abandonhumanity | PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

[So it’s six feet under and counting.

[Fantastic.]

[They’re talking now. Is that better?]

I don’t know. Away from there.

[Her mental map of the area is, irritatingly, fairly wide. Being stuck here for years on end, not to mention those three-hour trips, tends to do that. Might run out of gas before they can actually get lost. Stupid.]

[She considers asking how long he’s planned this. If anything anyone did, this weekend or last or ever, could have changed it. The answers might make her throw up, so she doesn’t.]

[Let him suffocate in silence, for a while.]

[He doesn't quite suffocate. As with the last several hours, Eren's body can't decide whether its in fight mode, flight mode, or complete torpor. Spikes of panic light his chest up like a Molotov while waves of rage resharpen his focus; with these, deep pits of exhaustion that make it hard to keep his eyes open, bubbling nausea that makes him want to put his head between his knees. He feels high. He feels sick. He feels dead. He feels awake. He feels outside his body, floating above the lake, watching the car sink.]

[His head is pressed up against the cool glass of the passenger side window, eyes dully reflected back at him, watching nothing. His voice comes out distant, quiet...]

Take us to our spot...

I wanna go.

[That damn spot.]

[There’s a reason Aubrey’s resisted so feverishly. Her resolve wouldn’t have survived. But now…?

[Now…]

[The next turn is deliberate.]

[Sorry, Armin.]

[Before long, Eren should know the street.]

[Eren knows the street; fat oak trees and shabby brick houses, only every other streetlamp illuminated, flickering. He sits up straighter in his seat, turning to face out the window properly, even going so far as to press one hand to the glass.

[His breath hitches in his chest. He's been trying all weekend to get Aubrey to budge, but when he left her house last night, he was certain he'd never see their place again. He's meant to be dead right now.

[A thought, passing, but electric: It would be the perfect place to die together, if it ever came to that.

[Of course, it won't come to that. It can't come to that. Not for Aubrey. Maybe still for Eren. "Why should I have to die?" But he still doesn't see a future. As they turn onto the dirt road leading to their haven, he still feels as though he's about to see it for the last time.

[He couldn't die without seeing her one more time. Maybe that's what stopped him.]

[It’s amazing how well their thoughts line up sometimes. Talk about a spark…]

[A car can only get so close; there’s nothing but moonlight to illuminate their true path. But they know it by heart, light be damned. Further through the trees, stones over a stream, so far past the undergrowth even stray dogs give up the chase. Under that biggest tree, initials carved for eternity—the perfect place to hide a body or two.

[“Ugh, Eren, don’t joke about stuff like that! This is our spot, okay?” An insistent, tapping point at the heart their names are bound in. “The only people hiding here should be us.”]

[Ha. Haaahh…]

[Aubrey doesn’t move for a while, after turning the keys. She wants to go home. She wonders who will find their last stupid text exchanges, spats and hearts and all. What a mess.]

[A morbid curiosity, words for their own sake:]
How’d you do it.

[Eren presses his fingers against the cool wood of their tree, running them along the trunk until they find the divots of he and Aubrey's carved initials. A warmth floods through him that he hasn't felt in years. This is home. His childhood house has been demolished. The town itself feels cursed and half-real. But this spot - this spot, always this spot.

[He barely murmurs as he talks, but it's so quiet that it doesn't matter; it never has. They've spent countless hours whispering here.]

I stabbed him.

[His fingers trace back over the crude shapes.]

A lot. Lost count...

He died fast, but I didn't stop.

[Shouldn’t have asked.]

Do you… still have it…?

[She sounds ill.]

[Eren shakes his head.]

No.

I put it in the car with him.

You stupid bastard.

[Aubrey sits down. She rubs her face. Crosses her arms over it. There’s no waking up from this.]

He was in the car. You put the body, in the car, with the wea— You drove the car with his body in it.

[It’s funny. It’s almost funny. It is impossible to laugh.]

You really thought this through....

[Finally, something to his tone other than distance; it's impatience - a fine edge.]

I didn't plan on living this much longer than he did.

[There's a pause.]

I needed to see you again.

[Shame the finest edge they have is verbal.]

Okay, well. You got your fucking trophy.

[She should really be more careful right now. If his job truly is done, that’s a warning…]

Anything else…?

[All at once, he can't stand the thought of Aubrey being mad at him. It makes him feel frenzied, though he holds it in - he tries. His hand starts flexing, anxious. He's pacing.]

Don't-- Don't look at me like I'm a monster - I am not a monster. He was a fucking monster.

I’m not looking at you, dipshit. [But she does, increasingly, sound mad at him.]

I don’t care who the monster is. I just— I have only ever wanted you to live. [I want you to be mine. Not some cult’s poster child. Not the face on the morning news. Not his, not hers; mine. And despite it all, Aubrey would like to live.

[Yet she still can’t face him. She tells herself it’s because his voice, his steps, agitated, are cue enough.] Why is that so difficult?

Because I don't want that. [He's muttering again, even as he continues to pace. His hand flexes anxiously again, again, again.]

You know how I feel, Bow. Fuck.

Every day I wake up dead. Every day I wake up dead. I'm sick of it. This was supposed to be the end.

[But he needed to see her. He needed to see her.

[Slowly, the pacing stops.]

I always told myself I was living for this day, but it isn't true...

I lived for you, Bow. Even now, I had to see you...

I couldn't do it. I had to see you.

[It’s not new information. It hasn’t been for too long now. Talking doesn’t help, doesn’t change; same shit, different day. Tonight she learns it was supposed to be the end, and it lights up Aubrey’s brain enough to keep wanting to pull that stupid, swirling lever.]

[Tonight he puts it in words. She thinks she’s never hated him more.]

[He knows she can’t stand hearing him call her ”Bow” like this, right? He knows she’ll have to be dragged away from him kicking and screaming after this, right? No one else can make her lose her mind like this. No one else is going to call her at nigh-4 in the morning to drive away from a body he sunk. No one else is going to make it so repulsively clear that nothing would have changed tonight’s waking nightmare; except, when it mattered most, his plan did change. For her.

[Aubrey was right, she has always been right, and she has never hated herself more.]

Marry me, then. [Finally, she drops her hands. Her face is deathly serious.] Fuck it. If that’s what it takes.

["Marry me, then."

[It's dark. Eren can just barely make out her face in the moonlight, interrupted by leaves and branches, but he can sense the look on her face, hear the weight of her words. How many times has he been the one saying them? And always at the expense of an explosion. He's weaponized those words. He's meant them - every single time.]

You know I will. [His voice is hushed, but...cautious.

[It doesn't occur to him for even a second that the conversation itself is ridiculous. He'll either be dead or in jail by tomorrow morning. Cleaning up the crime scene and making an escape was never part of the plan, and his DNA is well-entrenched in the criminal justice system by now. He's done for, and Aubrey is an accomplice.

[He doesn't care. Being with her - that's what he cares about.]

Aubrey...

[He takes a step closer to her. He'll flinch if she backs away. He reaches for her.]

Kiss me.

[He will. But he doesn’t want a future. But he’s always wanted to marry her. But he’s drowned his future whether he wants it or not. But he wants a kiss. And they’re both… so…]

[Aubrey doesn’t back away. It’s hard to believe Eren would last two days in prison, if he makes it that far, wherever Aubrey is. Frankly she doesn’t think she’d make it far, either. But it’s nice to pretend, sometimes. Right?]

[She pulls him in. It can be nice while it lasts. Easy as their lips together, arms around each other. Easy as pretending that carving so deep will do anything but rot the trunk from the inside out. Easy as wanting. Easy as pretending they’re still in stupid, young, uncomplicated love; that they ever were. Easy as closing her eyes and taking him in, shrouded in darkness.]

[Ah, Eren Jaeger....]

I love you, Eren.

Always will.

Edited (lost notifications are the real hauntings) 2023-10-31 04:49 (UTC)

PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

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