The Devil is Watching You

•13•

You sit in front of the fire, watching the flames flicker away. Historia is in the bedroom sleeping again and Armin has taken it upon himself to clean the place up before their Captain arrives. Apparently he's a neat freak.

"So do you have any idea who initiated the attack on my room?" You mutter as Armin dusts off the fireplace's banister.

"Not sure..." he sighs. "The military police are doing a thorough investigation, but the only thing they know for sure is that you were the target and not Historia."

"What a relief," you roll your eyes.

Yes you're glad no one was killed, but to you it doesn't matter if the Queen was targeted or not. It's your life on the line here.

"Things could turn out badly if people were trying to kill the Queen," Armin lifts up a framed picture and wipes a cloth over it to get rid of the dust. "We don't want a full on war with our own people. The whole island would be divided."

"Not really my problem," you shrug. "I'm just along for the ride here, I don't have an opinion on your islands business. I'd rather just get home and not have to ever come back here."

"Right..." Armin places the picture back down and walks off towards the kitchen to finish drying the dishes.

You decided to head into the bedroom and take your notebook and pencils from the beside table, careful not to wake Historia up in the process.

Once you successfully retrieve the items, you head into the study and sit on the couch, pulling your knees up to your body and resting the notebook on your thighs, beginning to draw.

At first you weren't sure what you were going to draw, but soon enough you were creating a portrait of Bertholdt in the scouts uniform he would've worn while here. You don't exactly know what he looked like since he had grown a lot over the years that he had been on the island, but you did your best.

An hour passes and you have the outline finished by the time Armin enters the room, announcing the captain and others had arrived.

"What do you have there?" His eyes flick down to the notebook.

"Just a drawing," you mumble tiredly and close the book. "Nothing special."

"Can I see?" He steps through the doorway, getting closer to you.

"Uh..." you start to decline, but you are interrupted by Jean coming into the room.

"So it's late, but is there any way we could cook up some food? I'm starving from the trip over here," he pats his stomach.

Armins attention turns back to you and he looks like he is contemplating something.

"Did you want to cook since you didn't the other night? You don't have too, but I think it would be nice to try your food," his lips turn up into a gentle smile.

"I guess," you nod. "Uh how many people am I feeding?"

"Let's see," Jean taps his finger to his chin as he thinks. "Probably around ten all together with the guards outside."

"Oh okay," you sigh, thinking about all the food you'll have to prepare.

"I'll help you," Armin gives you a little relief from the pressure of cooking on your own with his statement.

You stand and set your notebook down and follow the two down the hall and into the kitchen. Jean splits off and sits on the couch beside Connie, both of them have glasses of cider in front of them. Must've been the one Armin and you were planning on saving.