[The permission is all it takes. Eren curls forward until his face is buried in his knees, his arms crossed stubbornly over them. He sobs. It's such a terribly young-sounding cry; he's only fifteen years old. And the longer he cries, the smaller he sounds.
[The emotion rapidly gives way to anger.]
That bitch! [His hands come up to curl in his hair now, tugging roughly in frustration. He's tempted to start beating at his own skull.]
Traitor. And we don't even know who. Their deaths meant nothing - they meant nothing!
[It’s such a terrible thing to watch, to hear. He’s just a kid. War spares no one, but his world’s seems especially cruel. Aubrey wants to reach out again, but when he startled the first time and they’re still sitting on a ledge…]
[His emotions shift before she can make up her mind. She watches his hands carefully; anger like this is never kind inside or out. If he draws blood at any point Aubrey will reach for them immediately—but for now, she simply listens.]
[Of course their deaths meant nothing. It’s hard to justify no matter what…]
It’s terrible.
[A thought to herself, compulsion giving it voice:] You shouldn’t have had to carry that…
[He really, objectively may be right, is the thing. At the same time…]
Does that help anyone, now? [There’s a frustration to it; it’s not for Eren, really.] What’s done is done. But…
[She reaches for his hands, to hold them firm; one in each of her own. It’s a self-reminder, too, to stay present. Talking about the long term can only sound demeaning when the wound’s fresh.] I know guilt. I know guilt—can you trust me on that?
[It's not that it sounds demeaning, really - maybe dismissive is a better word - but Aubrey takes Eren's hands before he can get angry again. It surprises him; it grounds him. He squeezes them both without thinking, hot tears still fresh in his eyes.
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[The emotion rapidly gives way to anger.]
That bitch! [His hands come up to curl in his hair now, tugging roughly in frustration. He's tempted to start beating at his own skull.]
Traitor. And we don't even know who. Their deaths meant nothing - they meant nothing!
🤝
[It’s such a terrible thing to watch, to hear. He’s just a kid. War spares no one, but his world’s seems especially cruel. Aubrey wants to reach out again, but when he startled the first time and they’re still sitting on a ledge…]
[His emotions shift before she can make up her mind. She watches his hands carefully; anger like this is never kind inside or out. If he draws blood at any point Aubrey will reach for them immediately—but for now, she simply listens.]
[Of course their deaths meant nothing. It’s hard to justify no matter what…]
It’s terrible.
[A thought to herself, compulsion giving it voice:] You shouldn’t have had to carry that…
no subject
It's no one's but mine to carry, Aubrey...
You don't know what I'm capable of. I could have saved them. I should have...
no subject
[He really, objectively may be right, is the thing. At the same time…]
Does that help anyone, now? [There’s a frustration to it; it’s not for Eren, really.] What’s done is done. But…
[She reaches for his hands, to hold them firm; one in each of her own. It’s a self-reminder, too, to stay present. Talking about the long term can only sound demeaning when the wound’s fresh.] I know guilt. I know guilt—can you trust me on that?
no subject
["Can you trust me on that?"]
Of course...