Chapter Text
Erwin was leaving.
The way his blue eyes remained stone cold as he passed by you without a word kept repeating in your imagination. The man looked magnificent in his dark overcoat and leather boots. His blond hair was ever sleek, combed to a perfect part to adorn the sturdy structure of his face. With one hand, he carried a black fedora ready to complete the attire, while with the other, a leather briefcase you’d associated uniquely to him.
He maintained his silence until the front door was firmly shut.
Not a glance, no acknowledgement, nothing.
You vividly remember the sensation in your chest.
If a knife was thrusted into the hollowness of it, probably the pain would taste the same.
You understand, your guy has always been cooler than the others. Erwin wasn’t one to display much of his affection even in private. His words are oftentimes forthright and followed by barbs or criticism—constructive ones, that’s how you sugarcoat it. Though the worst of them have always been directed at those who actively sought his vengeance, at times when the heat of the moment got the best of him, he could almost be as merciless to you.
And Erwin has never apologized for his opinions. Not once. He sees no purpose in apologizing for what he sees as right, even if his words bring more harm than good, or even if he knows how they’ve hurt you, the man stays stubborn and sturdy like an oak tree. He will chase you if you run away out of anger, then hold you until the tears run dry, but he will never take back what he’s said.
That’s just how he operates.
For a man who owns a whole regiment of private mercenaries, fickleness is intolerable.
But, still, whenever it happens, pain is inevitable.
Your head starts to throb from the stress of it all. The prospect of finishing the third chapter of a research journal tonight has lost its appeal. Hange—the head researcher of your department—can wait another day, you suppose. You decide to turn in now, seeing how you’re unable to keep your mind away from the events of that day.
“Oh, finishing early?” One of the senior housekeepers in Erwin’s household asks when you close the door to your home office.
You give her a nod and a half smile, “Yes. I have a headache.”
The old woman looks worried, “Would you like some aspirin?”
“No, it’s alright. I’ll sleep it off.”
She doesn’t question your decision and bows her head slightly as you walk past her.
The bedroom is vast and dark as you enter it, absent of the warmth usually shared with Erwin’s presence. The tall windows and glass door leading to the balcony reveal a gloomy sky, underneath were the trees’ canopy blown by roaring gusts of strong wind.
Weather forecast pops on the evening news as you turn on the TV to fill the silence. The well-dressed anchorman predicts an incoming storm worsening to its peak near midnight. You lower the volume, just enough to create a buzzing sound as you enter the bathroom to prepare for bed.
“And next on our report, the head of Fritz Enterprise, Uri Reiss, has been sentenced to death with charges of human rights act violation during the two year construction of Wall Sina around the iceburst stone mine in Paradis. The court is in the process of setting the date for his execution–”
A menacing throb instantly assaults your head.
You almost slam the bathroom door close on your way to punch the off button on the remote. Your heart races wildly, cold sweat begins to damp the palm of your hand.
Uri Reiss.
He was the very reason for your winded debate with Erwin, the one who caused differing opinions clashing from you and him without any middle ground apparent. What you were so afraid of, what Erwin was so adamant about, finally happens.
You drop to sit on the edge of the bed, hands covering your face as reminiscence of your fight one week ago invades in memory.
“Are you crazy?” Hearing the inclination in your tone, Erwin’s stoic gaze freezes you like a biting cold. But you refuse to back down just yet. “This is reckless, Erwin.”
The man contemplates something behind that mask of indifference. “He’s a threat. I’m just doing preventive measures, as I should.”
“No,” you grit your teeth, preparing mentally for what you’re about to say. “The Reiss will see this as a betrayal.”
Erwin has the gall to click his tongue, “They were never my allies.”
“They spared you! Your life, your future! When other nobles stepped all over you, the Reiss could easily swoop in for the kill but they didn’t .”
“It’s their loss.”
“Mighty Ymir! Erwin!” You throw hands at his nonchalance.
He sighs exasperatedly, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ve done my calculations.” Having had enough of your rants, the man rises from his chair to leave, fully intent on ending this conversation.
You reflexively tug at the sleeve of his shirt, “You’re digging your own grave.”
He pauses for a moment, seeming to consider your words.
“Drop the charges against him,” you plead. “Or they won’t hesitate to drag you down.”
You can see the muscles of his jaw twitching. He says, “It’s precisely because of that, I have to end them first before they choose to end me.”
Your hands grip his wrist tightly as you shake your head, “No, you're better than this. You know how to return a favor."
"And risk losing everything I've built so far?" He turns to face you, presenting a question laced with bitterness.
You find the uncompromising resolve in his eyes, blazing with the memories of past hardships he barely managed to overcome.
"Take off your rose-tinted glasses," Erwin snatches his wrist out of your hold, it's him who squeezes your shoulders now, with a grip so tight it borders on being painful, "I get your fondness for peace, but it won’t solve my particular kind of problem. I’m not that idealized better-person you envision. You knew this from the start yet you still chose to be with me,” he pauses to let everything sink in, then he continues, voice chilling, “Why do you suddenly take issues now?”
You find yourself at a loss for words, struck immobile by his harsh reminder.
“That’s right. Keep that pretty mouth shut.” He smirks at your defeat, moving a thumb to caress your lips softly. “Keep it shut and let me get rid of whoever I want to.”
You peer deep into the blue of his eyes and see a hint of malice waiting to be unbridled. You can’t help but ask, “And what if I don’t?”
Confusion appears for a second on his expression, but it turns to ridicule soon. “What are you saying? Do you want to expose me?” He snorts in disbelief. “You don’t have the guts.”
His demeaning thought of you makes anger boiling in your chest. You’ve never felt so underestimated before. As your throat tightens, the quietness makes him think that your conversation is done here. He taps your cheek lightly, taunting the uneasy look you give him before leaving.
But again, you’re not letting him go that easily. You almost shout the next question, “Will you get rid of me, too, if I do it?!”
Erwin stops instantly, his broad back still facing you.
“You need to do preventive measures , after all.” Now it’s your voice that taunts him. You don’t know why you would even ask something you’ve known the answer to, but regret only comes after the deed is done.
The man turns halfway to look at you—the tense, trembling you. He considers something for a moment, then answers without delay.
“Even you are expendable.”
The implication of his answer lingers in the room even after he’s gone from your sight.
You’re left too stunned to feel anything but the sensation of being doused in a bath of icy waters.
After that Erwin left to spend the night away from you. Though you were grateful for the distance, you hadn’t expected him to come home only to leave again for a confidential trip the next morning—apparently a new contractor had asked for his private military services to guard a disputed zone somewhere near the southern border of Marley, that was what Mike later told you. You hated yourself for feeling a spark of happiness upon seeing him that morning before he went, hoping to get a chance to talk and set any misunderstanding straight.
In your pathetic little mind, Erwin didn’t mean what he said. That’s just how he operates.
But the way he refused to even look at you reduced whatever positivity remained.
You were then left to spend the whole week sitting by your phone, anxiously waiting for the call that would mark the end of this relationship.
By this seventh day, this very day Erwin has successfully gotten rid of whom he sees a threat—Uri Reiss, current head of Reiss noble family—you wonder why he hasn’t done the same to you.
Rain starts pouring outside as you tuck yourself under the covers. A last check on your phone indicates the same thing—there are no missed calls nor unread messages from him. You put the device back on the nightstand and lay on your side facing the windows, hoping the sight of the storm can calm your nerves.
As the howling of the winds picks up, you start to doze off despite feeling a little colder than usual. The thick covers fail to warm you up properly when there’s an empty space on the other side of the bed. You can still smell him on the sheets, faint amongst the scent of petrichor, and it becomes your lullaby into a deep sleep.