EPILOGUE:
ERWIN'S POV
I could still vividly remember the day I first saw his face, ever-so picturesque as I remember.
The lovely hues of his eyes, the small curl on his lips, and the way he seemed to carry himself. I noticed him right away despite my inconvenient position of catching an awfully narrow angle to view him, just right above and past our superior's shoulder.
He looked like he was searching, yet at the same time, running for all his worth. It intrigued me, piqued my interest as to what person he could possibly be behind the demeanor.
I stared for too long and too intensely to the point I caught his attention. His head lightly turned and lovely hues met mine.
I swallowed thickly, heart pounding slightly to have been caught but felt far too gone to turn back now. I held his gaze, steadily and calmly as though my own chest didn't beat uncomfortably.
He stared back, in contemplation. Torn between smiling or scowling at me, which I couldn't figure which.
All I knew was that either way, I would be doomed.
Unfortunately for me, my line ended the moment his lips curled up to smile at me. A very brief one that anyone wouldn't have noticed unless they were staring as hard as I.
My tense muscles loosened up and I felt a significant weight float from my shoulders.
He had a sunny disposition, but not the typical niche cheery manner. He reminded me of the sun-not for the happy cliche that books have introduced, but for how he wounded me. His scornful, scorching heat that came in the delve of his eyes, threatening to burn me if I stared too long. Or his warmth that formed in his presence and how I felt relentlessly cold without.
That was how it became for the past few years we were trainees.
Finding excuses now and then to get ever closer. I was contented for a while, assured with the thought that no matter who he hung out with, he always seemed to gravitate back towards me like how I do him.
But my small infatuation grew beneath everyone's noses, even mine. It was so silent, so sensually gradual, that I didn't even notice it until I felt my hand itch every time he was so close but I couldn't reach out to him.
Most days, after hanging out and feeling our arms graze lightly in skin, my hand would flex in a poor attempt of controlling myself.
That was when I first knew I was a weak man against him.
The first time I realized I couldn't hide or shy away from my unnatural feelings forever was when I had met his sister in an ordinary night out in Wall Rose.
She was charming, yes. But in no way could she capture me with a single look just like how her little brother had done an honest man like me.
She was pretty, that I couldn't deny. How could I? She looked like M/n.
But presented with this version of the other Thorne, I realized I couldn't have anyone else.
I couldn't feel the desire to have anything more.
I could feel my blood chant his name, his face the last image I see before drifting off to sleepless nights of thinking of him, his lips the only appetizer to seem to appetize me.
I was growing crazy.
"You're dreaming." He told me once after I had told him how enchanting he was, my words getting the best of me.
And yet, the feel of him so close to me made reality beg to differ.
"I never felt more lucid in my entire life." I had quickly retorted before hiding under the night.
Meeting his sister, I found an opportunity. A hopeful yet immorally conceiving one. But out of my desperation, I had orchestrated an entire plan to see if my feelings could ever have the hopes of being reciprocated.
It was small at first.
I sent Marie a letter, talking about how I wanted to continue talking to her in spite of the distance. I knew it was wrong to lead her on but it was necessary to create sacrifices in order to reach your goal.
I knew she would be intimidated. My writing was far too different from what she's used to with Nile, she'd feel the pressure of measuring up to it and realize her talent did not rely with the ability to formulate words. I was entirely hopeful that everything will go accordingly, that she'd turn to the one person anyone would logically choose to write responses for them.
I was skeptical at first.
M/n showed no interest in me romantically, but ever since the letters-I knew he was slowly revealing what really was behind that demeanor.
It was wrong, I know. To trick both siblings into this inconvenient scheme for my selfish desires.
But in order to want something is to be selfish, there was no excuse.
The only way I could get him to think about me, to tell me the words I could never hear straight directly from his mouth-was for him to write it before a quill, for him to pour his emotions in a piece of paper even if he had to sign it with Marie's name.
Asking Marie for a walk had been purely a test.
The moment I met her on the streets near the church, she had her hair down and a floral dress adorning her figure. And even so, the dullness of the dimly lit street matched her.
She did not shine as brightly as my sun, she did not possess a curious and incredibly inquisitive mind filled with literature, she did not burn with passion nearly as much.
The first question she had asked me was if I had preferred polka dots over stripes, and that was when I knew for certain she was not the words behind her love letters.
But the entire night, I felt relieved. Utterly relieved. With her, my interest died along with my words. A grave rightfully forgotten at the tip of my tongue as I rushed back to camp the moment she told me she was cold.
I agreed with her.
It was cold. And dull. Awfully dull.
I needed my warmth. I needed to feel alive once more. I needed my sun.
The door was locked once I arrived and I knew right away he had been waiting for me the moment I knocked and he rushed over to open it for me.
The candle was lit and a book was placed half-opened by his pillow. He had been waiting for me and I didn't want him to wait any longer.
My face flushed with relief the moment I basked in his warmth.
His lovely hues ever-so alive, his confused frown when he had met my gaze, and a very brief look of disappointment flash when he mistook my happiness for something else.
I foolishly pulled him into an embrace, arms wrapped securely around him as though I feared he would disappear and leave me with nothing but my aching chest.
It felt. . . Right.
Nothing about him felt wrong.
But he drew his distance. It was agonizing but I understood him perfectly fine, I was to blame in my part for having never been direct with my feelings.
Though I did vow to show him onwards as to how I burned and yearned for him.
He hung out with Miche and Nile more, not once glancing my way. I was hurt, naturally. But I didn't want to force him into anything, and so I gave him his distance.
When he sprained my hand, I almost rejoiced in the attention he gave me. Although it was wrong of me to feel so good in morally bad circumstances, I was just glad to have him back with me once again.
My first confession had been in a subtle way of asking him to write down my words.
He didn't understand it, he was simply hurt. Even when I had done everything to hint at it by closing spaces and using direct nouns.
He strayed further.
I would be lying if I said I never felt a twinge of jealousy every time he spent time away from me and with other people who were clearly taken with him, platonically or not. They all could see the light he bore, that was enough for me to know.
Winter activities allowed us to grow closer.
Light mundane moments spent alone together, being the closest source of warmth for his easily cold-tainted heart. It was the perfect setting and I never wanted to think of anything else again.
I didn't even want him to bring up Marie or Nile or anyone else at that matter.
Being paired away was the closest point of hell I've been in a while.
Miche was a good guy, but he was also M/n's close friend. He liked talking about him, and although I should be happy to even remotely know more things about him-it irked me slightly that Miche possibly knew more about him than I did.
"An acorn." He had crouched down midway in picking up sticks. He studied it briefly, "M/n would like fact-checking this."
I turned to him shortly before tearing my eyes away. "Focus on the task on hand, yes?"
We were first to finish, and I must admit Miche's incredible sense of smelling played a major role in navigating our way around the forest.
I waited patiently to catch a glimpse of those lovely hues again, hoping that he would come sooner so that I didn't have to wait any longer in agonizing silence.
But the sky eventually dimmed and I grew more concerned.
"Are they lost?" My brows knitted together in concern, Nile briefly glanced my way before shrugging.
"Come on, it's M/n." He dismissed.
I agreed, it was M/n. He's pretty capable. I shouldn't worry, I should trust him.
But eventually more others returned but not him, not that one girl he was paired with, and not some other guy I couldn't even remember due to my growing worry for M/n.
"Flagon's not here yet, he told me to go ahead." Flagon's partner had muttered, guilty for having returned without his partner.
I couldn't really care about Flagon, not when something more grave was lingering in my mind.
The moment I caught the girl M/n was partnered with run her way back carry a ton of sticks that she possibly couldn't have found all on her own, I waited to see hues I've longed to see all day.
But I felt as if something was incredibly wrong when I saw her panicked expression.
I stood up immediately and met her halfway, eyes searching hers for answers.
"Where's M/n?" Was the first question that left my mouth, and her face turned to guilt and I felt my stomach drop.
"I. . . I. . ."
I was growing impatient and irritated, I didn't ask her to stutter- I asked her where M/n was.
"Man, calm down." Nile pushed my chest lightly, and I realized I was intimidating her too much to the point she can't formulate a response.
I composed myself and felt a tad bit guilty, but my concern was only amplified when I didn't get an immediate good answer.
"M/n asked me to go ahead and bring the sticks."
"He's coming, isn't he?" I asked hopefully.
Hopeful that he was just going to pick some more on the way and that he wasn't lost, cold, or confused. Goodness, taking a look at the dark forest made a shudder run down my spine.
M/n was left alone inside that?
I heard no reply.
"He's coming, isn't he?" I asked again, desperate this time as I held her shoulders.
She turned away to avoid my eyes in guilt.
Why did she look like that?
He's fine, right? He was going to return with that sarcastic remarks of his and his endless complains about the cold.
But reality soon knocked my senses when all she did was stay silent.
"Where is he?" Miche pulled me back, patting my back in futile attempts of comforting me before facing her in a more calm manner.
"I. . . I don't know. But he has Flagon, Flagon's all passed out and he's out cold so M/n insisted to stay with him until I get help. He said he can't carry him all the way here but he can't leave him alone to die either."
Curses rang in my head. Cursing her for leaving him, cursing him for being too stubborn. But most importantly, cursing myself for not being physically capable of being there right away.
"I'll go find him." I said firmly with determination, unable to contain myself and wait here while he possibly freezes in the cold.
And I didn't trust anyone else to find him, I didn't trust anyone with him at all. Who's to say they can go and help him? Who's to say they won't do anything foolish that can potentially risk his life again? It was getting harder and harder to trust people.
"I'll come with!" Nile exclaimed, stepping forward.
"Stay here, we can't afford too many people." Miche, surprisingly, said.
I was prompted to glance at him curiously.
"Come on, Erwin." He nudged his head to urge me, which he didn't have to do twice as my feet were already moving to dive in the forest.
I had no complaints with Miche, he was M/n's friend and a pretty strong guy whose incredible sense of smelling can definitely be an asset out in the cold like this.
"I can smell him."
I didn't need to know that, however.
"Is he far?" I tried not to show the hoarseness of my voice, which was thankfully masked by the whistling breeze.
"Down that way." He pointed at a slope of snow that I didn't hesitate to swiftly glide over.
Snow touched my skin but the hollow in my chest felt colder in comparison. I couldn't think of anything else but M/n. My pulse chanted his name and the thought of his queasy smiles ached.
Miche went on ahead as I looked around with itching concern.
"M/n!" I called out in vain, hoping that he would hear me.
"The cold is messing with my senses." Miche muttered, and his words weren't in any way comforting as my gaze hardened at the path around us.
"He's not very tolerant to the cold."
He looked up at me, curiously.
"We have to find him." I said with a hard swallow as his eyes eventually morphed into one of understanding, a silent one as he timidly gave a small nod.
I lead us through the labyrinth of trees until we could pinpoint where exactly Miche can start catching his scent.
In what felt like hours, I could hear Miche's distant yet brief call of my name as he pushes past hanging leaves and stepped beyond governing trees.
My brows knitted together but I didn't waste time to follow his footsteps, the thought of him possibly finding M/n nagging whatever senses in my mind.
Nothing mattered more.
As I, too, stepped past the large bark of trees-my eyes adjusted to the darkness before they landed onto a figure slouched dangerously forward, as though in the brink of toppling over with the weight spewed behind him.
But I could recognize those lovely hues anywhere. Even when they're cold, even when they've lost a touch of brightness from the dulling cold, or even if they were hidden behind closed eyelids-I would always know it was M/n.
I pushed the hood of my cloak off my head, letting it fall nimbly behind as the cold began brushing against my nape. It didn't bother me.
What bothered me was with how I could see M/n shiver visibly from the cold. How his legs shook yet still stood firm with resolve, or how his face looked too frozen to pull an expressive expression, or how he looked like he was going to freeze like an ice cube and how Flagon's weight behind him didn't do anything to remedy his agony.
Miche carried Flagon in return, making the male look lightweight in comparison as he met my eyes briefly with a side glance.
I assured him with one look that there was no one else I would trust to be with M/n more.
I approached my sun and noted how looked in the verge of getting frozen. And yet, even at the mere sight of him did I feel utterly warm as though no winter haunted my being.
I gave him my cloak and my heart trembled at his hesitancy of being an inconvenience to me.
I didn't understand it.
Couldn't he see the lengths I was willing to reach just for him? He could consider himself an inconvenience but he will always be worth it to me.
The amount of convincing I had to do was nothing compared to the joy I felt to finally have him with me. (Against me).
I swore I was breathing shallow breaths the entire time. I could feel him breathe quietly, softly against my back. His weight never even registered with the way my heart tried to regulate its beating.
Gods, I hope he couldn't hear how wildly my heart raced.
Was it too loud? It felt too loud. I felt like my heart was shaking the world with its tremors.
The icing on the cake was simply feeling him press closer against me, his head finding solace in the crook of my neck as he nuzzled in exhaustion-even if subconsciously.
I tensed up and my cheeks warmed brightly, pitifully obvious not from the cold.
"Sorry." He muttered lowly, almost in shame. And my chest clenched as I tried not to show my disappointment to have him pull away.
But I respected his comfort and did my best to assure him.
Surely, he could tell my feelings now were far from platonic-? I could only hope he was vain enough to assume.
I was wrong.
Watching Carly, his partner for the activity, bury her face into his shirt-stirred some unpleasant feeling in my chest. I could only silently seethe beside him as she sobbed incoherent apologies with M/n awkwardly assuring her.
Since when were they close? I wondered. But I had to shake off the claws of jealousy that was surely an ugly picture to see.
But seeing her press closer urged me to pull him away, separating them with a hardened stern look on my face.
"He's recovering." I said, dragging him away as she meekly uttered out an apology.
I had nothing against Carly, I simply didn't enjoy seeing anyone pushing themselves to M/n.
The entire time in that cabin had been the closest I'd been to ecstacy.
Without Marie to worry his pretty little mind, we had all the time to ourselves. Growing impossibly closer.
What I would describe my biggest mistake was confessing my love too soon without warning. I crashed it upon him and he was naturally confused and overwhelmed.
That was the night we had shared a bed, the night I couldn't stop my heart pounding and my face warm to be at such close proximity under the covers.
His natural response had been denial. He refused to accept my words as reality when he kept in mind the actions I've done the past few months. It occurred to me that it didn't exactly look right in his perspective.
I've done questionable things. Supposedly showing 'interest' in his sister as a part of my plan. He would, of course, question my intentions.
So, I gave him space as he actively avoided me since that night.
It would be a lie if I said I didn't sulk with the consequences of my actions. I hated how I couldn't be straightforward from the start, perhaps prevented this entire mishap we're entangled with.
The second time he rejected me, I had been seething with the same jealousy as Nile received more attention as I was forced to hold a bland conversation with Marie-my eyes ever-so often darting towards her brother who has been the only one the caught my eye.
Hearing his reasons of rejecting me pained me the second time.
I could not explain the inexplicable throbbing it left in my chest. It ached and nagged especially at night, only able to stare longingly from a distance he keeps that distance consistently.
My last straw had been seeing Carly about to confess her own feelings with him. And M/n being so dense with the magnetic pull he possesses, I intervened childishly.
It didn't matter to me, however. I was hellbent to keep her away from him.
When Marie had pulled me away to speak in private on our last day, I already knew the look in her eye as she gazed at me as though I was her ticket to the life she felt inclined to have.
"Can I speak with you for a second?" She asked me, bright hair glinting under the sun.
Others would say she had a more fiery complexion. A sunny one that blazes fire. Her bright hair, her sharp eyes, her cunning face. Charming, indeed, to some. But she was fire, there was a stark difference.
I could bask in my sun-but the fire, however, can only burn you.
And seeing her, I did not recognize her.
I did not know what thoughts kept her up most nights, if she even sleeps past her assigned schedule. I did not know what books she liked to read or if she even reads any. I did not know her heart, if it was kind or forced to appear that way.
I did not know her at all.
And if there's one thing I could never understand, it would be why M/n would insinuate she would be a better fit than him-the missing piece in my jigsaw puzzle.
She would never understand my passion for history, would never understand the force that drove me to pursue life beyond the walls.
"I love you." She said, eyes boring into mine as words fell from her lips like a fairytale. Except, I wasn't into fiction. "I know we've been talking for a while, but our letters- I feel as though I am meant to live a life with you."
My brows knitted together and my eyes furrowed.
I felt nauseated.
Our letters? They were never mine and her's.
They were sacred keepings of the words M/n exchanged with me. I knew his soul had been written there more honest than it has ever been, and keeping those letters with me felt like keeping a part of him with me always.
I pulled my hand away from her grasp, her cold touch unable to remedy the hollow in my chest.
"We don't know each other, Marie."
Her face morphed into one of confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You can't claim to love someone you don't know. To love someone, you need to know everything about them-or is willing to know them in form of loving. You and me, we hardly know each other, Marie. You don't love me." I shook my head, finding the thought almost ridiculous. "You love the idea of the life you think you could have with me."
Her brows furrowed, but she made no words to speak up against it.
"But your letters. . ." She trailed off, "You said. . ."
"I'm sorry," I sincerely apologized. My guilt surfacing after playing a cruel game with her just to get to her brother. "Those had been purely in guise. In reality, the words I had written had been intended for your brother."
She was stunned, to say the least.
"My brother? M/n?"
"Yes." I nodded, but it was too late to act shameful now. "I loved him this entire time, Marie. And I'm sorry I had to get to you before I could make certain if he loved me back."
I knew the information overwhelmed her as she nearly lost her balance, she had to place her hand against the wall in order to remain standing.
"He loves you?" She asked, weakly. Will wavering.
"I could only hope so."
She sighed, pinching her nose in exasperation. "I can't believe it. Was that why he kept pushing me to you? So that I could stop you from joining the Scouts?"
My brows furrowed, "He did what?"
"He wanted me to save you, from an ill fate-I presume." Her explanation was short but I understood right away.
I could almost chuckle at his hypocrisy, wanting me to be saved when he, himself, was joining the Scouts. Wasn't that a bit unfair? For him to throw his life away yet wish at the same time I live mine?
Did he not understand I could never live with the thought of losing him? Let alone live comfortably within the premises of the inner wall whilst he fights for his life and humanity?
I couldn't live without him.
And my choice had been made from the start.
What he was asking me to do was pick between choosing the Military Police and live without him or choose the Scouts which meant being with him.
My choice was awfully clear from the start.
And the only way I could be deterred from my dream of proving the theories my father died for was if M/n insisted to live a quiet life with me within the inner walls-I would have thought about it, hell, I would have been contented with such a mundane life.
But unfortunately for the both of us, we both craved the taste of freedom.
"I'm sorry, Marie." I finally got myself to look at her, pulled from my thoughts.
"Is there no chance?" Her saddened eyes met mine.
"He is my only." I told her, and hope that answers it. He is not the 'first' because that implies there will be more at some point. I do not want more. I just want him. Only him.
By the time I arrived, I had hastily enlisted for the Scouts before looking all over for a familiar face. I was walking past everyone who were heading in one direction, moving against them as I spotted a couple of familiar faces but none of them matched the one I was looking for.
I was growing increasingly worried.
If I do see him, then what? Would he even pay me any mind? Would he brush me off and continue to maintain distance especially now that I've broken his sister's heart? I dreaded to think about it, but everything fell silent to my desperation to be with him.
To hell with anything else, I just wanted to see him.
As though my prayers had been answered, he stood before me. From my entire inner monologue, I even failed to spot him the first few seconds he had been within distance.
My mouth fell open but it quickly screwed shut, unable to formulate words now that I was standing before him.
My sun.
It sounded ridiculous, I know. To call him such a thing when all we've had were rainy days.
But we give those we love nicknames, because love requires a word that belong to us alone. And for me, he embodied it quite perfectly. I can never seem to see without his light.
The minutes we shared hidden from the public eye had been the closest I was to the unattainable heaven. I could swore I felt the golden gates glide against my skin, heard the angels sing as he muttered confessions of love, felt the ground beneath me disappear into nothing as I held him in my arms.
I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
He confessed to me, everything. What I don't know and what I already knew about. He admitted to me his rational fear of what others had to say about such an unusual topic, initially. Too many setbacks he had named, all the things that held him back.
I listened to him through each one, finding it comforting to know I wasn't shouldering the same thoughts alone this entire time.
"I won't be written in the history books," he told me as he pulled away from the breathless moment our lips had collided. "That's for you." He spoke it with the utmost certainty. "But I loved you first, as long as they get that right-I don't care what they say."
And it felt as though I couldn't ever get enough of him.
I don't think my lips belonged anywhere else except for his body.
I felt my chest swell with a mixture of emotions, I felt like a mess. Even as a young child, I was used to being composed and took pride in having a great deal of control over my emotions. And yet, he had been able to stir everything within me with just a simple sealed kiss.
I knew if there was one thing I would treasure in my life forever, even as a memory that would play in my final moments of self-destruction and long-awaiting death- it would be this.
This sweet taste of youth and passionate, genuine, mind-throttling spree of feelings. That not even the titans could take away from me even if it costs me a limb.
I knew I would never be 19 and this in love with another human being again.
And I was glad that even for just once in my lifetime, I got to have what life was truly worth living for.