thirteen things | e. jaeger

9. Stay Up All Night

a/n: I posted on ao3 yesterday but not here lmao whoops 😰 also yes I changed up parts of how the festival play out and also made it so that the Warriors are a little more prepared. why??? because plot and also I Love Drama

"You're getting soft. More than usual. Even Falco could beat you at this rate," Colt said with a snicker as he caught you in a headlock. You whined and struggled before tapping his hand in surrender. He let go of you and crossed his arms. Despite his claims that you posed no challenge to him, his grey t-shirt stuck to his chest with sweat, and his face was slightly red.

"Pieck's been building up my endurance, not my hand-to-hand combat skills. Sorry I'm a little lacking. And really, Falco? Maybe Gabi could, but I doubt it," you said, taking your hair out of its ponytail and shaking it out. Colt gave you a look, and you pouted.

"Okay, fine, I get it! I suck at combat! Stop giving me that face, at least I'm still a faster runner than you," you said.

"What if, when I'm the Beast, I get like a cheetah or something? Then I'll be faster and better at combat than you," Colt said. Your jaw dropped. You had never thought of such a thing. What would make you special then?

"I have...better aim than you?" you said. It was true that you were incredibly good with a rifle – you had to be, considering you hardly ever went out into the field. Commander Magath had learned quickly that putting you with the other soldiers was disastrous. You had had several close calls, and would probably have had more if it weren't for Colt and the other soldiers watching out for you. Because of this, you had been trained as a sniper instead, and had excelled at that.

"Only because Commander Magath got tired of soldiers sacrificing themselves for you and took you off of the field," Colt said, rolling his eyes. You winced at the thought of the many brave young men that had perished in the line of duty, taking the bullets for you when you got into a tough spot.

"I never asked them to do any of that, it's only because I'm a Warrior candidate. My value is inherently more than theirs, at least according to the Marleyan government," you said, taking a swig of water and then tossing the bottle to Colt. He drank some before pouring the rest over his head, soaking his hair and shirt. You glared at him.

"What if I was still thirsty?" you said.

"Tough luck. Come on, let's spar one more time," he said, crouching slightly and raising his fists.

"Colt, you'll just beat me again. What's the point?" you said. He looked disappointed, dropping his stance and walking over to place his hands on your shoulders.

"So you're giving up, just like that? The point is that you have to keep getting back up and trying again. It doesn't matter who your opponent is – you cannot roll over and take what they give you," he said. You grumbled but got into a stance.

"So preachy, Grice. Fine, let's get this over with," you said.

The fight was over within a minute, Colt pinning you to the ground, though not before you got a few punches in. He was going to need to ice his jaw later if he didn't want it to leave a mark.

"You can get off of me now," you said, laying on your back as he held your wrists securely in place, straddling your waist to ensure you wouldn't be able to continue to fight.

"Nah, I'm scared you'll jump me as soon as I get up. Let's just chill here for a bit," he said. You closed your eyes and groaned in defeat.

"How long is a bit?" you said. Colt snickered, proud of his victory.

"Who knows? How's your life going nowadays?" he said, voice nonchalant.

"Awful."

"And why would that be?"