Passive Aggressive - L. Ackerman

Prologue

In case you haven't read the description:

"About as clean as a sewer rat."

"What's someone like her doing here?"

"There's no place for you here! Go back to Wall Maria where you belong."

Those were all insults carelessly tossed at her since the raw age of 3. The best Y/N can do is endure it. Every single thing about other people seem to piss the living hell out of her, and the titan invasion just made everything worse. Y/N is forced to join the Survey Corps to regain her once-peaceful life within the interior. But would it be so much of a stretch for her to discover something else? Perhaps someone to help her realise she's missing the greatest thing in her life? She's never accepted it, but she knows that she wants someone to love her. After all, if love is just a word, then why does its absence hurt so bad?

-

"It's cold..." I mumbled to myself as I felt cold raindrops splash on my face, sliding down my cheek and dripping onto the cold concrete carelessly. There wasn't much cover under these empty summer market stalls, but they were better than nothing.

I shivered in my cheap, thin inferior quality clothes. It's so cold, I thought, yet again.

"Hello?"

-

Co-written with @CrystalSkylights

-

"It's cold..." I mumbled to myself as I felt freezing raindrops splash on my face, sliding down my cheek and dripping onto the cold concrete carelessly. There wasn't much cover under these empty summer market stalls, but they were better than nothing.

I shivered in my cheap, thin inferior quality clothes. It's so cold, I thought, yet again.

"Hello?"

I jumped, looking up wide-eyed to an elderly woman staring down at me from outside the stall.

"What are you doing in there?" she inquired, bewildered.

What could I say? That I was homeless? I could see how much of her kindness was forced so as not to scare me off, but in her eyes, I could see. I was only an animal to her. A stray dog with nowhere to go.

It's not easy to hide things from me. Their eyes are a window into their soul, their mental state and their emotions. It's been like this ever since I was a child, forsaken and forgotten in the lightly drifting snow. I had to get by somehow. I had to know who to trust and in my case, that was no one.

All these wealthy people walk around without a care in the world, pretending I'm not there, as if I were just a pebble on the side of the road, small and insignificant.

In all my years alone, I learned that I was unloved. And in return for this unkindness, I gave back to the world a spiteful little girl, full to the brim with stinging insults and snappy comebacks.

I often wondered if... someone, anyone, had reached out their hand to me and cared for me... would I have turned out this way?

"As if that'll ever happen," I muttered to myself spitefully, glaring at my grimy hands.