Title: i don't want anybody else
Pairing: Erwin, Hange
Summary: (but you)

A/N: I ship Hange with everyone, sorry not sorry. Inspired by Coldplay's 'Magic'. I recommend listening to that song while reading this. Cover is from Coldplay's album, A Sky Full of Stars. Subject to revisions

i don't want anybody else
(but you)

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« by arsenous elation »

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Waves
by Caroline Gormley

For this moment, this one rare glance, we are together.
I press you to me. I indent my name.

...

I remember the narrow streets, with our hands on the cold known territory, this forest of the unknown world alight.
The machine then works; I note the rhythm, the I, and again I, and again I.

PART I

Motes of dust swirl in the sunlight; the morning is slow, endless.

Erwin has his back pressed against the wooden floor, warm from the sunlight that floods through the window. His chest feels weighted, like the world is pushing down against him and he does not push back (not quite yet). Quietly, he watches Hange read beside him, face radiant in the light, eyes lost in the map of words.

This is Erwin's first true lesson in beauty. Hange has a face that would look handsome on a boy—all brightness and energy—but would also be fetching on a girl—sun-kissed and summery. At thirteen, Erwin learns that some things cannot be classified, how Hange isn't just a boy or girl. Some things are beautiful without any explanation, without any reason.

Like how Hange is Hange and that is beautiful. That is enough.

Suddenly, Hange stands, walks over to the window. Hange never cleans this window, leaves it dusty so they can write words on it. Words to be discovered, words waiting for meaning.

In between 'sea' and 'christianity' Hange traces the word 'magic'.

"I've learned something today. Watch this," Hange breathes, scrunches a blue cloth in their hands.

But Erwin focuses on Hange's eyes. The brightness in them almost blinds him, causes his heart to do a backwards variation of some dance Hange taught him last week. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to ask, how do you do that?

In a flurry of breathless blue, Hange procures a bouquet of flowers from the cloth. Magic, Hange says, mouth almost splitting their face in a smile, isn't it amazing?

You are.

"Yes," Erwin finds himself nodding, accepts the proffered bouquet, ears burning.

In the heavy blanket of midnight, they stay awake. Jeweled light travels across the walls of the room, the lamp with its colored stones a solitary witness by the windowsill.

Once there was bird, Erwin begins his story, one that has been worn from retelling. Hange reaches up to take his hand, slow and unquestioned.

Once there was a bird who saw the world in its entirety.

Some things are beautiful and some things are terrifying. Without any explanation.

It happens in a careless moment:

A careless word spills from the mouth of neighbor's son. Traitor. It is a word they both learned through experience, through the loss of a father and a grandfather. It is a word that transforms Hange entirely.

The moment Erwin registers what is happening, Hange has already leapt towards the boy, fists pummeling. Heart leaping to his throat, he surges and clasps Hange around their middle, tries to pull them away. But anger is a fickle thing, and Hange has always been strong, stronger than Erwin, but right at this moment Hange's rage is tremendous, is unstoppable.

Erwin does his best to drag Hange, even as blood pours from his nose.

"Hange! Hange!" he shouts. He tugs, tugs, tugs until the other boy escapes from Hange's punches, until his arms hurt from holding. Until Hange stops fighting and has turned to crying instead.

Then he holds on tighter.

"Hey, let's join the Survey Corps."

When he stands beside Hange, a wing has been drawn on the grime of the window.

Erwin steps forward, wills the sudden fear and trembling in his limbs. He remembers his father, the light glinting off his spectacles, the warm smile. To see the outside world.

Reaching over Hange, he draws the other wing, completes the emblem.

"Yeah."