She feels cold
...
She remembers everything, the way her father opened the door, the moment her life when form being perfect to utter damn hell. She remembers the way how the knife plunges into her father leaving blood all other the floor. His blood.
She remembers the men advancing into her safe home and invading it with their darkness. With sin.
She remembers the way her mother grabs the scissors and run towards the men who murder her father, desperately trying to kill them to let run .Her mother's voice yelling at her to run.
She remembers her legs being unable to move, as she saw her mothers falls to the ground and her blood spilling onto the floor, painting it red.
Cold.
She feels cold.
She remembers the pain she felt as the man who killed her parents slap her with full force.
Weak too weak, she remembers she was weak.
...
She remember the strange boy yelling at her, the knife in her hands, she froze, this was the same weapon that took her home away form her. The boy's yells were getting stronger.
She snapped.
She remembers being cold,but this time she chose to be, she remembers feeling being in control she remembers running towards the man who took apart in her parents death.
She remembers how she stabbing the man from behind and watching him bleed. She still feels cold.
...
She remembers the boy who saved her taking her in, his parents slowly becoming hers. She still feels cold but as much she holds on to the scarf she has been given, it helps. She doesn't feel as cold as before, but she was still cold. She wonders if that coldness will stop. She remembers Eren trying hard to make her feel welcome, showing his best and only friend Armin and he accepting her into his life.
Days go by and she thinks maybe they will make the coldness stop that she will no longer feel cold anymore.
...
She remembers the woman who loved her like if she was one of her own, screaming begging Hannes to take them away from her and to leave behind to keep them safe. She can still hear Eren's screams and her arms being too weak to lift the log that held the woman down.
She remembers Hannes arms lifting her as Eren yells begging him to save his mom, the man just kept running.
She didn't blamed him.
She remembers seeing the woman who gave her love and tried her best to stop the coldness in heart, being lifted into the air. Her body grasped in the titans hands her legs dangling in the air, her hands hitting the monster, and she turned away as she couldn't bare too see another loved one died. She still hears her screams ringing into her ears as she was being carried to safety.
The screaming stop.
The coldness warped around her heart.
She's freezing.
...
She remembers grabbing her scarf like it was her life line.
The bitter cold still ate her either way.
...
She remembers the way Armin looked at her, tears dripping down his face and his words falling deaf to her as she could only look at his face. She knew.
Her heart is freezing once again, as the boy in front of her cries out sorry. Saying that he was sorry that he was useless to save him.
She remembers holding his hands telling to that's it okay but he cannot put his emotions now. Not when everything was out to kill them.
She remembers telling everyone there what she has been told before. She remembers, she feels control once again but she knew that she would soon lose it.
She remembers feeling cold.
She doesn't think that that coldness will ever end.
...
She remembers hearing his heartbeat, she breaks down.
The coldness felt lighter but it remains.
...
When she see his eyes when her emotions isn't blinding her, she is surprised.
His eyes are like her own.
Cold and dead inside.
She wonders if he went through the same as her.
Still it's hard to approach the man you swore that you hated.
...
She closes her eyes, knowing that the man that she told herself that she hated has the same coldness as her.
She wants to ask how does he live with it. She does not.
Does he also have a lifeline?
Something that made the cold a bit bearable?
Does his eyes feel dead?
Will he give up as she once wanted too?
Or does the coldness in him tells him to keep fighting?
Does he hurt?
She tries to sweep the thoughts from her mind as forces herself to sleep.
In her dreams she doesn't feel as cold, she can't help but wonder if that happens to him as well.
...
It was hardly a surprise when she could tell that they understood each other. After all they shared the same eyes.
...
She wonders if his coldness helps him as well it did to her in battle, that it was the coldness that made them strong to strike down the monsters that haunted them.
In one cruel twisted way the coldness was good.
It never felt good.
...
She can't tell how it started, but always at the strike at midnight, their eyes would met, they wouldn't say word.
They understood that words doesn't help with the cold.
They knew that for a long time.
They would sit still outside the cold wind surrounding them, she would play with scarf and he would sip his tea in was weird of holding the cup.
Neither would dare break the silence the hold through the night.
Words doesn't help.
But maybe silent understatement did.
...
Each and every night it was the same they would stay there look at the soulless eyes of each other, remind themselves that there was someone else with the same coldness.
He would sip his tea.
She would stare at the endless sky.
The coldness didn't end.
...
She wonders if people like themselves were born to feel this coldness, if they were the only strong enough to withhold the bitter cold that ate their hearts. Maybe they weren't strong maybe this was a cruel joke and they were the only weak ones, weak enough to let the cold devour them.
After all life was crueler than death
...
He was the first one to talk
He asked her why a filthy scarf was so important to her.
She looked at his eyes, something told her that he already knew why, regardless she still answer him the best way she could.
She told him that this scarf was her life line, it was the thing that helped her overcome the cold. It remind her that she shouldn't just feel cold. She needed that reminder.
After she answered he stayed silent other than his quite sipping of his tea there was no other sound that night.
...
On another night he handed her a cup of tea telling her that she better not let the cup fall down or he will make her clean the mess with her shitty scarf.
She accepted the cup with an angry glare from her part.
...
She asked him why he held the cup in a strange way, telling him that it wasn't enough that he was too short but he also needed to hold cups in a weird way.
He 'Tsked' her.
It took him ten minutes of silence, before he would share a story of a poor boy finding a small tea cup. That would be his greatest possession, the cup being filled with hot tea, tea that was meant to keep him warm that cold night. He told her how the cup broke and all the tea feel on the poor cold little boy.
All she could do is stare at him.
She understood.
And he did too.
The coldness didn't seem as hard as before.
...
This would happen every night, some nights they would stay silent, other night he would scold her for keeping a filthy, shitty scarf and she would tell him that he fight someone his own size. Some nights they would stay silent and stare at the dead eyes before them not believing that their was someone else as dead as them. A rare nights they would ask question they knew that was hard to answer.
They asked anyways.
That's how he find out about the story of a small girl seeing her parents being killed in front of her and how the girl felt too weak to fight.
That's how she figured the story of a young man being force to do anything to keep his friends alive, will to even fight the monsters that ruled above.
He understood what that scarf meant to her, and she knew what guilt that he held.
They simply understood, that was enough.
...
Their eyes held stories that shouldn't be told to anyone else but them.
...
The coldness never stop they both knew that no amount of understanding would ever kill the coldness in their hearts, they weren't idiots they both knew that.
But...
Understatement was enough because in some twisted way they both shared the coldness within just by knowing that both feel the harsh cold.
Because life is shitty and cruel to make them feel the cold, but they found themselves in each other and that was the beauty of it.
Suddenly the cold didn't seem as harsh as before.
This was a simple oneshot that hit my brain when I force myself to write one, if you find this on facebook then congrats you follow my Rivamika page (well it's not my page, but I am a admin there) I really hope you enjoyed this small oneshot and please leave a comment if you did as always nice to see you guys goodbye and goodnight- Blueheart 16