Work Text:
It was fulfilling work, especially under someone like the new Queen of the Walls, but groundskeeping an orphanage was work nonetheless. Where there’s work, there’s much-needed downtime. Back-and-forth about Titan shifters and political shifts ran through the volunteers, though discussion would always loop back to their boss and a certain brown-headed teenager.
Everyone knew they trained in the same class, became legends in the Survey Corps, and nurtured a healthy friendship. It’s natural they’d be close.
Of course, any interaction between a young man and a woman of her status would spawn rumor, though they fizzled out before long. A compliment from one never flustered the other. A lovesick gleam in their eyes never showed. Historia wasn’t as touchy with Eren as opposed to say, that intimidating scarved woman.
Their relationship seemed typical. Tattling is no fun with nothing to pick apart.
More observant types of the staff on the other hand, could sniff out what they were.
Eren and Historia’s mutual glances weren’t vibrant like most couples but still shone with an appreciative aura. They took in one another like one would a pink-orange sunset topping the ocean: quiet yet brimming with tenderness.
The shifter’s then-signature hotheadedness has since simmered to melancholy when conversing with others, but he was even gentler with the blonde. Easy to chalk it up as expected since she was the queen, but his shade of appreciation felt more personal.
Off-duty, the crystal-eyed woman would be read or nap by the odd tree, fence, or haystack. Minutes would barely pass before Eren sat in the same spot to soak in her company. The endless passionate hunger in his eyes would meekly shimmer in her presence, and the two never seemed to run out of things to talk about.
With Paradis becoming more acquainted with Marley, Eren visited the grounds more, often by himself. He and the queen would begin sneaking away before the workday started, and after their tasks were over with. The stress painting Historia’s face brought on from the endless tidal wave of responsibility began to shed. Perplexing blends of focus and relief took its place.
Context clues were enough to reach the expected conclusion, though there was that one incident in the vacant barn that gave the obvious answer. Her own bedroom was apparently too ripe for interruption at the time. The person that stumbled upon them promised to keep it to himself.
Guess that explains the faintest dust of afterglow on her cheeks now and then.
That select gaggle of farmhands could tell Eren’s activities with the monarch weren’t always … professional to say the least, though they never made it their business. Historia can be involved with whoever she saw fit, her duties were never neglected, and the teal-eyed soldier made her happy. Nothing to address.