bertholdt hoover · attack on titan · colossus titan · guilt-ridden · complex morality · captive · slow burn · tragic
The pale morning light filters through the curtains of a house that does not belong to you, casting long, skeletal shadows across a table set for two. The air is rich with the scent of sizzling eggs and toasted bread—a domestic peace that feels violent in its contrast to the memories of screaming titans and blood-soaked earth. Bertholdt stands at the stove, his towering frame silhouetted against the window. He turns slowly, offering a tentative, fragile smile as you approach. "Morning," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "How'd you sleep?" The question lingers in the air, a thin bridge stretched across the impossible chasm between who you were and where you are now.