Chapter 3
Bertholdt still kept his possessive grip on you, pulling you until Jean's figure was nothing but a dot. You slipped your wrist away, annoyed that Bertholdt was treating you like a child while he knew very well you were capable of being independent.
"Why'd you do that?" You ask while he starts preparing for your hand-to-hand combat training.
"Is there something going on between you and Jean?" He asked facing you with hurtful eyes and for a moment you felt your heart swell at his concern, but replaced your pitied look with a stoic expression.
"None of your business. As far as I know, we don't own each other in any circumstances." He seems surprised at your remark, but doesn't dare to answer back. Deep down Bertholdt knew he couldn't argue with your adamant self, especially since he never had the guts to claim his crush for you.
He dismisses the conversation, now positioning himself for battle. You also push the emotions aside and place your arms up high, blocking your face. You take your time, knowing Bertholdt wasn't cruel enough to make the first move since he currently had the dagger. Both of your bodies keep circling around, not accomplishing a thing.
'He's too tall, being direct will never work.' You sigh in frustration as you ran out of ideas. With nothing to loose, you chase the knife startling Bertholdt. He quickly recomposes and tightens his fist.
"Don't go easy on me." You warn before preparing a punch. He seems to ignore your statement and plans to dodge your fist.
'I'll swing my left arm instead unexpectedly.' You do as planned, but before you could lay the slightest touch on Bertholdt, he gets ahold of your left arm and throws your body over his shoulder. You squint your eyes as the sensation of flying revolves around. It feels nice for a second.
But the thought of pleasure is totally knocked off as well as the air in your lungs. Your back smashes against the grubby ground, consequently followed by your head. Dizziness sweeps your head as everything becomes a blur. You're still conscious enough to realize you failed at fighting Bert.
You grunt in pain. Bertholdt quickly comes to you and offers a hand, you reluctantly grab it as if not sure you both were in good terms.
"Wow. That was, rough." You murmur, stretching your back and blaming yourself for underestimating his strength.
His cheeks blush as he guiltily glances at you, apologizing through a simple look on his sincere face. Maybe he didn't intend to be so harsh, but this is training for what comes beyond the wall, you might as well already get a taste of what's coming next.
"How about you use the knife this time?" He suggests, flipping over his knife and handing it to you.
"Why not." You say, taking steps back and distancing yourself away.
Reacting completely different from when he possessed the knife, Bertholdt comes running towards and tries to slam your body down. But you set of into a sprint, running around the whole field and blending with the other cadets as Bertholdt never gave up on chasing you.
Your knees were loosing energy, tired from the previous training with Jean you had last night. Taking a quick glance back, you widen your eyes at how tall Bert seemed almost resembling a titan, only adding more pressure as imagines of what you'd really do when the time comes floated through your mind. You begin to panic, your clammy palms keep constantly pushing your glasses up your nose, every time it fell from the sweat forming at the bridge of your nose.
'I suck so bad. I won't be able to keep running like this outside the walls.' You slow down, an idea running through your head, granting you a last solution.
Bertholdt starts catching up, his fingers barely grasping at your ponytail. As he lays his index finger on your shoulder, you haltingly turn around and swing your fist to his face. You wince in pain, hurting yourself instead of Bertholdt.
He stumbles on his footsteps, consequently falling to the ground. You run towards him, jumping on top and holding him hostage, grazing your knife on his neck. He tries throwing your body away, but you make sure to pressure as much weight as possible.
"Not bad right?" You say, a triumphant smile plastered on your face. He looks away, blood rising to his whole face. It makes you happy to be in charge, dominating an almost 2 meter human being. You ask yourself if you would also be the leader of the relationship with Bertholdt, but you snap out of your dreams as he snatches the knife out your fingers.
His lingering fingers brushed your hair, messing up the nest of your head as he threw you a shy smirk, "You still need to improve. Don't expect to be in the top 10 with such simplicity." You knew that it would take hard-work to reach the top, but it was infuriating how everybody that crosses paths with you indirectly suggests you should improve your skills.
"Well then teach me, don't just keep preaching." You say, crossing your arms.
"I would, if you would just get o—off me." He says, almost stuttering on his own words. You chuckle at how embarrassed he seemed, before planting a kiss on his cheek.
"You're like a huge teddy bear. A massive, cuddly yet intimidating teddy bear," You murmur before pushing yourself off the ground, pulling his trembling hand to help him up.
"Wh-why'd you kiss me?" He asked, slumping his shoulders forward and concealing his face. He placed his hand on his heated cheek, caressing the spot you laid your lips upon.
You wondered absent-minded whether pecking his cheek was after all worth a shot, "I won't do it again," You say, also avoiding eye contact with Bertholdt. It didn't sting your pride as bad, since you were constantly shut down by every person that erupted butterflies inside you. Thinking your charm would work on an introverted man was a mistake.
With furrowed eyebrows, you bashfully smoothed the wrinkles on your buttoned up shirt, trying to overcome those irrelevant loops of emotion that were gradually banging the little strength you had left. Finally, you pulled off a blunt face, pressing your lips into a straight line.
"If you don't mind, we should pretend that never happened." He wouldn't share a single word, not giving you a clue of what exactly was roaming in his mind.
He snapped his eyes to you, opening his mouth to talk before he was immediately interrupted by Commander Shadis.
"We'll talk later," He said loud enough, you urged your will to want to talk with him in this moment. Nevertheless, you gave total ears to the Commander that was standing in the middle of the field, his palms rubbing together.
The other trainees also paused, silence now filling the whole field in the snap of a second. You could hear Sasha giggling in the other end of the field, munching into a potato she happened to have while sharing a piece with Connie.
Their loud eating overcame all of the birds' chirping, trainees were starting to notice and quickly tried to warn, "You can eat during lunch!" Mikasa said, trying to pull the food out of their innocent hands.
"What is this munching sound I hear?" The Commander yelled, his austere voice echoing the camp. You glared at Sasha as both of your friends threw their snacks far away, cleaning their greasy fingers against their jackets. You mentally scolded them for being such airheads.
"OW!"
All necks turned to face the boy who you hated whole-heartedly. A half eaten potato laid near his polished boots. Jean kept rubbing his head where the potato probably fell upon, flicking a piece of the munched vegetable off his hair. Your fingers tempted you to run towards Jean, just to feel how soft his hair seemed to be, to rake his spiked hair for the rest of the day.
You slapped yourself for even allowing Jean to enter your thoughts. Commander Shadis was now frozen, changing his glare between Jean and the potato.
"Were you eating... this potato cadet Kirschtein?" He growled, picking up the now dirty potato, crushing it with his fingers and releasing smashed potato, cleaning his fingers on Jean's sleeves.
'Poor Jean. Serves him well'. A laugh escaped your lips. You clasped your hands on your lips, a strong beet red now emerging on your face. Bertholdt stomped your feet, with a warning look for you to control your behavior before it was too late.
It was too late, "What was that?! A laugh?!" The Commander screamed, now making his way to you, "Who dared to laugh." You cringed at his evil tone, his eyes now glancing towards you.
You didn't have the guts to admit, drops of sweat rolled down your cheeks to your lips. The salty taste only increased your nervousness, adding a sour look to your face. He kept walking near you, staring at all cadets in search of the culprit. You felt bare, as your fellow comrades stared at you with blaming intentions.
"It was me sir." An introverted voice called out.
You face Bertholdt, fazed as he held a stoic expression. He keeps looking straight, afraid to lay his eyes on the Commander. 'I owe him one'.
•
•••
•
Training ended and there were only a few hours left to spare before curfew. You didn't have the chance to thank Bertholdt since he wasted his whole day running laps, together with Jean. 'Does this mean he still likes me?'
You take your time walking to your cabin, glad that your training session with Jean was dismissed for today. The sound of gravel, crunched by every step you took eased your nerves that were still unstable by Bertholdt mixed signals. You tightened your fists, trying hard not to think about him, but instead ways to improve your skills.
"Graduation is coming. Bertholdt and Jean are the least of my problems." You say, taking off your glasses and rubbing your tired eyes, blindly making your way.
You stumbled as you hit a tall figure. Placing your glasses on again, you slowly lift your gaze only to meet Bertholdt's chocolate brown eyes. 'What are the odds'.
"H-hey." He mumbles, scratching his neck. Your heart skips a beat.
"Hey Bertholdt." You answer, planning to thank him now, "About earlier, I would really like to thank you. But I also hate to be in your debt." You say, remembering what owing someone felt like when you bought food for your family, when there was no money to afford. Until you decided to start stealing through the lower parts of Ragako.
Your past life disgusted you, "It's alright. You don't owe me nothing f/n. We're all good." He said silently, "But maybe another kiss on the cheek would do the job." He whispered, his voice lower than before, almost inaudible.
"Would you look at that. Bertholdt is gaining courage now, is he?" Jean emerged behind Bertholdt's back. You sigh, making clear his presence was the least thing wanted.
"Keep walking Kirschtein." You warn, only receiving a round of laughter. You narrowed your stare, mentally burning a whole through Jean's skull that most likely was in the size of a nutcase.
Bertholdt walked to Jean, now glaring downwards and threatening him with his soft, brown eyes that instantly became ablaze. You watched as Jean attempted to look stern, questioning Bertholdt's limit until he decided to walk away, his fists shaking with anger for yet again failing to face Bert.
He gave us a last look, "One day you'll be defenseless l/n. With no retarded looking giant beside you," He spat, now eyeing Bertholdt. You shivered at how frank those words actually were.
"Don't worry, that'll never happen. I promise." Bertholdt said, grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him. You remained quiet, a little uncoordinated at what you were witnessing. Truth be told you were enjoying Bertholdt's other side, his tough and rigorous demeanor was quite appealing. His fingers burned your skin, lifting up the hair on your whole body.
The darkness hid the light layer of red spread around your cheek, but nothing stopped Jean from spotting the evil smile on your face. He defeatedly distanced himself, now entering his cabin.
You writhed your body, finally having the chance to admire how handsome Bertholdt was, "Thank you."
He smiled a little, showing somewhat sympathy and compassion. But his eyes said otherwise, you chose not to ask since he seemed to be trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt. You closed the space between both of your bodies, heat radiating through his chest. Lifting yourself with the tips of your boots, you tenderly pecked his cheek and lastly paying your debt.
"I think we are even right?" You said, looking down and struggling not to envelop your arms around him, snuggle with the giant teddy bear that was yet to be yours. His amiable face always put your soul to rest, even on the most chaotic moments and you feared the thought of ever loosing him. You feared loosing something that wasn't even yours.
"Yes. We're even."
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Don't exactly know if this was cute?