Thirteen Years | P. Galliard

3

** This is a tad short, sorry. But please enjoy! 

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Present Day 

The sky was dark with small specks of light dancing within, and the moon hung in a slim crescent. The stars shone brightly against the black sky, illuminating them perfectly. Small grey clouds were scattered amongst the atmosphere, thinking to yourself it might rain in the next few days. You dawned a sweater and long pants to keep away the cold, but it still nipped at your face and your exposed ankles - the pants being hand-me-downs and ultimately too short. A thick blanket was draped over your shoulders and you pulled it closer to you as a light breeze blew by. Your walk was short, but your destination was still just as exposed to the elements. Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked quickly to the Galliard home, it becoming colder just by walking. 

A ladder was propped against the side of the house that made a way to the roof. You stopped in front of it before placing your hands to your mouth and blowing, warming them up to prevent from falling. You slowly made your way up the ladder, trying to prevent splinters from the old and damaged wood. Rung by rung, you climbed upward until you were able to peer onto the roof. The young man hadn't noticed your presence yet as he laid out on the roof, his hands under his head. A blanket was over him to keep out the cold, but he wore his uniform jacket for more warmth. 

You stepped up and over the edge of the roof, careful not to catch the ladder with your foot. His eyes glanced over to the figure pulling a blanket closer to them and saw whom he invited. He sat up and shivered at the cold, the blanket drifting off of him. Porco quickly pulled it closer to him, "you really had to chose one of the coldest nights to do this, didn't you?" He asked rhetorically as you sat next to him. He felt more at ease when alone with you, though he still struggled to find a good medium between his Warrior mind and Eldian one. 

A small chuckle passed your lips, "it just started getting colder a few weeks ago you big baby," you quipped. The gentle teasing made him smile, he truly missed hearing names come from your mouth. How you would tease him over every little thing, his slicked back hair, his attitude, his sharp tongue; he found it all endearing. The conversations you two once held, if overheard, would definitely make people's heads turn to see if a fight would occur. 

"You really shouldn't talk to people like that, Pock," you advised, trying to hide the grin forming on your features. You were following after the male who, moments ago, made a scene at a small stand in front of a shop. 

"You really shouldn't talk to people like that, Pock," he mocked before huffing, "shut up! That guy deserved it, he's an idiot!" He yelled. 

"Y'know, it takes one to know one," you spoke with a stifled laugh. 

The boy stopped in his tracks and turned around; however, you didn't stop soon enough and bumped into him. You took a step back before he groaned, "haha you're so funny (Y/n)!" He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes, "where'd you hear that joke from? Zeke? Because it's dumb, you wouldn't know humor if it hit you in the face!" 

You stood up a bit straighter at his words and eyed him with a small grin, "does that mean you would know if it hit you in the face?" You questioned, clenching your fist slightly, "because we can test that theory? I would love to hit you in the face." 

He didn't reply to your statement as he laid back down on the cold roof, wrapping his blanket around him once more. He kept his arm free to grab the soft blanket around you, tugging it hard enough to gently pull you down beside him. The feeling surprised you, a small "huh" escaping your lips to what was going on, but quickly realized what he was doing and followed. His touch was gentle but firm as he pulled you down, authoritative but not demanding. His hand pulled away once you settled next to him, now putting his arm back under his own blanket.

Your gaze shifted towards the night sky, while his lingered on you before doing the same. "How is everyone?" You asked softly, the night holding such a silence you almost thought to whisper.

"Fine," he replied. "Though I couldn't care less about Reiner's personal well being, Pieck and Zeke are doing well." It had been far longer since you had seen the other Warriors than Porco; all busy with their own missions and training. You couldn't help but wonder how the other three were doing. "They asked about you a month ago, actually, 'said it's been too long."

The smile you held was soft at his words as you kept your eyes towards the sky. "The last time I saw them was when they came back from Paradis. Zeke was so shook up when he came back, I'm glad he's feeling better now." Thinking of the island made you grimace, "I can't imagine what spooked him like that, I guess there are devils there, truly." The thoughts of the "island devils" were drilled into your mind since birth, although propaganda, you believed it was true. Nothing solidified that truth until Zeke, Pieck, and Reiner returned, without Annie, Bertholdt, and Porco's eldest brother Marcel in tow. It was overwhelming news to hear, and it terrified you. 

"I never want to face those island devils," he admitted. He felt another piece of his puzzle return back to him as he spoke, he didn't want nor need to hide things from you. You were Eldian, nothing more and nothing less, he felt secure enough in your presence to speak his mind. "At first, I wanted nothing more than to bring each and everyone one of them down. But Zeke's face when he came back. . ." His voice trailed off once he looked over to you, your eyes still fixated on the sky, "I'm scared." 

His confession of fear made you turn your head, locking eyes with his. Although, the young man was usually stoic, all emotion could be seen in his eyes. Porco had no way of hiding it either, the fear he held now was easily apparent. "Pock. . ." you spoke quietly, not knowing how to reply to his. You looked at him for a brief moment, scanning his features and holding a gaze with him that felt foreign. He looked at you differently now, something in his eyes, other than fear, sent a shockwave through you. Taking a deep breath, you turned your gaze, "I'm glad you couldn't go to Paradis five years ago." You admitted, and waited for him to interject but he didn't, "I know you wanted the Armor so badly-" you started and looked over at him again once more. "But I don't know what I would've done if you never came back." 

Your confession made his heart thump loudly in his chest, and he took a deep breath. Never had you told him this before, seven years had passed and you kept the thought to yourself. He couldn't figure out why you were telling him now, he supposed his own confession was the catalyst. "Porco," his breath hitched in his throat at his own name. It was a surprise to him to hear it, you always settled on nicknames, specifically "Pock," when addressing him. "If they ever send you to that god forsaken island, promise me you'll come back." The air around the two of you went silent from your request, only the crickets from the night could be heard. 

Porco couldn't help but stare, confused and baffled by the promise you wanted him to keep. Deep down, he knew he couldn't keep the promise; he knew it was impossible to say what would and wouldn't happen in the future. But he wanted to. He wanted to tell you he would be alright, he would live, he would overcome anything the islanders threw at him - he believed that was a lie. He was confident in his Titan abilities, even through training, but the young man knew better. No one truly wished to die in war but fate was dangerous. 

His hand moved from underneath his blanket, the cold air hitting him for a moment. With a small shiver, he hesitantly took your hand in his own. Your hands were cold compared to his, yours being out while his stayed under his blanket. He didn't know what possessed him to hold your hand, possibly for comfort or his own secret desire. Thankfully, you welcomed it and gently squeezed his male's hand, your gaze still holding with his own. He didn't want to look away, nor did he want this moment to cease. The sickly feeling he usually felt around you disappeared, his confidence increased from the small squeeze to his hand. He felt normal, not a Warrior, not the Jaw Titan. He felt at home. "I promise."