a/n: Hello! This story is not dead, though I've made an executive decision and will be taking a more canon-centric approach to the majority of the chapters, as I'm not too confident on my AU abilities just yet. That's not to say that I won't write ANY AUs; there are certainly a couple ideas floating about that will necessitate a different setting, but the ordinary world of AoT will take primary focus for now. If it's an AU piece, I'll make sure to note it before the story proper.

Thanks for all the support.

.01 – Cuddles (naked)

Rating – PG

In the aftermath, it's quiet. The air is heated, not quite stuffy.

The window is open; light filters in through the dainty curtains like gold, illuminating particles of dust disturbed. Remaining still, Annie lets herself adjust to the hustle-and-bustle of city life drifting in. It's a far cry from the almost-silence of the Military Academy; surrounded by night-life and the whisper of shabby sheets over many pairs of legs, the sound of hushed conversations about trivial matters in the dark.

Here, both bed and sheets are finer. She'd almost felt sorry for Eren the first time he laid eyes upon her quarters; likewise, when he'd confessed that the Regiment saw fit to keep him in some abandoned castle she wasn't surprised, but nevertheless felt something vaguely akin to sympathy.

("It's nothing I can't handle," he'd added quickly, as though assuming the worst from her expression; though Annie had kept her answer impassive:

"I suppose that's true.")

Annie doesn't mind the sweat cooling on her skin as much as she ought to, though there is part of her that wants a shower. Another part, closer to her fluttering heart, wants to hold him close.

She masters that impulse. Her eyes dart to his face as he stirs.

"You're still awake?" he mumbles. His voice is low. Gruff, but reassuring.

Annie's mouth curls. "Can't sleep."

"Oh," says Eren softly. His eyes wander over her, uncharacteristically meticulous, like he will never be able to look at her enough. Annie shivers, averts her gaze elsewhere, at a loss for how to rationalise this intimacy, how the simple, inexorable weight of his body next to hers brings such peace.

His hand slides up her naked side to bring her closer. Annie wonders if it's possible to miss someone when they haven't left you.

"D'you feel better?" he asks.

Annie nods. He seems content, then, tucking his face into her clavicle. Idly, she cards her fingers through his hair.

It's startlingly easy, sometimes, to put the Mission out of her mind for a little while and pretend that things can be different. It should be sickening, how quickly she's able to fall into place with this boy. But Jaeger is not a simple boy, not anymore. Enlistment into the Scouts has altered him; he's a shade closer to a man with the weariness apparent in his eyes and his scowl more pronounced.

She remains the same as she was when they parted ways; cold and cynical, seemingly unaffected by the horrors of war.

("You'd hate it here," she'd told him once, in a previous situation similar to the one at present. Eren had looked pensive, then, smoothing back her hair.

"Yeah. But I'm where I want to be. And as long as you're happy, Ann — that's all that matters, isn't it?"

She'd wanted to laugh, or scoff, or perhaps cry; none of it came naturally.)

"Ann," he mumbles after a pause.

"Mm?"

"I have to go."

"The officer won't care."

It's mostly true. The security in Stohess's own Military Police HQ is lacklustre at best; and that's in spite of Marlowe's officious nature. All of the superior officers hate him.

Eren scowls. "That's your people. Mine'll kill me if I'm late again."

Annie smirks. "You think they won't know what you've been up to?"

He flushes, jaw set, and growls: "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" Her tone is casual.

Eren regards her in silence, his agitation giving way to awkwardness.

"…I don't want to get you in trouble."

Annie snorts. Loudly, and without effort to hide the noise. "You're kidding."

But he isn't, she realises. He still looks uncertain as she leans back into the mattress, totally at-ease. Annie says: "A lot of stuff works differently, here." The back of her hand brushes his cheek in simple reassurance.

Eren huffs, head inclined to meet the gesture, his mouth chapped against her knuckles. "So? Doesn't change the fact that they'll probably feed me to the horses or somethin'."

Annie sighs and says: "Horses don't eat meat."

"Whatever," Eren mutters. "You know what I meant."

A kiss laid to her brow and he departs; she does not reach for him. Keeping her body slack, unhindered, her head tilting just so, one eye trained on him, watching him redress, studying for mannerisms. She observes the process of his hands on his shirt and belt. Feels something coil hot and sedate in her belly, like sense memory; leftover desire.

Annie makes a funny little noise in the back of her throat, like she's caught off guard.

Eren glances at her, ever perceptive.

Her thighs shift in a way that is not quite unnoticeable. He falters. Then tears his eyes away, face somewhat pinker.

Smirking, Annie leans over, retrieving her shirt from the floor. Slips it on, legs crossed much more sensibly.

"Will I be —?" seeing you soon, Annie starts to say, biting her tongue before she can get the words out, because when has she ever tipped her hand that far?

"I'll be back," Eren says, facing the door. "I dunno when, but…." He turns, offering a hopeful glance, a grin.

"All right," says Annie, watching him go. When the door closes, she falls back with a wistful sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

She can wait.