2dsheep:

Because @eruri-smackerman and I love an anguished Erwin

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The sound of the crackling hearth soothed
Erwin somewhat. Cherished memories of winter nights spent in his father’s lap
resurfaced in his mind. At night they would sit together on his father’s
armchair; it was the only time he was allowed to do so. Its cushions were a
dark green, much like the moss that spread over the rocks and trees near the
river behind his house. It boasted a dark, hardwood trim, floral carvings
running down the length of the arm. They would sit and read together with their
feet stretched towards the warmth of the fire, often staying up long past Erwin’s
bedtime.

He could still remember the sound of his
father’s voice, so much softer than his own. Everything about him spoke of
gentleness. A man like that deserved a kinder fate, a long, peaceful life. A man such
as his father should have been granted a better son.

Erwin placed the lid back on the inkpot; the nib
of his quill had dried long ago despite the pile of papers beckoning his
attention. He stood, the ache in his shoulders weighing heavy on his body.
Levi would reprimand him for spending too much time at his desk. He was always
causing worry for that man. Erwin had always been inconsiderate of others,
placing his own needs first. Such a selfish creature.

He walked to the fireplace, welcoming the roll
of warmth against his thighs, but immediately thought of his men training in
the yard, manning the gates, tending to the horses in stables slowly falling victim
to the encroach of frost. Yet all day he had sat in a warm, spacious office which
he acquired through promises of victory that he has never been sure he could
follow through. It would have remained unlit were it not for a certain Captain’s
insistence that morning.

Even so, he moved closer. A little too close
perhaps, but something dark in him relished the sting of heat on his skin.

The mantelpiece was bare save for two candle
holders, the wax threatening to spill the next time they are lit. There was
nothing personal in this office. Erwin could only mourn the wasted hours of
paperwork that would be lost if this office burned to the ground.  He looked into the mirror that hung on the
wall above the fireplace. The fire whipped orange across his face, and the glow
of lit coal gave prominence to the dark rings under his eyes. He looked tired. In
fact, he looked downright miserable. Nothing at all like his father. His
father’s eyes were aged, but they burned bright with life; curiosity and wonder
beamed from those sky-like blues, lighting up every time he had the chance to
teach Erwin something new.

Erwin thought his own eyes looked burned out,
an unsightly blend of ash and ice, with an unsettling, piercing gaze. The angles of his face were harsh, the lines cut sharp and
deep. His eyebrows that had provoked schoolyard teasing seemed irrelevant when
compared to the rest of his features as he had aged.

He remembered something his mother had once said.

“You’ll grow up to be such a handsome young
man. Just like your father was.”

He supposed he could call that another failure
to add to his growing list.

Erwin stared at his reflection until his eyes blurred,
focusing on nothing. He wanted to wrench the
mirror off of the wall and throw it to the ground, smashing his image to countless
pieces.

His fingers itched to do it. He almost did.
His arms had been reaching out to grab hold of the frame when the door behind
him opened. There was no knock, which could only mean one thing.

 “Levi.”

 “You didn’t come to dinner, again.”

 He seemed like he was trying his best to sound
angry, slamming the door behind him.

“It will affect the soldier’s morale if you
make it seem you don’t want to dine with them. Even more so if you pass out
during training because you’re not eating or something pathetic like that,” he
huffs, his boots pounding against the floorboards. Erwin dragged his eyes from
his reflection and turned round. Levi was carrying a tray of food towards the
desk where he pushed the paperwork aside and set it down. This had become a
habit of his, recently.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, Levi.”

“Someone has to.”

And again, he becomes another burden. How many
more backs must he stand on in order to reach his goal? How many more people
can he push into the ground beneath him, just to inch that little bit higher?

“Are you going to eat or not?”

When Levi had first asked that question it had
been a demand, a harsh snap before closing the door. With each visit, his voice
had become softer, a gentleness that Erwin, admittedly, would never have expected
from him.

The softness in his voice must be down to a
sort of resignation. Erwin damaged everything he touched, weakened what was
strong.  He was the storm that snuffed
out the light.

Erwin moved to return to his desk, catching a
last glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face looked almost demonic, the flames
that danced behind the grate burnt through his skin, revealing the devil that
hid beneath human flesh.  

Was this how Levi saw him? No. No, he had
fooled Levi, just like he had managed to fool the rest of them.

He sat at his desk, frowning at a creased
piece of paper caught under the tray. He realised that Levi was still stood
there, arms crossed in that stance of his. His eyebrows were slightly creased but
his eyes were soft. Erwin had learned that this usually signalled concern.

Erwin had been noticing a lot of things about
his Captain recently.

Like how he refused to use the standard issue
cleaning products and instead bought his own from town on his days off, or how
his eyes smiled the time a fellow soldier had gifted him with some sweet goods
from a trip to their home town. And most recently, he had discovered that Levi
would sit on the roof and look up at the stars on nights he couldn’t sleep. He
wondered how much more there was to learn about this man.

“Erwin, you should know –”

Their eyes met and Levi faltered. His mouth
parted but no more words came out. He looked almost pained, like the words were
barbed wire wrapping round and piercing his tongue, leaving him to choke on
his own blood.

Levi closed his mouth and gave a small cough.

“Just…just make sure you take your tray down
to the kitchen when you’re done. I refuse to clean up after you as well.”

And with that, he was gone. Out of the room
without so much as a nod.

For some reason, Erwin wanted to call him
back. An urge to rest his hand on Levi’s shoulder, and request that he finish
what he was about to say. Erwin suddenly felt so alone, more than he had all day. Levi’s office only had a small fireplace; surely he was cold in there.
Should he call him back?

But then, Levi’s footsteps were gone and Erwin was left with only the hiss of burning coal and the winter wind beating at the
glass behind him.

 What business did he have trying to tend to
Levi in any case? Erwin thought back to that day in the rain; he on his knees
and Levi’s sword to his throat. He had almost fooled himself with that touching
speech. The words that people needed to hear fell easily from his mouth.
Syllables laced in gold and sugar dripped from his tongue, and even he savoured
a taste from time to time.

Erwin spooned some of the stew Levi had
brought him into his mouth. It tasted bland. He couldn’t remember the last time
he enjoyed the taste of food, clearly preferring to swallow his own deceit. 

He thought back to the autumn of his tenth year, when the famine had struck. His father hadn’t once cursed those in Sina who had yet to experience a single morsel of food denied to them. He didn’t complain about the hunger pains, simply smiled through the growling of his stomach while he took food from his own plate and placed it on Erwin’s. 

Levi had told him, on one of the rare occasions he stayed in this office long enough for a short chat, that living in the underground was like a life-time famine, and days would go by where he would think of nothing but his next meal. 

Erwin finished his dinner, not wanting to dismiss Levi’s efforts, but it did nothing to diminish the guilt that burned the lining of his stomach. He ate and he lived to see another day. Would he make it another ten years and live longer than his father had a chance to?

 Life had been too kind to Erwin. He drifted through life unscathed and instead he was the infectious being that tainted all those that neared him. He had ruined his father, he had ruined the lives of countless men following his orders, and he would most certainly ruin Levi, in time. Burn him from the inside until his skin splits and he ignites, crumbling into ash. 

Ignoring the beating in his temples Erwin returned to his paperwork, but only after silently praying that they would all hear his pleas of forgiveness from the depths of hell.