[The last, clearest thing that Aubrey remembers is pouring her heart out to Mari and Armin, Eren’s gut-wrenching scream, and then—nothing. Nothing. Attempts to go back, to the restaurant to the store to the dark prison, to him—all futile. She would have rather been unconscious.
[What’s the goddamn point of a promise if the world won’t let her keep it?
[Why let her hear him if she can’t reach him?]
[When he kissed her again and again, impassioned and loveless and burning, Aubrey was certain, is still certain, that things might never get better than that. Maybe her silly little vow was just another attempt to delay the inevitable. Grief never cares if you’re ready for it; she should know this by now.
[It’s mourning, she thinks, that brings her back to the barracks. Aubrey senses she’s there even with her eyes closed; it was the last time she laid on anything so soft. Crueler still, it feels as though she’s not wrapped in blankets but Eren’s arms; that it’s really him breathing, steady, sleeping and shivering around her. His scent, his skin, his warmth.]
[…Can illusions be warm? Dare she get her hopes up? God, it doesn’t matter. Aubrey curls herself into she shape of Eren Jaeger, and as long as this world will indulge her, she won’t resist it.]
no subject
[It’s the prison. It’s the cage.]
[The last, clearest thing that Aubrey remembers is pouring her heart out to Mari and Armin, Eren’s gut-wrenching scream, and then—nothing. Nothing. Attempts to go back, to the restaurant to the store to the dark prison, to him—all futile. She would have rather been unconscious.
[What’s the goddamn point of a promise if the world won’t let her keep it?
[Why let her hear him if she can’t reach him?]
[When he kissed her again and again, impassioned and loveless and burning, Aubrey was certain, is still certain, that things might never get better than that. Maybe her silly little vow was just another attempt to delay the inevitable. Grief never cares if you’re ready for it; she should know this by now.
[It’s mourning, she thinks, that brings her back to the barracks. Aubrey senses she’s there even with her eyes closed; it was the last time she laid on anything so soft. Crueler still, it feels as though she’s not wrapped in blankets but Eren’s arms; that it’s really him breathing, steady, sleeping and shivering around her. His scent, his skin, his warmth.]
[…Can illusions be warm? Dare she get her hopes up? God, it doesn’t matter. Aubrey curls herself into she shape of Eren Jaeger, and as long as this world will indulge her, she won’t resist it.]