galliard's

a/n: I hope you like it, I'm so sad, my baby Pock :( ------------------------------ When you arrived on the island, you were immediately taken in, your services being put to use immediately, hemming and sizing uniforms for the new regime of soldiers being forged for the impending war. This was all part of a grand plan in the scheme of things; you were an inside source for your friends to help them make their way in more easily. When the decision came on who would be best, it was decided that you would be the right choice. You were borderline military but not involved in the fighting, more as an aid after battle, providing nourishment for recovery. It was there that you first met Porco, bringing in a tray of food to his temporary quarters in the latest battle. His eyes lingered on you, pulling you in. You couldn’t look away; you had his needs down to an exact science in a week. As time went on, he found you outside of military situations, making nervous small talk, piquing your interest. Now, here you were a few years later, after he pulled you in, and the pressure was on you. 

The door to the room where you worked was opening and closing the whole day; it was all going according to plan. The military of Paradis' army was growing in preparation for a planned attack. This time, the door opened to a familiar face. You sighed in relief, smiling, seeing who it was.

“Y/N?” Porco said, securing the door shut, locking it to give you two extra time. You dashed up from your table and ran over, embracing him, crying.

“I was so worried that something happened to you,” your head buried in his shoulder. His hand found the back of your head, pulling you tighter to him.

“I’m here, okay,” you pulled back, looking at him. He was just as scared as you were. You wiped your eyes and dragged him over, measuring him like everyone else, even though there was no need; you knew his size exactly. You handed him a uniform set, guiding him to where he could change. You sat waiting until he reappeared in the same green uniform you had sewn a thousand times by now. He looked at himself briefly, almost disgusted, before his focus returned to you. He sat across from you, and you were getting nervous; this was way longer than any sizing procedure had been, and you were already on thin ice for sneaking out clothes. 

“I’m sorry for putting you through this,” he said softly, taking your hand in his from the table, looking at all of the bumps and bruises from your capture. 

“It’s okay-” he cut you off.

“No, it’s not, none of this is okay, you shouldn’t-” he stopped. You brought his hand to your face, leaning into it. You felt your heart sink. The way he was looking at you, speaking to you, he was keeping something from you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” his voice trailed off.

“Porco,” There was a knock on the door, and you shot up out of his hand. The two of you stood up quickly. Slowly, you made your way to the door, but he stopped you.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here, okay. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if I-” another knock interrupted the two of you. 

“Be careful, please be careful,” you brushed your hand across his cheek. He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before heading off. 

The day of the attack, you were in your room, mending torn uniforms from training mindlessly, when it struck. You looked out the window, watching the carnage unfold. You tried to block it out, sending your worries to the back of your mind, focusing on the task at hand. The noise continued, your heart was pounding as the beams of yellow light started appearing one by one, you couldn’t help but look at this point. Your hands met your face, pulling at it nervously, and there he was. You had almost lost him the first time the two nations faced off; now, here you were again with that same pain in your stomach, watching him get beaten and broken once more. You pounded on the window, knowing it was no use as you watched the situation unfold, countless titans on the loose roaming freely, while he just lay there motionless.

“Get up,” you wept softly. You kept repeating the phrase over and over until he emerged from the body, a cloud of steam lingering around him. He looked up at the building you were in before stepping out of his titan body. You watched him limp out slowly through tear-filled eyes. You pounded on the window harder, yelling, sobbing.

“Don’t be the hero,” your voice broke as you watched him get devoured. You fell to the floor, and you couldn’t breathe; you were shattered into a million pieces. You lay there motionless like he did before, questioning why now? You had always known him to be stubborn and refuse to give up a fight, but he just surrendered to save someone he resented. You remained with your thoughts before your door burst open, your nose bleeding from crying, and your knuckles scraped from pounding the window. You turned to face the figure standing before you, despite everything that was going on around you. Someone came and found you. You slowly got up, grabbing what you had left as a memory of your now-deceased love: the clothes he left behind after getting his uniform. You clutched it tightly as the figure made your way closer to you. 

“We have to get out of here,” the soldier grabbed your arm.

“You stay the hell away from me,” you shouted back, before getting dizzy, grabbing at your nose, and pulling your arm free. You were dragged out of the building against your will. You had fainted, woken up in what looked like a medical area, and you looked at what rested on top of you, bringing you back to where you had come from. You grabbed at the clothes sitting on top of you through bandaged knuckles and began to cry once more. You stood up and made your way out, trying to remain unseen. When you stepped outside, you were met with the complete aftermath of what remained. You were broken, you knew nothing would ever be the same, not without him to keep you grounded. You kept replaying his voice in your head as you wandered, searching for any familiar face.

I’m sorry, it rang through your head, you laughed to yourself, your sad state now became angry, beating the clothes in your hand through pain, sorry, you chose to die, you thought. You pushed your way through crowds of people, your head down, staring at the clothes, holding them tighter to you, wishing that if you squeezed hard enough, he would come back. Eventually, you found your way into a forest, and you propped yourself against a tree, bundling yourself in his clothes. You imagined him lying next to you, his clothes keeping you warm as if he had tucked them over you himself. You put your hand on your cheek where he had last kissed you, breaking down all over again.