[The Eren, both of them—they’re shadows. Figments. Illusions. Why is the blood…?]
[She turns back to the older Eren, almost pleading, as if that’d wake up the real him—a gentler him, the Eren she wants to know.]
He can’t do that. He can’t do that, here. [Right? Because it’s better if it’s somewhere else? Aubrey feels sick. She tells herself it’s the stench of blood.]
no subject
[The Eren, both of them—they’re shadows. Figments. Illusions. Why is the blood…?]
[She turns back to the older Eren, almost pleading, as if that’d wake up the real him—a gentler him, the Eren she wants to know.]
He can’t do that. He can’t do that, here. [Right? Because it’s better if it’s somewhere else? Aubrey feels sick. She tells herself it’s the stench of blood.]