CHAPTER TWO

It had been that way for the past few months.

What she said to be only a 'couple' of letters quickly turned into a dozen in the span of just 6 months, two handwritten letters in each.

It did not help that we were entering our 3rd year now. We would eventually find ourselves forced to make a decision on what regiment we ought to join.

We were getting really busy and I couldn't sneak off to drop by my sister's place as often as before. By my 8th letter, she advised me to just send it directly to Erwin without the need of her proofreading it.

She assured me that whatever she had to say doesn't really make a difference because it was my words on the paper and she relied on me enough to know what gave her a higher chance of scoring.

It still made me feel guilty, time did not help to lift the shame I felt whenever Erwin was in my company.

He didn't know his closest friend was taking advantage of their proximity for the sake of giving his sister a higher chance.

Erwin did not know that the woman of his dreams who wrote him love letters with words accurately hitting him like star-crossed lovers was written by his own best friend— and with the knowledge of nearly 3 years worth of friendship.

I practically knew him like the back of my hand. I knew the things he liked, what topics interested him, what made him smile in a cloudy afternoon.

I used all that knowledge to make it seem like Marie was the woman destined for him. Someone who he could say was his 'soulmate' for sharing most similarities and knowing him despite not really knowing him at all.

I can't say I didn't feel like a horrible person every time I see him smile softly at the paper as he tucked himself into a corner not-so discreetly. While I felt absolutely terrible, at the same time, I was moved.

The feeling of tightness in my lungs clashed against the butterflies that threatened to habituate my stomach.

Because even if he was picturing Marie and her voice, those had been my words. My feelings written on the piece of paper he held so dearly. And it made me wonder if I had only been born a woman, would he have taken me more seriously if I were to say those with him knowing it came from me?

I shook my head.

Of course, I never dreamt of becoming a woman. I was much satisfied with my own identity now, and I know I wouldn't have been able to change anything even if my biological characteristics were different.

But I still wondered if it would have been a lot more easier to love me if the idea of loving another man wasn't as taboo.

I shifted in my seat as I watched Erwin's back. He was seated on our dorm's shared study table. He always hogged them most nights, writing his thoughts with a careful stroke of his hand.

Sometimes, I'd catch him smiling midway before Nile speaks up about something. And then I would see his head bow down in what I assume to be guilt in the reminder of his friend's existence, feeling perhaps just as terrible as I did— except, he only felt that way because he was sending Marie not-so-platonic letters despite being fully aware that Nile loved her.

I became brave one evening, surged and motivated by a newfound confidence influenced by a swig of vodka I was offered earlier from a fellow cadet.

I sat up on my bed, which was at the lower half of the bunk bed and near the study table.

It was late at night (maybe even midnight) and Nile was long taken by the realm of dreams, his snoring being enough proof of his abduction.

"Aren't you gonna sleep?" I carefully asked, rubbing my eyes lightly to adjust to the brightness of his candle light.

He seems to have been fully aware of my presence long before I sat up as he didn't seem startled to hear me speak.

He shook his head, "I'm just going to finish this." He informed, hand skillfully writing.

And I wondered if his thoughts flowed to him as easily at the thought of Marie. If he had been preparing an entire day with random splurges of words to say to her, or if they had all crashed down to anchor him all at once at night.

I wondered if his thoughts were organized long before he pulled his quill, or if he simply let the moment speak for itself without a thoughtful script.

I let my feet dangle on the edge of my bed, swinging them in a gentle movement all while I thought of him like he wasn't there before me.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, I saw Erwin finally put down his quill and lay his hand to a rest against the wooden surface.

"Hey, M/n." He started, making me lift my head ever-so slightly from the floorboards. "Have you ever thought about what you wanted to do after this?"

I arched a brow before responding, "Well, for starters— I would be choosing a regiment."

"You're proceeding?"

"Yes," I nodded as if it was the most obvious decision I could make. "I didn't spend 3 years in training only to become a street vendor. Although my sister does want me to start a pub with her."

He chuckled heartily, amusement bubbling from his throat in the most seamless way.

"I see. What regiment are you interested in?" Erwin has now turned against his chair by then, speaking directly to me in a more personal manner.

I allowed myself to drink in the sight of him. His neatly slicked blonde hair now loosened after the long tedious day, his ironed casual clothes that indicated much about his personality, and his eyes that seems to be brighter than any jewelry to me.

I swallowed thickly before forcing myself to not stray from topic.

"I was thinking about a change of scenery." I responded meaningfully, "I was thinking about a more vast land, one that is not limited by tall perturbing walls."

I thought about how I simply didn't want to be confined here. Within these walls. Helpless and forever sick of civilization.

"I want to be away. Somewhere new, somewhere death is not the extent of fear. I want to be able to handle something bigger than I believe I am capable of. I want change." I admitted with a twinge of shame.

His eyes softened, gazing at me as though he understood. Silently so.

I did not speak directly as to what regiment I wanted to join but the implication heavily hung in the air. The look in his eyes assured me that he knew exactly what I wanted.

"Does your sister know?" He asked after a few seconds of silence.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head slowly, "She has not an idea." I drew out an elongated sigh, "I don't know how she'll react. Most likely not very. . . Happy." I admitted.

I thought about Marie and how for the entire part of our lives, we have always been together. From children who roamed the streets of Wall Rose up to now: barely adults with the pressure of making a living.

Erwin simply took it in, getting lost in his own thoughts before eventually reaching unexpectedly, placing his hand on top of my knee, prompting me to meet his eyes.

To say I was taken aback would be the understatement of the century.

"Don't let anyone affect your decisions, it's you who'll have to live with it anyway." He wisely advised with a thoughtful look in his eyes. His words provided me a sense of comfort, an almost unfamiliar pump of confidence.

I swallowed once more before nodding, tearing my eyes away from his face— afraid I had gone a warm shade deeper. Letting him see directly into me made me feel more bare in front of him, as though he could see right through me.

I didn't want that. Then he'll truly see me as something despicable.

I cleared my throat, moving to shrug off his hand as I pushed myself back to my bed.

"Thanks," I still said out of courtesy, especially when his words meant a lot to me more than anyone else's. "I think I'll retire for the night, my head's pounding." I excused lamely.

Still, his brows pulled slightly as though in concern.

"Why? Do you have a cold?"

"No, I just had a swig of vodka. Nothing much, just need to sleep it off." I reasoned, reaching for the sheet that provided me comfort from the cold wind.

Okay, maybe just more than just a few swigs. I realized as soon as my head hit the pillow.

"Vodka?" He frowned slightly, can't blame him. Vodka was strong and rare, especially within camp too— I, too, would be shocked if I heard Nile got ahold of it. "From where?"

"The guys from the other dorm, y'know?" I played it off with a chuckle before quickly turning my back against him to face the wall, trying to ignore how my cheeks felt so swollen from the heat that overtook it. "Goodnight, Erwin." I still uttered out, to not seem so rude for leaving the conversation so promptly.

I could hear the movement of a chair, its wooden legs scraping the brittle floorboards— indicating how he had, by then, turned his chair back to face the study table. Resuming on writing a love letter for my older sister.

I winced.

My older sister.

It was wrong for me to feel this way, I knew it without a doubt.

I should peel off from my attachment while it's still early. I don't want to become a problem once they actually do get together. Can you imagine how absolutely humiliating that would be? Crushing on your brother-in-law?

I almost gagged at the term.

If they do get together, then that would mean Erwin would be my brother by law. That made me sick and made my stomach twist, the burn of vodka along with my dinner threatening to escape my throat.

I shut my eyes close and attempted to get some sleep, which proved to be even more difficult. Even with alcohol pulsing through my veins.

The entire night, the sound of Erwin's quill scraping the parchment kept me awake. Haunting me in some form.

It brought me further discomfort to be perfectly aware that the letter was dedicated to Marie, starting with three words that made me sick to my stomach.

My dearest Marie.