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Cora's POV
The morning after the memorial service Cora found herself checking over her luggage once more, unable to find a shred of excitement within her despite the fact that she was finally setting off on a journey she'd been longing to embark on. Her wardrobe was emptied, her bed stripped, and her personal belongings being hiked away to the carriage that awaited her. Giving her room a final once over, she sighed and closed the door shut behind her.
However, another room just down the hall at the farthest end caught her eye. She hadn't dared step into Sawyer's room since his passing, not wanting to let a single person or a single bit of his essence out. No one had cleared out his room, she'd made sure of it, after all it's not like there would be anyone staying in it for quite some time. Excluding her, the Survey Corps had twenty-two members after both the expedition losses as well as the fall of Wall Maria. With trudging feet and a bit of reluctance, she made her way to the end of the hall, hand quivering as she reached for his doorknob.
She half-expected him to jump out and surprise her when she opened the door, or to wrap his arms around her from behind just to scare her as he used to. Instead, she opened his door and was met with a deafening silence and a painfully empty room. A layer of dust coated everything, his books, his clothes, his bedsheets, yet everything still felt like him. She ran her fingers along everything, not caring about the dirt and dust that had gathered, before rummaging through his wardrobe and pulling out some of her favorites from his collection. It was nothing but a few sweats, some shirts, and a jacket, but she was going to keep them.
She didn't care for books, however took his book on philosophy just so that she could read it and feel like she was talking to him. She hadn't noticed she'd begun to cry until she was forced to wipe off both the book cover as well as her face repeatedly, her tears leaving sticky streaks along her cheeks. His desk then caught her eye, sitting in the corner of his room beneath his window, almost beckoning her towards it.
'There's a letter in my desk that is addressed to you, in the case of my untimely demise. Read it when you're ready, okay?' She frowned at the memory, that specific memory being half of the reason she'd dared to set foot in his room in the first place. Her fingers shook as they wrapped around the drawer handle, before slowly sliding out the top drawer where indeed, a letter sat ready and waiting addressed to Cora Sallow herself.
She took the thin envelope, which smelled faintly of pine, and smiled. It still retained the scent of that stupid cologne he wore, even if it had been in this room for a month. Taking the envelope and tucking it within her jacket, as well as the small bottles of cologne she knew he had stocked up in his desk drawer, she briskly made her way out of the building without leaving a trace of herself behind.
"Got some keepsakes, I see?" Erwin asked her when he saw her approaching in the courtyard, a saddened look on his face. She hadn't been as close to Erwin as the other four, but she had grown to like him over some time. Although he could be a bit intimidating, and a bit obsessive over the outside world, he had his heart in the right place when it counted.
"Nothing but memories now," She answered with a sad smile in return, the first smile she'd shown in weeks. "Still, no matter how much stuff I pile in here... I don't think it'll ever be enough."
"I understand," She nodded before carefully sliding her added on luggage into her carriage, a slight frown tugging at her lips as she did so. "Cora, you don't have to do this-"
"I do, Erwin." He sighed, whatever argument he'd begun to form he knew would merely fall on deaf ears. Instead he reached a hand out for her, the least he could do being offering a firm handshake for her hard service. She shook his hand without hesitation, she had no qualms with this man as far as she was concerned.
"You are always welcome as a Scout, with open arms."
"Thank you."
"Take care of yourself."
"I will," She frowned slightly, before adding, "Take care of everyone else too. You're gonna be a fine commander." Erwin gave her a gentle smile before helping her into her carriage, watching with soft eyes as he sent her away. Cora couldn't help the twinge of sadness she felt as she watched the Headquarters slowly get further and further away, until she was surrounded by nothing but the trees that enclosed the large castle from the public.
She could not go back now.
Instead of crying over spilled milk, she slid one of Sawyer's old jackets on over her uniform, not caring for formalities, before dabbing a bit of his cologne on just to keep the scent fresh. If she closed her eyes, it almost felt like he was right there with her, about to make some snide remark about how foolish she was or how stupid she looked wrapped up in his clothes. However when she opened her eyes, he of course was not with her.
He never would be again.
A slight shifting of an envelope in her breast pocket reminded her of the letter he'd told her to read, and although she wasn't sure if she was ready to read it, she carefully opened the envelope with unsteady hands. His familiar loopy scrawl brought tears to her eyes, something so minuscule being something she'd come to miss so dearly. She blinked her tears away as quickly as possible, not wanting to cause the ink to run, and read the letter which reads as follows:
To my dearest, Cora,
I'm writing this to you in the event that my untimely demise comes about before you get yourself killed. How or why I'd manage to kick the bucket before your dumb ass does, I have no idea, and yet you can never be too sure so here we are.
She laughed.
I do not fear death, or so I wish to say, but rather I fear what comes after it. Death is one of the greatest mysteries of human kind, and many have attempted to explain it-- avoid it even. Yet death is inevitable. I do not fear the inevitability of my death, but rather, I fear the things I might not be able to do if I die too soon.
I fear not being able to wake up and bother you every morning. I fear not being able to wander about with you every night, talking about everything and nothing. I fear no longer being able to make you laugh, see your smile, watch you as you're in your element. I am not a coward, nor am I a 'punk bitch' as you like to call me, but I have many fears. Somehow, someway, they all seem to boil down to you. I fear for you, I fear my feelings for you, it's all the same.
However more than anything, I fear dying without you ever knowing how much I admire you. Since we were young, you've taught me many things (not academic-wise, don't give yourself that much credit), and I've learned a good deal from you. You, who were perhaps in a stage darker than I, somehow managed to find the light in every situation from the moment of our meeting. Someone to look up to, is who you are. Someone to adore (don't let that go to your head, either).
I will credit you with many things. A fine taste in brandy, sure. Excellent physical prowess, absolutely. But overall, I credit you with your one of a kind personality. You are a rarity, something unique that is to be cherished. You are, in a single word, beautiful, and even that isn't enough.
No that's not enough.
I could continue writing on and on, but part of me doubts you can even read words longer than one syllable. That's quite alright though, because all I want to tell you is a mere three words, each one syllable long. It may not be enough to express everything, but it's enough for you to comprehend all the same.
