Categories > Anime/Manga > Attack on Titan > It's All a Matter of Patience
A memory.
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1848, Military Academy, Wall Rose
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The shadows of her unconsciousness were torn asunder by her own awakening. Annie bolted upright with a gasp, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings.
The girl's dorm. She was fine. She was alive, safe. No nightmares. What had she been dreaming?
There was no clarity, only concept. Hands. She'd been dreaming of contact, physical and psychological, quick and fluid. Sparring? Not with her father. No, this was different—there had been something more to this dream than a simple skirmish. It had been rawer than that, imperative and strange and not entirely unpleasant.
A twitch ran through her at the thought, like a reflex, instinctive. The reason for this occurred to her; she attempted to ignore it, yet it lingered, a slow, vacillating pulse in her loins.
She laid her head in her hands, let her breath out in a sharp, frustrated hiss.
Fuck.
Not this again.
"Again?" Mina asked, snappishly.
Annie didn't reply. Her pulse hammered violently in her chest. She felt foolish, unguarded. This wasn't part of the plan.
Mina scoffed from somewhere to her left. Annie gave a start, wheeled round to find her bunkmate at the very edge of their bunk, knees folded tightly against her chest. She lifted her head to glower at her, then to seethe, "Look, if you aren't going to do something about this, then I will."
Annie returned her gaze with the coldest expression she could muster in her vulnerable state.
"We're not discussing this."
"Yes, we are!" Mina snapped, rounding on her. "I am not putting up with this for one more night, do you hear me? I swear to God, Ann—"
"I thought I made myself clear, Carolina," Annie said quietly. "We're not discussing it." It was satisfying to watch her face change, nearly incoherent with fury, then disbelief, then a fresh wave of anger.
"Don't you Carolina me," Mina hissed, now fully on the warpath. "At least I'm not the one who can't work up the nerve to talk to some boy!"
Anger sparked within her mind. "This has nothing to do with him."
Mina rolled her eyes. "You won't even use his name! It's got everything to do with him, and you know it. So if you'd kindly stop being such a goddamn arse, you might end up a little happier."
"Go back to bed, Mina."
"How am I supposed to get any sleep when you won't stop lying to yourself about him?"
"This isn't your problem."
"Well, pardon me for caring, but, as I'm your friend, I think I should be allowed the privilege of..." Mina trailed off as Annie sat up and threw her legs over the cot.
"If it'll shut you up," she muttered, "then, fine. I'll go."
Mina was oddly quiet, probably in shock from this turn of events.
Annie smiled to herself.
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1850, Scout Regiment HQ
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An hour and a half to curfew.
Annie shifted slightly in her seat, waiting to make her move. She was never impatient, never too obvious. A casual glance up every now and then, calculating the chances of slipping out with him and a lantern in tow, undetected. It certainly wouldn't be easy. The security here offered far more of a challenge than the Military Police. They'd have to make their move at just the right moment; not too late, not too early.
Of course, this did not deter her. The issue of drawing attention was not what irked her—it was almost fun, in a sense. Like a sport, or a challenge. And these days, trapped within the monotony of inactivity, a challenge such as this was greatly desired.
So when the majority of the others Scouts had left, she got up and joined the stragglers, not the first to leave, nor the last. She let them sweep her up in their flow and moved with intent towards her cell, discouraging suspicion.
She caught sight of him as he headed down the hall ahead of her. He was moving slower than she was, unperturbed. Her pace did not waver as she walked up beside him and let her shoulder brush his forearm. Eren slowed, turned with a jolt as he recognised her.
"Annie? What's—"
He stopped talking at the look she threw him. His eyes swept up and down the hall, then fixed on her once more. She motioned for him to follow her with a discreet glance. Annie, meanwhile, copied his behavior but found no guards present to detain them.
They turned down a hall, then another, then walked on for a minute or two. She stopped, struck by a sense of déjà vu. It was broken when Annie grasped his shoulder, leant up to him on her toes so that his hair just brushed the skin of her temple.
"Meet me out by the sheds," she muttered, "in an hour."
He had no reply. She stood back, raised her eyebrows as if to say: Well, can you?
Eren merely offered her a crooked, boyish sort of grin.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
1848, Military Academy, Wall Rose
___________________________________________________________________________________________
The shadows of her unconsciousness were torn asunder by her own awakening. Annie bolted upright with a gasp, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings.
The girl's dorm. She was fine. She was alive, safe. No nightmares. What had she been dreaming?
There was no clarity, only concept. Hands. She'd been dreaming of contact, physical and psychological, quick and fluid. Sparring? Not with her father. No, this was different—there had been something more to this dream than a simple skirmish. It had been rawer than that, imperative and strange and not entirely unpleasant.
A twitch ran through her at the thought, like a reflex, instinctive. The reason for this occurred to her; she attempted to ignore it, yet it lingered, a slow, vacillating pulse in her loins.
She laid her head in her hands, let her breath out in a sharp, frustrated hiss.
Fuck.
Not this again.
"Again?" Mina asked, snappishly.
Annie didn't reply. Her pulse hammered violently in her chest. She felt foolish, unguarded. This wasn't part of the plan.
Mina scoffed from somewhere to her left. Annie gave a start, wheeled round to find her bunkmate at the very edge of their bunk, knees folded tightly against her chest. She lifted her head to glower at her, then to seethe, "Look, if you aren't going to do something about this, then I will."
Annie returned her gaze with the coldest expression she could muster in her vulnerable state.
"We're not discussing this."
"Yes, we are!" Mina snapped, rounding on her. "I am not putting up with this for one more night, do you hear me? I swear to God, Ann—"
"I thought I made myself clear, Carolina," Annie said quietly. "We're not discussing it." It was satisfying to watch her face change, nearly incoherent with fury, then disbelief, then a fresh wave of anger.
"Don't you Carolina me," Mina hissed, now fully on the warpath. "At least I'm not the one who can't work up the nerve to talk to some boy!"
Anger sparked within her mind. "This has nothing to do with him."
Mina rolled her eyes. "You won't even use his name! It's got everything to do with him, and you know it. So if you'd kindly stop being such a goddamn arse, you might end up a little happier."
"Go back to bed, Mina."
"How am I supposed to get any sleep when you won't stop lying to yourself about him?"
"This isn't your problem."
"Well, pardon me for caring, but, as I'm your friend, I think I should be allowed the privilege of..." Mina trailed off as Annie sat up and threw her legs over the cot.
"If it'll shut you up," she muttered, "then, fine. I'll go."
Mina was oddly quiet, probably in shock from this turn of events.
Annie smiled to herself.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
1850, Scout Regiment HQ
___________________________________________________________________________________________
An hour and a half to curfew.
Annie shifted slightly in her seat, waiting to make her move. She was never impatient, never too obvious. A casual glance up every now and then, calculating the chances of slipping out with him and a lantern in tow, undetected. It certainly wouldn't be easy. The security here offered far more of a challenge than the Military Police. They'd have to make their move at just the right moment; not too late, not too early.
Of course, this did not deter her. The issue of drawing attention was not what irked her—it was almost fun, in a sense. Like a sport, or a challenge. And these days, trapped within the monotony of inactivity, a challenge such as this was greatly desired.
So when the majority of the others Scouts had left, she got up and joined the stragglers, not the first to leave, nor the last. She let them sweep her up in their flow and moved with intent towards her cell, discouraging suspicion.
She caught sight of him as he headed down the hall ahead of her. He was moving slower than she was, unperturbed. Her pace did not waver as she walked up beside him and let her shoulder brush his forearm. Eren slowed, turned with a jolt as he recognised her.
"Annie? What's—"
He stopped talking at the look she threw him. His eyes swept up and down the hall, then fixed on her once more. She motioned for him to follow her with a discreet glance. Annie, meanwhile, copied his behavior but found no guards present to detain them.
They turned down a hall, then another, then walked on for a minute or two. She stopped, struck by a sense of déjà vu. It was broken when Annie grasped his shoulder, leant up to him on her toes so that his hair just brushed the skin of her temple.
"Meet me out by the sheds," she muttered, "in an hour."
He had no reply. She stood back, raised her eyebrows as if to say: Well, can you?
Eren merely offered her a crooked, boyish sort of grin.
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