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Bertolt was the only person left sitting at the table in this noisy crowded place. Everyone was doing something else: dancing, eating, drinking... socializing... and why shouldn't they be enjoying themselves? They had made it through two years of training so far, and they were still alive. Not everyone could say that they had made it this far; many trainees had dropped out or had been killed during training by this point. Two years living this life... some days it felt like a miracle that he had gotten this far. This was a real accomplishment.
From this spot near the middle of the large table, Bertolt could see Reiner drinking and dancing with the group, and he wasn't a terrible dancer. He moved too fast, but he was fluid and limber and shameless with some of those provocative moves. From this angle, it looked like he was actually riding Connie's leg. Reiner had asked Bertolt to dance with them, but the very idea was embarrassing... being out in the spotlight like that was so uncomfortable. Everyone looking and watching and judging him... there was no need for all that. And anyway, he thought, they would probably only make fun of him if he tried. Connie made fun of everything. Reiner hadn't pressed the issue, and he had gone off to have fun without Bertolt. Reiner didn't need him at all. Occasionally, he didn't even seem like himself, as he talked about getting rid of all the titans and reclaiming the world for humanity, even when no one else was around to listen in to the discussion. Reiner was almost a true soldier now... loyal and brave and strong... fighting for humanity... sometimes, it really seemed like he was... well... compromised.
Compromised. What a horrifying thought. Pressing his fingers to the sides of his filled drink, Bertolt glanced toward the outskirts of the dance floor area, looking around for Annie. Annie. If ever anyone was a true warrior, it had to be Annie. She was strong and fierce, and she really, really didn't let any of these people get to her. She always talked to the others with the most impassive expression that he had ever seen, and she was clever and strategic and strong-willed. Annie was something to aspire to. Reiner ought to take a lesson from her. He didn't listen to Bertolt much anymore except to tell him to stop worrying about everything... you should just hang out with us some more; that'll take your mind off your stress. Why would Bertolt want to spend more time with these people than he needed to? That seemed like such an easy way to lose one's focus. He needed to keep away from these people as much as possible. He could never let these people get to him, not like Reiner. Reiner over there, hollering and making a fool of himself and having fun... Annie would never ride on Connie's leg like Reiner was doing. The mental image was so ridiculous that Bertolt smiled a little bit as he continued to look for her.
She wasn't at the buffet area, where Sasha was taking up residence at the moment, with Krista watching in concern while Ymir laughed. Annie wasn't hanging out in the doorway, where her friend Mina was standing and eating a pastry, talking to Marco. And Annie wasn't with Mikasa, who leaned alone against the wall, staring off into the center of the crowded dance area. Perhaps Annie was in the restroom area then?
Or maybe Annie had left the event already. She had never been that interested in big social events; she was kind of like him in that regard. The two of them really did have things in common, even if she didn't acknowledge it. He might have left too already, if he didn't have to keep an eye on them. Bertolt swirled his drink around, just to have something to do. He didn't even like the taste of it. It's an acquired taste, Reiner had told him earlier, but Bertolt wasn't sure that he cared to acquire it.
Bertolt sighed, looking back at Mikasa by the wall, who continued to stare intently toward the middle of the dance area. Eren was most likely dancing there. Of course she would be keeping an eye on Eren. Everywhere Eren was, Mikasa seemed to be too, watchful and protective. Bertolt could understand that. He followed her sharp gaze and found Eren dancing, just as he suspected... except...
Wait...
Eren was dancing...
Dancing...
With...
Annie?
What?
Seriously?
Seriously?
Bertolt watched, his eyes wide. He could feel sweat prickling at his hairline as it gathered quickly. It wasn't a super intimate dance or anything. She wasn't gyrating on Eren. Not like Reiner over there gyrating on Connie... and Jean now, apparently. Eren and Annie had a bit more space between them. A few centimeters, it looked like. But they were touching. They were holding hands. Oh God... yes, they were definitely holding hands... their fingers weren't laced up together, but Annie's little hands were resting in Eren's undeserving, calloused fingers. The two of them rocked back and forth, lacking rhythm... maybe they were self-conscious or something... Did they really need to be holding hands, though? Eren was laughing about something, even though he was awkward-looking and his every movement was stiff. Annie wasn't laughing... he would have really known something was off, if she had been laughing!... but the corner of her mouth was quirked up just slightly. Practically a smile! Her face was relaxed. Was she pleased to be dancing with him? Had she ever looked at Bertolt like that, in all the years they had known each other? Or Reiner?
That... that wasn't really fair, was it? He and Reiner were Annie's comrades. They were her friends! Like, her true friends. They were the ones who knew who she really was. Eren was not Annie's real friend. Annie wasn't forgetting who her real friends were... was she? Not... not like Reiner... Reiner, who forgot who he really was, or where they came from, or why they were here... sometimes. He remembered, more often than not. Reiner wasn't gone. Not... not yet... Reiner was still here.
Was Annie going to forget too? What if Annie forgot who they were and why they were here? What if, while Annie was training, she reminded the other soldiers that they were fighting to destroy the titans--especially the Colossal and Armored Titan? What would Bertolt do then? His chest ached at the idea. Then... then he would be the only one left who knew their mission, who had destroyed humankind. Then he would be all alone, even more alone than being the only one here at this table for thirty. The worst enemy of all humanity, all alone. Maybe this was his punishment; maybe this was how it was supposed to be... no... no, that couldn't be. He couldn't do this alone. He had thought Annie was stronger than that. She was, though. Of course she was. His neck felt damp from sweating. He had been keeping an eye on her for months now... but what if he hadn't been watchful enough? What if... what if Annie... what if Annie was compromised? And Reiner? What if... what if now... Bertolt really was alone...?
He swallowed, trying to keep a neutral expression, and he looked down at his mostly full cup. He would have to confront her about this. It wouldn't be a comfortable conversation... but at least he would have an excuse to talk to her. He had to be sure that she wasn't losing sight of their mission. Of course she wasn't... Annie wouldn't...
He watched Annie's little fingers curve around Eren's.
Bertolt's face suddenly felt quite hot, and he kept his gaze away for the next few seconds, trying to decelerate his heart beat. He would do anything to make Annie look at him like that. Didn't he deserve that? Eren hardly even knew her. Not Eren. Not thoughtless, loud Eren. Bertolt was ranked third so far in their graduating class... far above Eren! Why would Annie even want to dance with Eren? With that scrawny body he had, and those long arms and that irritating, aggressive attitude. But then... at least Eren didn't visibly sweat when asked to speak in front of a group of two or more. At least Eren was assertive and sure about what he wanted in life. At least Eren was closer to Annie's own height. It would be easier for Eren to kiss her. Had they done that? Oh God. Eren was probably a passionate, purposeful kisser. And sloppy. Eren would get drool all over his partner's face. But saliva was a small price to pay, though, for the soft feeling of someone else's lips touching one's own. Surely, Annie would enjoy kissing Eren...
Bertolt withdrew a small handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the sheen of sweat that had developed over his brow. When had the temperature increased so much in here?
He balled the damp handkerchief in his lap, bitter as he watched their little dance end with the completion of the band's song. He watched Armin appear and join them, and Annie excused herself. Good old Armin. Bertolt imagined that Annie didn't even tell them that she was leaving; she just walked off, just as she usually did when she was finished speaking to him and Reiner.
Oh hell... but now she was coming toward the table. Where he was. He hoped that she would sit next to him, to rest. But there was a whole table's worth of seating available.
Annie sat down, turned away from him as she sat exactly two seats away from him to his left; if he had reached his arm out, he could have touched her. Annie didn't acknowledge him. She had sat in the seat she had eaten her dinner at; of course she had, since she still had a cup of water here at the table. Bertolt strained to listen to her breathing, noticing that her exhalations were coming slightly faster than they would have ordinarily. It was hard to count to precise number a midst all the general noise, but he knew her breathing rate was elevated. But Annie was so physically fit, though. She shouldn't be out of breath at all. The act of dancing should not be taking her breath away. He didn't want to think about what else around her could have been making her a little breathless...
To distract himself from these thoughts, Bertolt lifted his cup to his lips and took a drink.
It was a mistake.
The beverage had been sitting out for a while, untouched, and it was bitter and too warm. Bertolt coughed and sputtered loudly on his attempt to swallow it down, and he covered his mouth, spitting up the remnants into his hands. He cleared his throat as quickly as possible, keeping his face down. In his peripheral vision, he saw Annie slowly turn her face toward him. He could feel the sweat running down the sides of his face and neck; what if everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at him? What if they were all staring? And then he wouldn't just be the big, tall, quiet trainee... he would be the trainee who couldn't even take a sip of this stupid drink without going into a wild coughing fit! He should have never come to this event... he should have said that he wasn't feeling well... he wouldn't have been missed...
The music continued, however... and no one called out his name. As he looked up, he noticed that no one had even really looked over. Everyone was just having too much fun to notice him.
Silently, Annie brushed something across the table to him; a wrinkly napkin. She didn't even look at him as she did so.
Appreciative, but still remotely ashamed, Bertolt took the disgruntled napkin and hastened to wipe his face and hands and the collar of his shirt, though it looked as though the new stain wouldn't be coming out until it was washed again.
He looked back to Annie, who had her arms crossed over her chest as she glared off into the distance, away from him. At least she wasn't glaring at him, he supposed. And her breathing had already calmed down. Maybe she really did feel some kind of friendship bond to him and Reiner. She didn't have to offer him her napkin.
"Thank you," Bertolt said.
Annie didn't respond.
Bertolt followed her gaze to somewhere in the middle of the sweaty, dancing bodies. The place where she had left Eren and Armin. What was she thinking about them? Or was she just staring off into the distance? Maybe it was only a coincidence that her eyes had fallen near the two of them. It was nothing, right? Annie didn't care about them... right? Annie slouched in her seat. It was so bad for her back. She would ignore him if he mentioned it, though. He watched her sight-line move toward Mikasa at the wall, and he saw Annie's lips press together in a quarter of a smirk. What was she thinking about? It was driving him crazy.
"I saw you dancing," Bertolt said abruptly. "With... with Eren."
Annie looked right over to him, pursing her lips together into a flat line. "So what."
He cleared his throat, fumbling around with the wet napkin. He didn't want to say it... but they had to talk about it sometime... "So... so, it kind of seems like you are getting... compromised."
She arched an eyebrow and glanced around briefly. Maybe to make sure that no one was listening in to their conversation. There were people everywhere. Anyone could hear them. He hadn't been specific or anything, but still. Oh God, maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. No, no... there wasn't a need to worry, She would just assure him that of course she wasn't compromised, and there was nothing to worry about. You and Reiner are my most trusted confidantes, she would say. There's no need to worry.
Annie finally answered. "Why were you watching me?"
"I'm just looking out for you," Bertolt explained, frowning. That wasn't even the important part of what she had said! "And you were dancing with Eren. Of all people!"
She rolled her eyes. "You need to leave me alone."
Bertolt was afraid to speak any louder, so he moved closer to her, her damp napkin closed in one of his fists. "Annie, it's Eren, " he repeated insistently. "Eren, who hates titans most out of anyone here! He's... he's our enemy! You can't trust him. You can't trust any of them."
Annie glared at him as though he was the enemy. "I'm not stupid," she replied.
"Me... me and Reiner are the only ones here who are your real friends," he continued, an almost pleading note affecting his voice in spite of his best efforts. "We're the only ones you can trust. We're the ones who will still be here for you, once all this is over. Not... not them. Not Eren. If you get attached to him... you could be compromising our mission."
"I'm not compromising anything," Annie retorted. "So just calm down about it and mind your own business."
"Wh-what if you have to kill him?" Bertolt asked. "You know you might. What... what then? What... what if Eren gets in the way of our mission?"
"Then I would kill him," she said it like it didn't even matter.
"Would you? I... I saw you... you were holding his hand."
Annie scowled at him, her eyes unflinching and cold. "I am dedicated to our mission. I would kill anyone who got in the way." Her eyes glittered in the dim light of the room. Including you, they seemed to say.
"Okay," Bertolt said, though he was not entirely convinced. He watched her clench her fists together a few times, like a little heartbeat. "I... I would really hate to have to take you down for c-compromising our mission. I know you have one of the highest hand-to-hand combat scores in our class... but... th-that wouldn't really be relevant... for us..."
Annie stared at him, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second. He felt a touch of satisfaction; he must have driven the point home. It was so important that she feel like everything was at stake here... because it was. She needed to be fully invested in the mission; she could not have anything distracting her. She could not forget what was important. He wouldn't be able to keep this up, if she lost track of herself too...
"So, you're threatening me?" Her tone was still calm and disinterested... but it had taken on a sharp edge that he often associated with danger.
"No," Bertolt swallowed. His bangs stuck to his forehead from the perspiration. "No, that's not it... I wanted to remind you of what's important. Our mission is what's important. Not any of them. Especially Eren. They all hate us. If... if they knew what you really were..."
"Enough!" she snapped, and even though her voice hadn't gotten any louder, it was clear that he had struck a nerve. She glowered, leaning closer to him and lowering her voice. His heart raced wildly. He thought for a moment that she might throttle him, or even shove him off the seat he sat on. He almost wished that she would. "Don't you lecture me. I am not like Reiner. I know where my heart is. I know exactly what my mission is. Don't believe for one second that you know what I am thinking. I am not compromised. Maybe it's you that is compromising the mission, by obsessing with everything that I'm doing! I don't have to explain myself to you."
She squinted as she silently judged him for a moment, and then she pushed off from the table with both hands and stood up. To leave him alone again.
"Wait..." Bertolt reached out as she rose, catching her hand by the fingertips. "Wait," he repeated, and didn't let go even though she had stopped in place. Waiting, as he requested. Maybe she really was listening. Her hand was limp under his contact, but she didn't pull it away. Yet. Instead, she stared at it. Her skin was so cool to the touch. He never wanted to let go. No wonder Eren wanted to hold her hand. He wondered briefly if Eren's hand was cool too. Cooler than Bertolt's probably. Bertolt was always overheated.
"I'm only looking out for you," he told her, as he had said before, and he squeezed her fingertips lightly in an attempt at camaraderie. "I just want you to know that. That... that I am your friend. And... I'll always be here for you, Annie." He added in her name in an attempt to really reach her. She just... she couldn't be compromised. He wouldn't be able to go on like that. He couldn't be the only enemy left for humanity to blame. He couldn't be alone. She had to stay focused.
Annie didn't blink. Her eyes moved as though she was reading his face. She was right at his eye level, as he sat in the chair and she stood. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Annie looked down at their joined hands, and she turned her wrist slowly so that her palm was flush with his, like she was shaking his hand. "I'm so lucky," she said sardonically, looking back up into his eyes, "to have someone so big and strong like you to look after tiny, helpless me."
"I didn't... I don't mean it like that," Bertolt murmured, shaking his head as heat prickled at his face and ears.
"Don't go back on your word," Annie said, the insincerity practically radiating off of her. Bertolt pulled his hand back, attempting to withdraw the contact, but Annie brought her other hand to rest on his knuckles, trapping his hand between her two small palms. "I need your protection. There are so many monsters in this big, bad world."
"I... I..."
"That's why I need you," she continued, patting his big hand. "So many big, terrible monsters in the world. It's a good thing that I have the biggest and most terrible monster of them all to defend me." She half-smiled at him, but only her lips moved; her eyes remained two hardened shards of ice. It was almost like he could feel that ice in the pit of his stomach, flourishing and making him shiver inside, making his sweat feel cold.
"I don't... I don't mean that you're... incapable of defending yourself," he hurried to add, looking at her two hands containing his. His throat hurt. Swallowing was difficult. "I... I never said that."
"Right," she said. "But like you said... that's not really relevant. For us."
Annie released his hand and turned away from him, and she wiped her palms on the sides of her pants. She left without a word of goodbye, and he watched her silhouette disappear in the entrance way, into the night. He wanted to call for her to come back, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Even if there was no one else in the room, he was not sure that he would have had the courage. Bertolt put his palm to his chest, using his untouched hand to cradle the one that she had held. The coolness from her contact was fading quickly. He stared at the doorway that she had disappeared in, as if it would give him some kind of clue as to where she had gone. Maybe he ought to follow her. He didn't want her to be angry at him or anything. She was all he had... she and Reiner were all he really had... otherwise, he would be all alone again... How could he be compromising the mission by looking out for her? The very idea was ridiculous. How could you compromise your mission by thinking and wondering about your comrades? His focus was supposed to be on her and Reiner, in addition to training and their mission, since they were all in this together. He was supposed to look out for her... for them... even though... they certainly didn't seem to be looking out for him...
Bertolt was still all alone at the table for thirty. The biggest and most terrible monster of them all. The scourge of humanity. Listening to a folk song played by a local music group. Watching Reiner start wiggling himself over to Eren. He felt was a stab of jealousy... but over whom he couldn't pinpoint. This whole situation was overwhelming. He should leave, too. He stood up, and he kept his eyes on the spot where Annie had disappeared as he made his way through the crowded group to leave this celebratory gathering.
Alone. The feeling of his shirt sticking to his back.
Distracted. The bitter taste of alcohol still permeating his mouth.
Compromised.