He had lost his purpose, not a soldier, not a warrior. Reiner had to live with the weight of what he had done, and even when he tried to fix it, it wasn’t enough. The Rumbling had happened anyway, and he had to grieve the very people he had promised himself not to get attached to.

He was a shell of who he used to be, with no loyalty, no orders to follow. He was expected to piece himself back together, like a pile of puzzle pieces with no pattern on them, so he kept busy as to not be left alone with his thoughts. He helped with the reconstruction of Liberio, and that’s how he met you, a volunteer at one of the relief kitchens that had been established.

You were quiet, kind, and you reminded him that if he wanted to start over, he had to begin with the simple things in life. He started to volunteer with you. It was subtle, at first, he started to stop at the farmer’s market every morning to grab the ingredients, and he would save the best peach for you. You said he didn’t have to, he insisted.

You would notice the cracks in the mask he would put on every day, how his smile never quite reached his eyes when he would serve people their rations. Of course, you heard of his story. You stopped complaining when he would bring you peaches, instead, you would always share half of it with him after your shift.

You would just sit on the wooden crates behind the tent, and talk, even if it was you who would have to carry the conversation most of the time. You never asked about his past, though, or his Titan. You knew better.

You had finished eating your halved peach, hopping off the crate to leave, but before you did, you suddenly pressed a kiss on Reiner’s cheek. “It was delicious,” you said. “As always.” He was dumbfounded at first, not expecting the kind gesture. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips. “Of course,” he murmured. “I always save the best one for you.”