MikeNana. Drabble. Something random. Feel free to kick me from this ship whenever. Very old.
It's ten days in when he notices, long before she does; little changes in her normally so mute of behaviour, a light snappiness to her words to her comrades at inexplicable points, though more than anything, her scent; there's something heavy to it, less of a soft note, something brazen and warm. A month passes: she grows aloof and somewhat cold to him, dodging his thin, grey gaze and presence whenever possible, never outside of militant constraints. He elects to approach her... the scent's grown rather pungent. There's a soft sternness to his eyes as he pierces the mute blue gaze of his second in command, swiping an index finger over the bridge of his nose as he moves to speak.
He nods rather stiffly. "Yeah."
He studies her a second; her soft, muted, rather androgynous features, the sternness to her pale blonde brow against him despite his superiority to her as her commanding officer.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You knew before I did, Sir."
A downward curve paints the thin, well-trimmed hair of his upper lip.
"Don't do that, Nanaba. I mean it. Why didn't you tell me?" He's grown rather restless.
Her responses are flat and distant, piercing the man she's come to share such relations with. This was never part of the plan. "It doesn't concern you, Mike. It's my personal life."
"I'm your personal life."
"You can't command me on this, Sir. If you want to discharge me, then so be it. I don't intend to withdraw. Like you said, this isn't over until the last of Humanity ceases to fight."
"Nanaba." A soft tone. He's aggravated, she can tell. Though he's never been one to really show it. The way he says her name, with the softening to a brow that is normally so strong and certain, causes her jaw to clench lightly, her pale blonde browline breaking ever so slightly over mute, ash blue eyes.
"No, Mike." She won't have him getting involved in this. She doesn't intend to stop fighting until she's forced to and won't connect him to it at all costs; when it starts to show, if asked, she already intends to call it a civilian fling. She will not bring down Humanity's Second Strongest.
And she doesn't have to. Just weeks later, the titans accomplish so for her without her presence; without her knowledge... during the false breach of Wall Rose. It's not until her Squad returns-- Gerger, Lynne, Henning-- bruised and battered, though alive, all of them-- to be greeted by Commander Erwin --not Mike; not her lover and leader and comrade-- with the sternest of gazes that she realises something's wrong.
Those words. Oh, those words. She joined the military with hopes to reach such a post one day; but she doesn't want this one and she certainly doesn't want it now. Her breath hitches in her throat, doing her all to hold back the tears that threaten her lower lids, an intense heat flooding her nose and brow as she returns his words swiftly with the most powerful of salutes; her fist over her heart as if she were swearing that precious organ to humanity. Though she isn't... and hasn't been for years. That heavy, pulsing sack that fills her blood with oxygen belongs to a man, the man that would have been the father to the child in her belly should he have returned and should she have allowed him to be involved. Though-- minutes from now, in the infirmary, she'll come to know that there was never a reason to push him away. She never would have had to bring down Humanity's Second Strongest.
