Deluge of Desolation | l. ackerman

Amid a Bitter Tempest

(chapter twelve)

The warm days of summer seemed to pass with a gust of wind. One day I was out in the training fields, beads of sweat dripping down my face as the hundred and ten degree weather burned the back of my neck, and the next I was huddled up next to Milo in the freezing snow of winter, shoveling horse shit by command of Captain Levi.

It was nearly December now, and I have since apologized to my good friend Milo for how I acted on the field that one expedition where a few comrades and I found those two Marleyan books, five months back. He accepted my apology instantaneously, which came to a surprise as I thought he was the most affected by it. I don't truly know why I believed that, maybe it was because of the way he avoided me like I was the bubonic plague, but thinking back on it, he used to act like that even before the incident.

Ever since I had talked to him and Felix, and even Gerard over that cup of tea we shared once we returned to the walls, I realized that the bond between our team was stronger than ever. I openly trusted them, just as they trusted me. I no longer hole myself on my bunk of the girls' barracks when I'm not training, rather I spend my time joking with Felix, messing with Milo and pissing off Kemmerich with Gerard.

Levi and I often share the dining hall after hours in silence, reading or filing paperwork — the latter being his usual activity. Very rarely would we converse, and when we did, it was very nice and refreshing, but I never minded when we didn't, either. I wasn't one to talk much, I left that up to Felix and Milo, and neither was Levi. His presence is sincerely calming...off hours, of course.

My old friend, Hange, was always dragging me along with her to conduct some crazy experiment or to study old relics we'd find in the middle of nowhere by some slim chance of luck. It honestly baffles me at how many trinkets we find in the open fields of Wall Rose.

I have spoken to Commander Erwin Smith quite a lot, as well. The man, true to his persona, is very intellectual. The conversations I hold with him are full of back and forth debates, all friendly, of course, and a lot of bouncing of ideas. Recently, he has been inviting me to the meetings he holds with the captains and lieutenants, in which he goes over the upcoming expeditions, positions and purposes.

When he first called me into his office, I sauntered in, thinking it was only going to be the two of us to discuss something other than militaristic matters, but I was sorely mistaken. When I opened the door, with my utmost confidence, I was stunned to see six new faces upon my beloved captains and section commander. It wasn't even that embarrassing, because, thank God, I had kept my loud mouth shut as I entered. It could have been a lot worse. I suppose it was the idea of first impressions in a professional setting that keeps me up at night. Either way, I often wish I could hop back in time and change how I walked into that damn office.

No changing the past, I remind myself, giggling at my stupidity and shuffling closer to Milo for warmth.

Currently, Milo was bent over the walls of Kemmerich's horses' trough, thoroughly scrubbing the wooden rims as I watched him grunt every time he had to reach to the very bottom. Levi is very strict on his cleaning regimens and he is even more strict on his cleaning punishments, so we always try our damndest to clean to his standards the first time over, for our sake.

    "The fuck are you giggling at, Moron?" Milo asked in annoyance.

    "Just how stupid you look," My lips pull into a joyful smile as I pull my arms tighter around my body and lean my hip against his. Milo looks up at me from the trough and glares.

    "Get to work, you hag! There's no way I'll finish this all by myself before nightfall."

    "Stop your whining," I say with a lazy wave of my hand.