erwin smith x male!reader
in which where marie's brother is forced to write letters for her lover in her stead but he finds a difficult time controlling his feelings-especially when her lover also happens to be the man he holds most affections...
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EPILOGUE: ERWIN'S POV
I could still vividly remember the day I first saw his face, ever-so picturesque as I remember.
The lovely hues of his eyes, the small curl on his lips, and the way he seemed to carry himself. I noticed him right away despite my inconvenient position of catching an awfully narrow angle to view him, just right above and past our superior's shoulder.
He looked like he was searching, yet at the same time, running for all his worth. It intrigued me, piqued my interest as to what person he could possibly be behind the demeanor.
I stared for too long and too intensely to the point I caught his attention. His head lightly turned and lovely hues met mine.
I swallowed thickly, heart pounding slightly to have been caught but felt far too gone to turn back now. I held his gaze, steadily and calmly as though my own chest didn't beat uncomfortably.
He stared back, in contemplation. Torn between smiling or scowling at me, which I couldn't figure which.
All I knew was that either way, I would be doomed.
Unfortunately for me, my line ended the moment his lips curled up to smile at me. A very brief one that anyone wouldn't have noticed unless they were staring as hard as I.
My tense muscles loosened up and I felt a significant weight float from my shoulders.
He had a sunny disposition, but not the typical niche cheery manner. He reminded me of the sun-not for the happy cliche that books have introduced, but for how he wounded me. His scornful, scorching heat that came in the delve of his eyes, threatening to burn me if I stared too long. Or his warmth that formed in his presence and how I felt relentlessly cold without.
That was how it became for the past few years we were trainees.
Finding excuses now and then to get ever closer. I was contented for a while, assured with the thought that no matter who he hung out with, he always seemed to gravitate back towards me like how I do him.
But my small infatuation grew beneath everyone's noses, even mine. It was so silent, so sensually gradual, that I didn't even notice it until I felt my hand itch every time he was so close but I couldn't reach out to him.
Most days, after hanging out and feeling our arms graze lightly in skin, my hand would flex in a poor attempt of controlling myself.
That was when I first knew I was a weak man against him.
The first time I realized I couldn't hide or shy away from my unnatural feelings forever was when I had met his sister in an ordinary night out in Wall Rose.
She was charming, yes. But in no way could she capture me with a single look just like how her little brother had done an honest man like me.
She was pretty, that I couldn't deny. How could I? She looked like M/n.
