#aot black reader

His eyes shifted in her direction, blinking slowly, yet he said nothing. He just sat there and observed, as he was meant to.

Knowing what he now knew, knowing what needs to be done in order for life in Paradis to be sustainable and have a real future, Eren had a role to play: helpless soldier, mentally traumatized with PTSD, body damaged beyond repair—another useless Marleyan. It was all part of his plan. Hell, he was already a rogue, abandoning his family friends and fellow comrades in Paradis. He could just picture Levi stewing at his insubordination, Mikasa worrying, Armin endlessly babbling trying to come up with a logical reason for all this… he could picture all of them and how they would react to him leaving, clear as day. He knew them all well, after all.

They were his family.

Eren could no longer focus on that now, though. He had a job to do. One that would shake the world as they knew it. One that no one could possibly understand. A hard job, but someone had to do it.

Me. I’m that someone, he reminded himself.

“Sir?” The same nurse, the one with red hair, attempted to gain his attention again. “Sir, can you hear me?”

“Forget it, Patsy, he’s a mute,” the other nurse commented, clearly not as patient as her partner.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t hear you, Ingrid,” Patsy hissed. “Probably trauma, poor guy.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give him over to her so we can move on to the next.”

Her?

Patsy sighed, still feeling bad for the disfigured soldier before her.

“Mr. Kruger, we have a healer who will tend to your wounds. Hopefully, that’ll speed up the process, and you won’t be in so much pain after a while.”

Kind. Foolish. he thought, remaining silent.

With a sigh, she turned slightly. “Come. He’s ready.”

Eren’s eyes shifted slightly, just enough for him to follow where the nurse gazed, to whom she spoke. He hadn’t even seen the young woman sitting in the dark corner.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

For a while, there was no sound other than the nurses departing, their heels clapping against the stone floor and the door opening and shutting behind them.

“You’re different. You’re not like the others, I can tell.”

Though he still said nothing, she continued as if she knew he wondered how she could tell.

“I can feel it. You’re from one of the other nations, aren’t you?”

Neither are you, he thought as she finally stood directly in front of the bed he was seated upon. It was then Eren got a really good look at her.

She was striking. She looked to be about his age—healthy, well, healthy for the most part, which was a shock seeing how they treated the Eldians. Her eyes looked tired, as if all her energy had been spent, yet she tried to conceal it—from the other staff or from the patients, he wasn’t sure. Yet there was an aura about her that was both inviting and mysterious; he could almost feel it drawing him in.

Then there was her skin.

He’d only seen skin that color once, and that was on Onyakapon.

As she stood under the beaming lights used to examine him, he immediately took notice of how her brown skin radiated and glowed under the warm light, exuding a sense of richness and beauty that left him momentarily breathless. Her features were elegant, yet there was a distinct strength in her presence.

His eyes traveled to her hair, which was styled in a neat bun atop her head. It reminded him of the way Christa wore her hair, except higher. The curls and coils poking out, thick and textured, framed her face beautifully, showcasing her natural beauty.

He’d never seen anyone like her before.

“You’re perceptive,” Eren finally responded, earning a faint smirk from the young woman before him.

“When you’ve been here as long as I have…” she trailed off with a shrug as she began to undo some of the dressings on his wounds, presumably given to him once they found him on the battlefield. Some were sticking to his skin, holding on due to the dry blood that had caked around each wound.

“Surprised they trust me here with you alone,” he spoke after he beat his voice, still low, barely above a whisper.

“They know I won’t run.” It was then he noticed the chain around her ankle. “Surprised you can talk.”

Here against her will then, noted.

Eren hummed in response as he continued to watch her reach for the small square-like device on the table beside him. As she began to turn the knob, he could hear a faint clicking with each twist. It reminded him of the way the gears sounded when they would open the gate in Paradis.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a timer,” came the simple answer.

“Its purpose?” She frowned a bit at this question, wondering how he didn’t know what the small device in her hand was, but made no comment. Instead, she answered.

“It keeps track of the time for me while I work. I can only heal each afflicted area for one minute before I have to move on to the next. It’s their way of keeping me from exerting all my energy on one patient.”

“Heal?”

This time she didn’t answer, only slowly began sticking out her hand, hovering it above the cut next to his right eyebrow. She felt a sudden grip on her wrist—it wasn’t too tight but enough to hold her in place and keep her from advancing. Eren hadn’t even realized he did it. It was more or less a reflex.

She didn’t seem to mind, however, giving him a gentle smile—one he noticed didn’t quite reach her eyes, as if she were saying, ‘It’s okay,’ and he slowly let her go.

Eren watched with a curious gaze; her hand felt warm, emitting a slight glow. It reminded him of the flash of light you’d see when the Titans shifted. After a few moments of silence, she removed her hand.

“There. Feel better?”

“Much,” he answered, unable to hide all the surprise in his voice. While the cut didn’t actually hurt at all, he knew what it felt like for his body to heal.

The difference was, it felt as if something had gone in and forced his body to repair broken blood vessels and grow new tissue, all while soothing the injured area. The sensation was cool, reminding him of a salve or balm.

Interesting.

She worked in comfortable silence, and Eren let her do so, uninterrupted—healing and then cleaning up the remaining spots of dried blood. After ten minutes or so, he heard her exhale, giving him a once-over before checking the sheet one of the nurses had left behind.

“Three more spots to go,” she announced.

“You been here long?” Eren asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“I’ve been here for as long as I can remember.”

“So forever, then?”

“No, not forever. I had a family once,” she shared while she worked, her movements calculated and smooth. “One that loved me. The island I lived on wasn’t perfect, but it was a happy place. I was…”

“You were what?” He encouraged her to continue.

“Free.”

Free.

Something Eren never felt he’d truly experience, not in this lifetime. A truth he’d never spoken aloud, as he didn’t think anyone else was aware of the invisible shackles that tied them to this world, the curse that had been placed on all Eldians. It was a bit bewildering to speak to another human who was self-aware of the hand dealt to them.

She was quiet after that, and Eren didn’t bother to strike up a conversation. This was his first day here, after all, and he still had loads of ground to cover as well as information to gather.

He was certain he found who he was looking for; now he had to be sure he could trust her. For now, though, he wouldn’t push her. He was sure this wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other.

“I’m afraid I can’t do much for your leg today. Those kinds of energies take a little bit more out of me when it comes to healing larger wounds. They’ve already put you on the list for that, though, so take a few more days.”

Confirmed.

“Hopefully, I was able to give you a bit of peace. The fatigue you feel is normal, so try not to feel too alarmed. Try to get some rest; it’ll help with the healing process.”

Eren gave a short nod as she discarded the bloodied towels and rags from tending to him.

“I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Kruger.”

“Thank you.” He uttered as she opened the door. Turning her head slightly he could see yet another faint smile on her face.