Zombie Fodder(Riren/Ereri)

A Blank Canvas

(AN: There's smut in this chapter, but it's not as detailed as the other. This is mostly a filler chapter with a bit more information on Eren's past. Enjoy!)

After a week of just sitting and "recovering", I was about ready to throw myself over the upstairs railing. And I'm not even kidding. I was itching to pick up a pencil and paper, so I did.

When I went on that run to town with the Levisquad, remember the bookstore? Yeah, I kinda forgot that I also shoved a sketchbook and a pack of charcoal pencils in my duffle.

Bertholdt and Reiner had fallen asleep while cuddling, leaving me without entertainment. Some babysitters they were. With a huff, I grab the sketch pad and pencils, before leaning against the wall.

It's been awhile since I've picked up a pencil, but it still fills me with warmth and actual joy. That's why I chose to turn it into a career. They say that if you do what you love, you won't work a day in your life.

My first project was going to be my awful babysitters. They may be bad babysitters, but they make up for it by being so picture-worthy. I start with a rough sketch and body outlines, having them lying on their sides, with Bertholdt curled into Reiner's chest.

Then, I work on the finer details and clothing. Since I only have charcoal pencils, I won't be able to color in the sketch, but that's okay. This is what I've been missing.

I just needed to get back into a familiar routine. Finished! Wanna see? Erasing the remaining pencil marks, I touch up and add smaller details to finish the piece.

Art is like riding a bike. You never really forget it, but you have to find your balance again. You get better with practice. There's no telling where I got this talent, but I'm glad I have it nonetheless.

Mom would sit and watch me draw when I was younger. She had a beautiful voice that I also inherited, but... I just couldn't after she passed. It felt like when her voice was silenced, so was mine and I've yet to find it.

Turning the page to a clean sheet, I get to work and let my fingers do the work. I missed mom everyday and I doubt that will ever go away, so maybe I should just embrace it.

My eyes were glazed over in thought, but my pencil still traveled nimbly across the page. I didn't need to see the page to know what I'd chosen to draw next.

A feminine outline in a rocking chair came into view. Then, a smaller outline sitting in the woman's lap. The dress I fit on her was one of her favorites... A pale purple sundress with yellow and magenta flowers.

The child in her lap had short, cropped hair and large, wide eyes that stared up at her caring face. Her hair fell to her shoulder in thick waves, but only a strand fell onto her face.

It was a picture of my mother, holding me in her lap as we rocked in the rocking chair. I had even managed to capture the maternal care in her facial features and my wide, mystified eyes.

Her voice always left me speechless and close to tears. There was a certain tragic beauty in the way she sang and I wish you could've heard it too. I kinda want to see the look of shock you'd have while listening..

The day passed in a blur of sketch after sketch, only remembering to eat when Bertholdt handed me a fruit cup and some jerky. They were called to help Hange with something, so I got back to work.

My current piece was something I couldn't fully identify. I bet you're thinking something like, "But you drew it!" and I did, but my hands draw what's on my mind. Lots of my past have blurred together over the years.

The sketch was crude and brutal, nothing like my previous sketches. There were two kids in the forest, surrounded by thick trees. The piece was focused on the two children, but none of their features were distinguishable.