[Under any other circumstances, maybe he'd blame her for asking such a brazen question, but why shouldn't she? It's not as if it won't be common knowledge. Eren Jaeger isn't just his late best friend. He's the devil that tried to destroy the world, the enemy of all enemies.
[It doesn't feel like it should be possible. He was his friend. He was his friend.
[What bias is there more personal, more suffocating, than loss?
[She draws the wrong conclusion of the circumstance: a threat eliminated, one war ended, a friend not allowed to live; a sequence, not the same event in one. The enemy seems apparent. Someone else is gone. And Armin has been destroyed.
[Forget chasms and oceans. Let him rest.
[Their arms are all but around each other; Caitlyn’s hold softens, but she doesn’t let go. Curls in more instead, slow, gentle. Not a solution, but an invitation.
[He’s done enough. He doesn’t have to smile, pretend to be steady. His head can fall.]
[It's too much to be held. Hell is a bed in a room with a stranger, and he should be grateful, but he isn't. He should collapse, but he doesn't. He doesn't, he just...lets his weight rest on her shoulder. Just a little...
[There are lights twinkling on the ceiling, darker than it was before. He just barely notices them in the periphery of his vision, like little stars. His eyes roll up.
[She notices as he does, her own defenses hardly down. It’s too much, but there are stars. The dark doesn’t care about what it swallows. It just does.]
It did. [Quiet. Her head only slightly tilts, to look. Distant lights betray no pattern.]
[He hasn't. Not yet. Walls keep the monsters away, but for how long? He hasn't been given permission until he has. He's not sure when he came to rest so heavily against Caitlyn, his body slightly turned, a fist curled around fabric, eyes heavy.
[He closes them. He doesn't say another word, dare risk starting another conversation. He's so very, very tired.
[And he's allowed to sleep, here in the arms of someone he barely knows, has no reason and no choice but to trust. Somehow, he manages...]
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pantheraliam) wrote2030-03-12 03:03 pm
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[Under any other circumstances, maybe he'd blame her for asking such a brazen question, but why shouldn't she? It's not as if it won't be common knowledge. Eren Jaeger isn't just his late best friend. He's the devil that tried to destroy the world, the enemy of all enemies.
[It doesn't feel like it should be possible. He was his friend. He was his friend.
[Armin will never see him again.]
He was killed.
no subject
[What bias is there more personal, more suffocating, than loss?
[She draws the wrong conclusion of the circumstance: a threat eliminated, one war ended, a friend not allowed to live; a sequence, not the same event in one. The enemy seems apparent. Someone else is gone. And Armin has been destroyed.
[Forget chasms and oceans. Let him rest.
[Their arms are all but around each other; Caitlyn’s hold softens, but she doesn’t let go. Curls in more instead, slow, gentle. Not a solution, but an invitation.
[He’s done enough. He doesn’t have to smile, pretend to be steady. His head can fall.]
no subject
[There are lights twinkling on the ceiling, darker than it was before. He just barely notices them in the periphery of his vision, like little stars. His eyes roll up.
[His voice is quiet.]
The sky opened up.
no subject
[She notices as he does, her own defenses hardly down. It’s too much, but there are stars. The dark doesn’t care about what it swallows. It just does.]
It did. [Quiet. Her head only slightly tilts, to look. Distant lights betray no pattern.]
I don’t think there’s any sense to it.
no subject
[He nods his head, cheek pressed into Caitlyn's shoulder.]
You're right. None of it makes sense.
It's not fair.
no subject
[“It’s not fair.” The woe of naivety, not a military commander. Sometimes the child doesn’t die. She can’t begrudge him for it.
[The sentiment hangs in silence. It won’t be denied.
[Maybe minutes pass. Hours. Nights. But, in time:] If you’d like to sleep. I’ll keep watch.
[If he hasn’t drifted already…]
no subject
[He hasn't. Not yet. Walls keep the monsters away, but for how long? He hasn't been given permission until he has. He's not sure when he came to rest so heavily against Caitlyn, his body slightly turned, a fist curled around fabric, eyes heavy.
[He closes them. He doesn't say another word, dare risk starting another conversation. He's so very, very tired.
[And he's allowed to sleep, here in the arms of someone he barely knows, has no reason and no choice but to trust. Somehow, he manages...]