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[hatooooos]

The beginning paragraph of a currently untitled fan fiction about Hange Zoë

I had this idea a while ago, where I wanted to write a story about being a nurse in a war, caring for injured soldiers. One soldier in particular stands out to you and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. Maybe it was his unusually dainty appearance and delicate face? Or maybe, it’s that darn bandage he keeps wrapped around his chest at all times?

If you’re reading this and would like me to continue this, please let me know and i probably will!

♡—————-♡

There was something off about the way in which his brows furrowed when I wiped clean his wounds, the way in which his eyelashes fluttered open when I called out his name before changing his bandages, the way in which he seemed to have an unnecessary bandage restricting his chest. Often, I lie awake after hours envisioning his face, jaw slack in pain and fatigue, eyelashes hushed shut over his warm hazel eyes, swollen cracked lips parted ever so slightly, just enough to fit a straw. However something never sat right with that one out of place bandage. I saw no signs of injuries when I bathed his wounds, so why would he never let me take it off? He was so delicate; his waist was slimmer than most and his wrists were daintier. Never in my 2 years of working as a nurse had I ever seen someone so angelic. I see his sickly face in the stars each night with his name signatured underneath. “Hange.”

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I hope you liked it! If I do continue it I might end up changing it to second person

[hatooooos]

My heart. . .

(2/?)

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When I look up at you, through my lazily parted lids and fluttering lashes, does it make you weak? When you see the tears glisten in my tormented eyes, does it make you regret ever leaving me ? Perhaps, when I rest my hand here, gently and just above the knee, does it make you course with remorse? And, when you tie our breaths together; when you think I do not notice, you forget that I have studied you lovingly for centuries.

So, I notice how your thigh trembles under my touch, and how you stiffen ever so slightly as though you are afraid. Though, I know you are not afraid, not of me, and not of yourself. You have never been afraid of me as you know I will heed to your every command. Just as you are never afraid of yourself because you know that whatever you do, I will run back to you every time. It's excitement, isn’t it- the reason for your tremors? I can tell you find it hard to restrain yourself, know that you need not to, not after all these years. All these decades. Whatever you wish to do with me, I will welcome. When your fingers grace the nape of my neck ever so gently, I imagine it is all just a dream. The sensation is so light and ticklish it does not seem real. Nor does it when you lean in ever so slowly, eyes fixed on mine but hushed over just enough. Nor does it when your cool breath glides over my isolated lips. Only, when your cruel mouth meets mine, does it feel real. Only then and only then. ‘You taste bitter,’ I murmur after pulling away to inspect. ‘It's because I missed you so much, my love. I was nervous you had moved on without me, perhaps I would have returned to find you in the arms of another man. How could I have possibly known?’ with this, he tucks strands of my hair behind my ears with the fingers I've missed so much. As my face rests into his palm, a bubbling boils within me. ‘You know there is no one for me but you. Only you. No one else and only you. Why would you suggest otherwise? You are the one that abandoned me, in the middle of the night, leaving me to wake up cold and disorientated. I want you to explain your reasoning for that. I want to know why I had to suffer so much. Please do not lie to me, though you know I will listen to whatever you have to say, I need to hear the truth. You know I would never leave you, I cannot survive any longer without my heart, so please, I beg you. Please tell me the truth.’ ‘My love, my dear love, do you ever think I would abandon you without good reason? After all these centuries together, it is you and me, always. But, I cannot explain too much right now. It is dangerous but I couldn't stay away for any longer. I promise, when it has all settled down and everything is back to as it was, I will explain everything to you. I promise; and when have I ever broken a promise?’ I take a moment to ponder over this. No, he has never broken a promise. But, his promises are always so unpredictably cruel.

[hatooooos]

my heart. . .

(1/?)

‘Stand.’

His voice sends tremors through my legs and I find standing to be near impossible. Longingly, my eyes fixate on his matte leather shoes and my mind wanders. How do you always manage to make me fall victim to your gaze by breathing alone? I have waited decades for his return, I have ached for him in ways I never thought possible, I have longed for nothing more than to have him gaze upon my sullen face like he does.

My first love.

I let you consume me.

I sold myself to you.

Only for you to break me in return, but, given the chance, I would do it all again. I thought I dreamt with you by my side, surrounded by your warmth, perhaps my head rested on your chest with your strong arms holding me in place. More likely however, perhaps you had abandoned me during the night leaving only a letter for me to wake to.

‘I shall see you in a few decades my love,

a promise from me, to you’

That night I dreamt of a man, tall in height; hair ruby and free. He was running, hastily, as if being chased by the most fearsome monster of all time. The camera panned to the left from behind and I saw his glistening pale face, decorated delicately in light brown splotchy freckles, as handsome as ever. Just the night before I laid awake, connecting each small pool, softly with my finger, as if I'd cut the flesh if I even pressed with a gram of my strength. I was met with a smile as my eyes wandered all over the canvas that I had grown to know so well. I could tell you the location of each and every singular 237 freckles, the exact latitude and longitude of it’s position. I lived for the days his cheeks would dust themselves faintly with a pink shimmer whenever my words wandered too far into my emotions, he brought out the rawest, most disgustingly natural feelings inside me. Many times a night I despised him for it, perhaps, in truth, I simply despised myself for allowing myself to be submitted to the extent I so happily obliged to. There was not a thing about my being that he did not have etched into memory, every syllable of my words recorded in his library. I, too, had memorised his entire being. The way his feet left and tickled the ground as he strolled, the sound, the breeze from his movements. The feeling of his cool breath fanning across my face as he pressed small kisses against my skin. The exact sounds he makes in his sleep. The precise feeling of his fingers, how they always made me melt into his touch regardless of their placement. I had recorded everything to memory. My beautiful library, special only to him; useful only to me. As he ran, his mouth remained soft and poised, never parting for breath. His skin never stained with sweat, his clothes perfectly dry and orderly, just how he always liked it. I could tell instantly, by the sounds of his sprint, who I was watching. Even without looking upon his impeccably gorgeous face, I could tell his features even blind and deaf. One thing prayed on my mind however, what were you running from?

How far into my dream did I wander before you departed from our bed?

Did someone force you to separate from me?

We have spent the last 2 and a half centuries by each other's sides, why must you leave now, without saying goodbye, no less?

Was our love fabricated?

Had I imagined it all?

Surely that is impossible, why else would he leave this letter, if not to see me again?

Were you perhaps running from me?

Every day, since your sudden departure, I have written in my diary, logged every thought and feeling that trickled through my corpse- immortal yet rather dead.

Dear diary,

I awoke this morning to the most unimaginable sight and feeling. I woke, alone and shivering, with my head rested on the feather pillows, enveloped by the thick duvet, instead of it’s rightful place. Just yesterday I woke to see your peaceful expressionless face, my head resting blissfully on your chest with your arms wrapped around me, and now, that thought seems almost impossible to conjure. I cannot stop the tears that flood from my eyes; after these centuries with you I had almost forgotten what crying was. It feels so mundane, I am not used to it. The pages of my diary are getting ruined, I must stop this foolishness at once. But, how? How can I stop without your comfort and praise? You are the cause of my distress yet this sick joke never seems to be over. You have got me good, please come out now and quit this nonsense. You are still here, are you not? I need you like the earth needs the sun, without you I grow too cold and wither away. Like heaven needs hell, to keep the balance. Like the night needs the stars. Like the body needs the heart. You are my heart. How can I possibly live a life when mine is so far away from me? I can no longer feel the beating in my chest, the pulsing in my veins, the nerves under my flesh. My heart has been torn from me and ran away on it’s own two feet; how am I supposed to cope like this? A few decades you say? How many is that? Your message is so vague. At least, when you write a couple I know this means 2. But, what does a few mean? Does it mean more than 2 but less than 6? Or simply more than two, not half a dozen but also less than a dozen? Or does it simply mean, not many but more than one? 1 decade apart from my heart is 1 decade too long. Even 1 second apart is too long. I do not know how I will survive without you.

Dear diary,

It has been 4 months without my heart. The situation has not improved. I believe I have fallen into what humans call ‘depression’. I have not washed our sheet’s because I cannot bear the thought of your scent being gone. I have not left our bed for anything except to feed. I have let my feeding become messy and compromising, you would be ashamed. Perhaps I simply no longer care. Perhaps I care so much it is eating me up inside yet all I can do is... nothing. Will you come back to me soon? In the next decade perhaps? Or will you continue to torture me? I miss you, dearly.

Dear diary,

You have been gone for 3 decades yet my feelings have not quelled.

[hatooooos]

childhood crushes

hi :) this is my first ever post on here so I have no idea if anyone will even see this. this is just a short story thing based on a dream I had about my first ever girl crush, my childhood best friend. the word count is: 1037, so by small, I really do mean small. any shares, likes, etc would be greatly appreciated if you end up enjoying this! :)

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Love. As I reminisce over the previous years when you were in my life, it is all I feel. How stupid I was to let you go.

'Hey,' she whispers, softly, 'What's wrong?'. That voice, the way it relaxes every muscle and nerve in my body; the softness of it, it is something I'll never get tired of hearing. We often joke about how she sounds like soft whip ice cream, all smooth and delicate and sweet combined, my favourite kind. Directly outside of my window, a blossoming rose tree sits, fixed in the soil; our legs resemble the roots as we cuddle on my fresh, moon sheets. Her gentle hand reaches out to caress my cheek and I hold onto hers with mine. 'Nothing.' I say as I realise, I have been staring into her eyes. The way the sun makes them glisten and melt into honey encapsulates me. 'Yeah, well, you're doing an awful lot of staring,' a chuckle leaves her parted, rosy lips as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering slightly for her thumb to rub small, delicate circles on my cheek, 'do I have something on my face?'. Something on her face? If only she knew how beautiful she was. If only she saw what I saw.

Carefully, propping myself up, 'Huh, something on your face?' I mutter quietly, leaning in as if to kiss her cheek, only to lick it quickly. Her skin is smooth; as my tongue glides over I find that she tastes sweet, almost like strawberries. 'Yeah, now you do,' slowly raising my head, our eyes meet again, a small smirk tugs on my lips, as I see her face smoosh into a pout. 'Hey! Not cool missus.' Delicate, teasing hands reach out to tickle me. Her laugh... my favourite song; what I wouldn't do to hear it for the rest of my life. These are the moments I yearn for now that you are gone.

Imaging my life without you, the very thought brings a lump to my throat. what a dreary, dull life that would be.

Sun shines brightly through the opened curtains, the glass of the window heating it further as it grazes over our skin. A honey gold hue lingers in the room, adorning her pale skin in ways only described as celestial. My own personal deity. The arms I feel so safe in pull me into her embrace, wrapping around my neck. ‘It’s you and me, forever and ever, you know? I need you like the moon needs the stars, just like how you need me like the sky needs the sun.’

I know...

All my worries melt away as I bury my face in the crook of her neck, the smell of her perfume that I love so much creeping up my nostrils as I inhale slowly.

Aromas of vanilla and cinnamon fill the room, it is honeyed to the taste buds. Oh, how I love her perfume. The bed creaks faintly as I lower myself, resting on the crumpled sheets with an arm behind my head. My own personal deity, she glows as she runs her hands through her silky auburn locks, yawning slightly. A sight my eyes will never tire of. My heartbeat becomes a song as her head rests on my chest, the hem of my shirt entwining with her fingers. These are the moments I lived for, the pure bliss of her touch, how we can let down the walls and be completely vulnerable and content with each other.

Beep

Her voice rings out as a hum; it vibrates through me. I hum in return, hoping to dismiss whatever was calling me and slip back into the comfort she carries. My mind is far and swollen, filled completely with her. Only her. Her softness, her scent, her smile. Her everything. She was so unbelievably soft and weighted in everything she did and said, every touch that tickled over my flushed skin, every word and sound that ever left her throat. It pricked my skin, like little tiny needles, in the best way possible. Which is why, when she urged me to do something, I did it without question; it was always for my sake, to help me. Calmly, her fingers slither under my shirt to rub gentle swirls on the flesh of my stomach. Trailing the dips in my curves. Up to my shoulders, then back down to my waist. Unconsciously, I reminisce over the smoothness of her back, the slightly raised bumps of her spine and the poking bones of her shoulder blades. Her spine runs cold under my fingers when I first make contact. ‘Are you going to see what it was, or should i?’ her voice comes out as a whisper amongst some content hums. ‘It’s probably nothing- wanna stay like this,’ I hush, absentmindedly as my mind is elsewhere. Nothing is more important than this, being here with her. A harsh sting ripples through my brain as it comprehends that my skin has gone cold and weightless; my eyes shoot open. ‘It’s your reminder for your essay that is due in-’ before she can finish, my arms have snaked around her middle whilst my face buries itself in her lap. A warm chuckled gasp leaves her throat before she continues, ‘tomorrow. Don’t you need to finish this?’ words have escaped me in this tired state so I settle with a simple grunt indicating a ‘no, I would rather cuddle with you- ‘ts more important.’. Her gentle hands reach down to cup my face and bring it up to peer at her through my half lidded eyes. Fatigue almost drips out of them as they meet hers, so warm and loving. After absolutely no consideration, I mutter out a reply, ‘I'll do it, stay with me, will you?’ With a smile on the face I adore, she nods enthusiastically.

She was like the moon. Bright in a dim, non-overpowering way. Ethereal, compared to anything else. Surrounded by stars, because her presence is so blissful. And, like the moon, I grow green with envy every night, when I realise that I am not the only one in her life anymore.