he then softens his expression a bit and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Then how come you're 155 cm tall and sassy as hell, yet it takes the entire population to wake you up?"

I open my mouth to say something but I can't think of any comebacks. Levi smirks a bit wider and walks out of the room. "Goodnight, captain" I call teasingly. Levi slows his pace, "night." He calls back, his usual tone, thought there is a slight warmth to it.

. . .

The still air completes the scene; a young woman and a little boy lying down on the splintered wood, a trail of blood winding through the cracks.

"I'm sorry..." a little girl hides in the corner, clutching a small knife to her chest. Her jet black hair is now stained the most gruesome shade of crimson red. She is unable to remove her eyes from the bodies lying before her; their lifeless eyes forever echoing though her scattered memories.

Who were these people? Where did they come from?

All she knew is that they're dead; and it's all because of her.

The distant sound of shouts and screams fill the air, people try to touch her, to help her, but she shoves them away.

Why are they trying to hurt me? She had thought. She didn't know it quite yet, but there was a lingering feeling that she may end up just like the little boy. Her end couldn't come soon enough.

. . .

I sit up quickly, clutching the white bedsheets. I put my hand to my forehead and feel the warm sweat trickles down my face. It was just a dream; it was just a dream.

It was just a dream.

I glance around the room, but it is just as I'd left it the night before, the off-white curtains are lazily hung over the window and the desk is piled high with papers and books. I pull back the soft blankets and stand up on the old wooden floor. I look at my reflection in the mirror; my long, wavy hair is tangled in knots and damp with sweat. I look closely at my reflection, my blue eyes are red and I have tears running down my cheeks. I was crying? When? I hurriedly wipe away my tears and brush my hair before I get dressed and run downstairs to meet up with the others.