Not So Grim Anymore || Anxiousforhome
The indecision had been bothering her as of late, something she never would have thought of before the idea made itself present in her conscious state. Sitting at dinner she glanced towards her hand, uniform scars of past cuts on the palms of her hands indicating a steady hand with a goal in mind. Mikasa hated shifting, her titan form not necessarily huge, but no more help to mankind than she was as a human. She hadn’t even told Eren, that the experiments in his father’s basement weren’t solely for his son. Since then, she had only shifted when she wasn’t needed on the front lines, finding a certain thrill in picking up the ones she deemed scum of humanity by their shirt collars and snapping their necks. To please her conscious she reminded herself she was doing this to better the inside walls, to free them of murderers and greedy pigs.
She should tell Bertholdt, at least. If anyone could possibly even understand, it would be him. Drawn to his kind and quiet nature, part of the reason that- if she was honest with herself -she loved him. The thought of lying to him about her titan form any longer kept her up more often than not, knowing with Eren’s abilities she might be able to reveal herself without being killed. Even so, she still kept it to herself.
Picking up her tray, she moved to where Bertholdt sat, setting it beside him and greeting him with a kiss to the cheek. It wasn’t unusual for her to join him at meals, and most were used to their affections for one another despite the lack of titles that they used. “Good evening,” She murmured, pushing the food around on her plate but not truly eating. The thought of showing him twisted her stomach into knots, entertaining his reaction of rejection or even worse, fear.
She didn’t speak up for a few more minutes, content to be by his side. Her hand had found his, finding comfort in his usual firm grasp. If she could stay there where they were at that moment with her hand in his, she’d be satisfied.
"Bertholdt… Will you come with me when you’re finished? I have something to show you." It would be ideal to shift when most were preoccupied with showers and evening chores. With her palms sweating, she leaned against him, her grip tightening. If he did reject her, she was a monster, she wanted this to be a good memory.
