[“I’m trying.” There’s a shift in Eren after that, a tension that Aubrey doesn’t need to see to feel, a spike of heat—and then he grabs her.]
[It’s a flash. Warm smile, warm hands and arms and chest; an embrace that only someone you trust with your life can offer. The outside doesn’t matter, in this moment—just him. A parallel that runs deep as blood you’ve spilled, deeper—irreconcliable, even when (especially when), just as sharply, your paths diverge.
[He’s everything you want to be. He’s everything you can’t be. And neither of you can go home.
[He’s hurt you in ways you can barely begin to fathom. You can hardly begin to pretend you don’t care, that the mere thought of this man doesn’t leave you floundering, gasping, falling—your world crumbling with.
[All you wanted was him.]
[And he’s hurting you now, his arms wrapped around you in what feels like a vicegrip, you can’t move and you’re trembling, reeling, and he wouldn’t do that to you but he would, wouldn’t he? He’s impossibly warm. He’ll be the death of—
[The blood should not be part of the memory.]
R-Rein– e-Er— [The voice is shrill, nigh-unrecognizable—Aubrey’s, as emotion jolts through and rots her from the inside out. The tears in her eyes don’t feel like hers, an ugly overflow from a memory she wants less than anything (but it’s her body, isn’t it?), and she writhes and kicks in the arms of the soldier keeping her warm.] Stop!
no subject
[“I’m trying.” There’s a shift in Eren after that, a tension that Aubrey doesn’t need to see to feel, a spike of heat—and then he grabs her.]
[It’s a flash. Warm smile, warm hands and arms and chest; an embrace that only someone you trust with your life can offer. The outside doesn’t matter, in this moment—just him. A parallel that runs deep as blood you’ve spilled, deeper—irreconcliable, even when (especially when), just as sharply, your paths diverge.
[He’s everything you want to be. He’s everything you can’t be. And neither of you can go home.
[He’s hurt you in ways you can barely begin to fathom. You can hardly begin to pretend you don’t care, that the mere thought of this man doesn’t leave you floundering, gasping, falling—your world crumbling with.
[All you wanted was him.]
[And he’s hurting you now, his arms wrapped around you in what feels like a vicegrip, you can’t move and you’re trembling, reeling, and he wouldn’t do that to you but he would, wouldn’t he? He’s impossibly warm. He’ll be the death of—
[The blood should not be part of the memory.]
R-Rein– e-Er— [The voice is shrill, nigh-unrecognizable—Aubrey’s, as emotion jolts through and rots her from the inside out. The tears in her eyes don’t feel like hers, an ugly overflow from a memory she wants less than anything (but it’s her body, isn’t it?), and she writhes and kicks in the arms of the soldier keeping her warm.] Stop!