Break Me ((ONLY TWO LEFT? AINT HAPPENIN))
Leave a “Break Me” in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters. ((Really Claire? Really??? Have you not gotten enough of angst yet?????))
Her voice was but a mere whisper, soft and almost faded into the wind. It was nearly inaudible, even to herself but he heard her. He always did. The faint shuffle behind her told her all that she needed to know.
“You’re here again today."
She heard his footsteps cease, the last crunch of his shoes against the snow before silence befell them once more.
“It’s snowing today." Stretching her arms out, Mikasa felt the slight tug of her lips, only to feel how frozen the muscles were, eventually giving up her attempt of a smile. "Just like that day."
Her ears caught the uncomfortable shuffling, of the way his thick, black coat would rustle with his every movement. The wind continued to pick up and the young raven shivered at the sudden drop in temperature, tugging the blanket closer to herself, depending on it to shield away the frost-biting cold.
“I want to build a snowman," she eventually declared, dull silver hues staring straight before her, into the sight of emptiness. "I thought I’d never want to miss riding a horse again, but I want to right now. I want to see the sea, I want to swim in it. I’ve never seen it but I heard it’s really beautiful."
Words continued to spill out of her mouth, as though the dam in her had finally broken, the normally reserved female talking so much for the first time in her life, her jaws actually ached from the effort. She wondered distractedly how her more chipper classmates could have done so without tiring themselves.
“I want to fight you, Claire."
The only response she received was a slow shake of the other’s head, his red eyes downcast even in his silent reply.
“I…see." Her tone was resigned, voice trembling slightly as she spoke her understanding. "It’s because of these, isn’t it. It’s because you pity me, you don’t want to fight me, isn’t it."
Dark ashen orbs turned their hateful gaze towards her legs, or where they would have been. Instead in place of them, were bandaged stumps whose sight merely disgusted the soldier. Once Humanity’s Strongest now reduced to nothing but a useless person, unable to function if she was without her wheelchair.
“Kill me, Claire," she begged, her voice raspy when she finally turned her gaze to her sparring partner, envy burning in her eyes as she took in the way he walked towards her, his legs strong and supple, bearing his entire weight. Looked at him as though it was a living sin.
But it was the guilt that shone in those cruel, cruel crimsons that made Mikasa’s fury disappear. She knew it wasn’t his fault, it was no one’s fault but there was no one else she could blame, no one else she could direct the hatred that stemmed from her torment to.
“Kill me, and spare us both this torture."
It wasn’t the first time she had requested it. And just as always when she did, the assassin merely stood by her side, quietly, silently as he accompanied her, accompanied the endless tears that flowed from her eyes, the tortured choked sobs that escaped her.
“Then live with the knowledge of my hatred for you.”
