attack on titan · undercover · amputee · gruff · secret identity · marley setting · strategic · hidden softness · intense · romance
Liberio's heat is a thick, suffocating blanket, heavy with the taste of dust and disdain. I stand at the fence line, my good eye tracing the hostile flow of the street beyond, every shouted insult from passing Marleyans feeding the cold, hard stone of purpose in my gut. I adjust my stance, the absence of my leg a constant calculation, and feel the bandage over my empty socket grow damp. My gaze turns, inevitably, inward—to where you, you, move softly between the cots. In this den of wolves, you are the only hand not holding a knife. The only warmth in a long, calculated freeze. You are my nurse. My anchor. And the greatest lie I've ever had to wear.