Chapter Text
This work was inspired on a scene of Attack on titan: Chibi Theatre! -- Enjoy your reading!
Bertholdt walked down the hallway, today he was unaccompained of Reiner, that alone was getting the tall boy more and more nervous as he approached the mess hall, chatter and laughter filling his ears with noise, it was easy to tell he didn't quite like it. Pushing the door open, he made a beeline to the counter with meals, helping himself with a tray of food and tried to track down a place to seat. Although he normally managed to find a corner to settle and eat, today he had arrived quite late than usual, and most of the seats - if not all of them - were now taken, making him look like a fool for walking around idiotly. At this rate, the others are probably laughing at my face; no, they're most definely, he shrunk, mortified. His shoulders were tense, presented on a stiff stance, hands holding the edges of the tray tightly afraid that it'd slip, seeing the amount of sweat that had gathered under his palms, the boy sincerely just wanted to disappear out of thin air.
That was, until he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve, so faint he almost didn't feel at all. What's the use of responding anyway? They're probably going to mock me-
“Hey, down here!”
He looked down in disbelief, some part of his grief washing away as he took a moment to take in your smooth friendly features, not knowing what he was looking for himself; was it a snicker, a sneery giggle? Bertholdt wasn't quite sure, but no one had really approached him lately, leaving him uneasy at why would you do so.
“Hoover, isn't it? You can take my seat, I'm finished here.” Liar, he thought, briefly glancing at your abandoned bowl of porridge, only half finished, hell, that couldn't be considered finished not here, not anywhere. You seemed to pick on his actions, eyes diverting to where his had settled, releasing a chuckle shortly thereafter, “I've got stable duty to do anyways, don't worry about it!”
Before he could backpedal, you were already standing up, holding your own tray with a hand and gently pushing his back with the other- Subconciously, Bertholdt had really liked the feeling of your fingertips against his broad back, featherly pressing on him before retreating, he also noticed, they had left a tingling sensation behind.
Am I really this touch starved? A bitter taste sat on his tongue, dancing laps and making fun of his misery, self loathing persona.
“Heads up, you got your seat, and it's not like I pitied you- actually, sorry, I did. But don't take me badly, I'm just lending you a seat, no big deal on that, isn't it?” You reassured him, hands again settling on his frame. This time, on his upper arm, Bertholdt noticed that was because you couldn't reach his shoulder; well, not many could, that's okay. He hadn't responded to any of your politeness yet, making up his mind that he should this time. Turning to you, he nodded, flashing you a shaky smile, along with the lines of "Yes, thank you!"; Bertholdt knew he was a fool when all of the pression on his shoulders melted away once you grinned back at him, basking under the solarity of your actions, he really appreciated what you had done for him, even if it was a very small gesture as lending a seat, “Great! Then, see you around, Hoover!”
Bertholdt was surprised when you make move to leave so soon, looking like a puppy who's wanted to play more with their owner, though you had better things to do. Was it something I said? Actually, it might have been something I did not said. Oh no, did they even hear my thanks before, it may have been too low for them to catch- The boy was fuming, head filled with many different thoughts as he discomposedly ravaged his food. By the time he looked down, the meal had been gulped down to bits, all that remained was the bread crumbs on his hand, whose he immediately brushed off when noticed. The mess hall was now fairly quiet, a cadet or two talking by over finished meals like him, it was nearly curfew, Shadis would be patrolling the halls soon enough.
As Bertholdt occupied himself washing his dishes, his mind drifted away, thinking over who could you possibly be. He had seen you around before, sure, recalling easily the day he bumped into you reading a book with Armin in the library. You also seemed close of Annie, much to his surprise, seeing how she'd ask if you were okay after sparring, an atypical act on the part of his companion.
Just how pathetic I am for not asking your name, he sighed defeatedly, washing down the dirty foam and drying his hands.
While retreating to the boys dorm, he remembered what you had said before. Stable duty, I should check on them before going to bed, that was a good plan. Except that you had already left, so he decided to stand and think, as he caressed his own horse's muzzle. They can't have gone to bed so early, the night sky is looking pretty today- or this is only a excuse to convince myself I can still talk to them today. One thing was right, the skies were really pretty; today they weren't particularly pitch black, but a mix of dark blue that enhanced the stars sparkles, while a few clouds were scattered around, the moon was behind one of them, lighting the bundle of water with shine. He'd describe it as a poetic sight.
Sadly, Bertholdt didn't actually find you how he'd hoped, heading back to the dorms with a tiny frown. Though, tomorrow he would definely look for you.
Today's training schedule was sparring, running and finally, the 3DM geat. Bertholdt would be lying if he said he did have a plan to man up and talk to you. The problem is, Jean was your fighting partner today, and as if he was glued to you, the horse-faced teen didn't seem to leave your side. Bertholdt had to be honest, he did feel bits of jealousy raising to surface when ocasionally peeking at you from the corner of his eye, how did he get so attached to you in little to no time? The warrior had to find out.
So when the smallest opening rose, he was quick to grab onto it - For context, you excused yourself to the restroom for a brief moment, yet enough for Bertholdt to switch partners with Jean. Surprisingly, he had agreed without fuss, stating that "Training with Marco would be much interesting than (Y/n)"; leaving the taller boy sweating a hundred buckets while he waited for your return, leaning on his shoulder against a wall. Bertholdt occupied himself watching the others train, Eren had just gotten beat up by Annie, thanks to Reiner -- and meanwhile, Sasha and Connie were doing weird poses again-
“Oh Hoover! Is that you?”
A sudden voice came from his backside, startling the poor lanky boy, noodle limbs waving in the air. He half expected you to find amusement over his nervousness, yet rather the opposite happened, you quickly apologised for scaring him.
Before any awkward silence could settle in the air, you spoke up, “Where'd Jean spirit away to, anyway? He was supposed to train with me today.”
“Ah-- the thing is, I,” Bertholdt gulped, turning around fully to you, he couldn't back down now, “I asked to-- to switch partners with him, so I could speak to you.” He glanced down at his hand, not able to keep eye-contact with you for the time being, he'd end up making things awkward otherwise.
“Oh, okay then! I see no problem in that! Jean is pretty clingy, yeah.” He could feel the smile in your words, and suddenly, you jolted up in realization, making Bertholdt jolt aswell, “Sorry I keep scaring you but! I never gave you my name, didn't I? Geez, that's really stupid of my part!” You ruffled your own hair for a solid minute, making the tall boy sense that you were actually also nervous, “So, I'm (Y/n) (L/n), apologies for not introducing myself yesterday.”
He started fidgeting with his slimy hands, for once he had finally gathered up the courage to talk to you properly, “It's... quite alright, I'm sorry for-- changing partners without your notice, um,” He looked at you briefly, since there was no traces of disagreeance, Bertholdt allowed himself to turn slowly towards the training fields, motioning for you to follow him, and you did, “Well, h-how are you doing today?”
“It's okay, I'm okay, still stuck with stable duty, until the end of the month, I acidentally got mud inside Captain Levi's office, and--” You noticed the sweaty boy eyeing you like you were some kind of miracle, eyes the size of plates.
“H-- How are you still alive?!” He said, not able to hold back a snort.
“Don't you believe in me?! For real! He was like-- flabbergasted, paralyzed in utter shock when I entered carrying reports, eyes drifting instantly to my muddied boots carrying a dozen of shit. I though he was going to impale me with only his looks, Captain Levi straight up looked like he was struck by lightning-” You paused, Bertholdt looked like he was having the time of his life, clutching his stomach desperately as laughter flowed out of his mouth, falling down in one knee.
Pride bubbled on your chest as you watched the shy, nervous background boy giggle happily in front of you, earning a few glances and whispers from other cadets. Just now you noticed, how hadn't Shadis scolded the two of you yet.
As much as you felt bad for stopping him, you actually needed to, before the rageous instructor-in-command kicked you both in a pile of horse shit, “Hoover, hey Hoover!” He jolted at your poke on his cheek, eyeing you right on the eye, he probably was too surprised to notice, “Sorry to pop your mood, but we gotta train, unless we want Shadis popping our kneecaps instead.”
He chuckled, getting up at full height again, “I'm sorry-- by the way, you can, uhm, call me Bertholdt, (L/n)!” Something about his request made butterflies churn around your stomach, so much you had to part your gaze away from his to mask the rosy blush that covered your cheeks.
“Okay then, but you gotta call me by my first name aswell!”