abandonhumanity | PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

[She's right. He knows she's right. He has no idea where to begin; he doesn't want to.]

It's not something you can just end like that. [Is that enough? No?]

Nothing about the way we felt changed. The circumstances did.

I had to make a choice.

[Eren took the easy way out, using their lives as a distraction against a conversation he didn't feel like having - no one would be wrong to say that.

[But it's more complex than that. Past lovers aren't all that past to Eren. His love doesn't dissipate over time. It exists parallel to his hatred and just as strong. It would be a lie to tell Armin that that connection had vanished; it would be a lie to tell him that he didn't want it anymore - that he doesn't even now; it would be a lie that Armin would never believe. And Eren couldn't bear to sever the last tie left between them.

[Everything he said, everything he did - it was only meant to scare them away.]

[There’s a silence. Aubrey expects more; but the world seems satiated, for now.]

[Her projections were too hasty, then. “What if it was still requited, Armin?” And no matter what, he’d stay just as steady. Nothing but admirable; their love has been so soft, even here; and Aubrey can’t shake the feeling of being boiled under a magnifying glass, even as it’s Eren spilling his troubles.]

[It’s none of your business. It’s not your business, Aubrey. None at all. It is really, truly not your business....]

These circumstances, then. [Is the world forcing her hand or her own stupid will? There’s an edge to her voice.] Would you make the same choice…?

[Eren stares at her.

[She’s his wife. The answer is simple.]

I already made that choice.

[Was it really a choice? The mirror reflects her name, wrapped around his throat. Still. What’s done is done. He hasn’t stopped loving Armin, but he has committed himself to Aubrey, and that matters too. It matters a lot.]

I chose you.

You chose me and you dit— [She bites her tongue, physically, before that can finish.]

[“The way I act is a choice.”
[Aubrey shuts her eyes and breathes in, slowly. Guilt is such a familiar ache. Where has it gotten her, though, really?]

You chose to leave him that way, too. [Time to stare downward again, then; at the myriad of reflections of their feet, grounded and facing each other, inescapably as always. Disappointment carries her tone more than anything.] I know it’s not my business. Or responsibility or anything. Just—

That was a choice.

You’re not listening.

[His voice sounds more impatient than it does genuinely irritated. He’s frustrated at his lack of ability to properly explain…any of this.]

It’s not as simple as that. It’s not something you can leave.

Choosing you doesn’t eliminate him. He doesn’t stop existing.

[That is what it would take.

[On one of the mirrors behind her; and so, reflected in the mirror behind him:

["Because we love each other." Armin held Eren’s face in his hands. "Because we’re always going to love each other - no matter what happens." Eren’s hands came to lay over Armin’s. He closed his eyes. The blonde smiled, laying their foreheads together. "That’s just us, Eren. It always has been."]

[Another snippet of sweetness, then—nothing bitter about it. Not in the moment, and not where it matters. It’d be easy to think, on a default, that it’s a sad memory because softness like that can’t happen again—but it can, as insisted then and as Eren’s insisting now. Did they not hold hands in chains?

[Aubrey turns it over for a while. It’s hard to linger on anything less than loving, basking in the memory still; not at all unlike what she saw of Mikasa. Maybe Aubrey will risk asking about her next, but first…]

I think you should say this to Armin. [It’s a thought out loud, not a judgment. Forget business; Eren is trying to explain.] That you still— I mean, he knows you love him. But I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to hear.

[It usually doesn’t, to her. Not when it’s truly warm.]

[The memory is intimate; all the more so for how simple it is, and how certain, and how light. When Aubrey saw Eren’s memory of Reiner in the barracks, it had been an easy thing to rage against, to demand never to talk about again. It left no room for feeling warmth. But Armin isn’t Reiner, and Eren remembers this conversation; remembers how the two connect. It was a reassurance, a protection, an “I’ll always be your ally.” More than an ally. More than a friend. More than a brother, or a comrade, or anything like that.

[At Aubrey’s recommendation, Eren’s embarrassed to not only feel his face go hot, but see his cheeks go pink in the mirror surrounding them. He feels exceptionally naked all of a sudden.]

Shouldn’t that idea bother you?

[His glare and grumble are half-hearted and young.]

[His question might’ve jarred her more if he wasn’t so obviously fumbling over the whole idea. It’s endearing. Aubrey reaches to flick at those ever-stray hairs of his, just a quick little tease.] I don’t know, should it?

[More seriously:] I mean, I guess it does. But apparently I’m missing something? [Not meant as a jab. Did she not just express upset only for Eren to insist she wasn’t getting it?]

And… it’s just, I don’t know exactly how he took this [raising her left hand a bit, much as it’s concealed by the jacket], but we assumed that meant you were done with him for a reason. Y’know?

[It doesn’t feel right to mention the questions brought Armin to tears.]

[She flicks at his hair, and it’s disarming. The conversation isn’t going badly yet, even though it seems for sure like it should be. For once, Eren understands that he’s contradicting himself, and it actually seems to bother him; it’s like he said - it would be impossible to explain.

[But if Armin saw that Eren got married, of course he’d assume it was over.]

It makes sense.

[There’s no reason Eren should be feeling a sting right now, but something in him does anyway. Shouldn’t Armin know better? He knows that isn’t fair. He knows that.

[Still…

[It’s strange. He really does want her to understand. Eren, ever reaching to be known; ever doomed not to be.]

I’m not…done with Armin. That just wouldn’t be possible…

Don’t you have anyone like that?

[Aubrey loves as painfully as Eren does. He knows that much.]

[Shoving the spotlight right back, then. It’s an old tactic. Not hostile this time, though; it’s somewhere between endearing and strange to realize that.]

[Aubrey’s quiet for a while, again. Romantically, Eren’s name takes the space it’s damn well earned. She probably doesn’t need to tell him that she couldn’t be “done” with him, ever, if she tried—and at this point, she doesn’t want to, for better and worse and every unexpected thing between.

[Not like she hasn’t tried to be done with him, before. It just didn’t work. And this wasn’t the first time.]

I don’t know. It’s not like you are with Armin, but… I definitely convinced everyone I was over my friends, for a few years. [How long has it been since she told Eren that sordid story? There was a lot she left out....]

It’s funny. For a long time I thought I never wanted to see any of them again. [Behind her, and reflected against Eren in turn, a frozen moment: a church, a confrontation. Three lost kids in a corridor, with nowhere to go but at each other.]

Some of them just… forced the issue. [How are they doing, anyway? Is time passing back home? Aubrey looks away, pained.] Who knows where we’d stand now....

You might have convinced them, but you weren't really over anything - right?

[It doesn't sound all that much like a question; the tone is knowing. Not that he ever managed to convince his friends (lovers, what have you) of anything. Armin's persistence is what brought them to this topic in the first place...]

You think they'd feel differently about you? [Eren thinks of his friends.]

Would that matter? [Eren thinks of his friends.]

Maybe they've remained loyal. [Eren thinks of his friends.]

[There’s an uneasy, all-too-knowing tug of a smile at Eren’s words. Another old parallel; “questions” from someone who’s been there. They’re just not trying to tear each other apart this time.

[It’s hard not to feel pried at, though, with his last statement. They’d sworn to stay together, sure. That was before B—]

It’s nice talking with you like this. [Aubrey blurts this out before the scene can shift again. She probably shouldn’t. But it’s like they say about old habits…] You get it.

You say that, but you don't actually want to talk about it, do you?

Yeah. I do get it.

[She's right there. He feels like he should reach out and touch her, but something about the relative peace between them is starting to feel tenuous. Just as Aubrey's noticed, it's a conversation that mirrors older, less pleasant ones; what he's about to say has only ever meant something negative in the past.]

We're the same.

[He doesn't mean it negatively now. It's a matter of connection, a statement of trust. They hold common ground just as much as he and Armin do; it's just different.]

We shouldn't be, maybe. Our worlds are too different. Even so.

[There might be two different names on Eren’s skin to pivot to, but at “we’re the same,” the world starts to offer a different picture. It’s not as obvious as the scenes, however; Aubrey doesn’t notice at first.]

Yeah… But even so, I’m…

[Out the corner of her left eye, a shift in the reflections: her and Eren, looking as they do here, skin scrawled with names—but somehow far more weary. Their mirrored selves make loving, miserable eye contact, and that Eren mouths those damn words again. It’s a memory in third-person.]

[…glad. The continuation dies in Aubrey’s throat.]

Even so.... [A faint echo instead, then.]

[Eren notices Aubrey's demeanor change before he notices their new reflections - miserable, surrounding them.

[Why now? Why now, when they're discussing what they're meant to discuss - and it's difficult, and it's unpleasant, and they're doing it anyway, and they're doing fine.]

Don't pay attention to them, Aubrey.

Look at me.

[He tries to catch her gaze, to lock it in with his own.]

I'm right here.

Guess it was a matter of time, huh?

[Aubrey does look at Eren, the real Eren; still hardly relaxed, but the unease doesn’t feel urgent. Not yet, anyway.

[It’s hard to ignore his neck, though.]

Look… we’re the same, but you shouldn’t be chained to me. [In the periphery, mirror-Eren barks a laugh. Their past selves lock a glare, loathing.] I don’t want that for you.

[I wish it didn’t look like I’m choking you alive.]

[Maybe a kind, supportive, well-adjusted husband would say something like, "I don't feel chained to you!" or "Loving you isn't a prison from which I can never escape!" or something like that.]

It's a little late for that, don't you think? [He holds his left hand up, as if to demonstrate. It drops back to his side.

[To his credit, at the very, very least:]

It's not like I don't want you too. I do.

[Desperately, desperately, desperately--]

I love you.

[The Eren in the reflection mouths: "And I do hate you."]

[Maybe a reasonable, well-adjusted wife would take offense to that first bit. Aubrey doesn’t, at this point. It is too late for them. Their chains have been literal, after all.]

I love you, too. [Even as those mouthed words threaten to stab her all over again. The insistence in Aubrey’s voice is, in non-small part, an attempt to override it.] I do. I just wish it wasn’t so…

[What, complicated? She waves, halfheartedly, at the reflections, drawing nearer to each other, burning. It’s impossible for them to have not been there, to get here.]

This happens every other time. [Nominally, she means the world-screw happening at all.] It doesn’t get easier.

[Eren wants to argue that, half for the sake of arguing at all. He's told Aubrey not to focus on the reflections, but he can't take the advice himself. The dread inside of him is rising. Keep yourself under control.

[He moves to her and takes her hand, lacing their fingers securely together. He tries to meet her eyes again, to get her to look at him and stay looking at him.

[Eren had no way of knowing what contacts were before Aubrey took hers out. It is different now, looking into her eyes. They're a beautiful color. He wants to bury himself in them.]

Nothing gets easier. It doesn't matter.

Keep moving forward.

[It’s easier with their hands together. Aubrey tries to lock their eyes; she doesn’t need to leave his to know her reflection is wrenching away from “him,” mouthing a scream: “Get away from me!”]

We will. [She squeezes his hand. The jacket falls, exposing every corroded inch, as she moves to take Eren’s other hand, too. They have to steel themselves.] What are we moving toward?

[An honest, nearing-desperate question. They have to have a purpose; that’s why the world is reminding them what happens, how they circle and thrash, when they don’t. Right?]

[It's a muddy, dangerous question. How many times has Eren's goal changed since arriving here? How many times has it changed minute to minute, hour to hour? He's told Aubrey that he needs to go home - that that goal is the most important. He's also told her that he wouldn't leave her. He's also told her that he aims to get her home. Their goal is to find the people in charge. Their goal is to learn how to shape the universe until they're the only Gods. Their goal is to break each other into pieces manageable enough to love. Their goal is to be one. Their goal is to never see each other again.

[None of it makes sense - but he can't bear to say, "I don't know."]

Right now, we're just doing what we have to to survive. We're figuring out the next step.

[He dare not look at the reflections. He knows what happens next after Aubrey pushes him away. He's afraid of going back there.

[He squeezes Aubrey's hands.]

We're taking back control.

[‘Control’ isn’t a word Aubrey would have thought to use about… any of this, really. The world doesn’t control them (except when it’s forcing truth from their mouths); they can shape it, sometimes, but they’re playing in a sandbox, not directing it. She’s never felt like Eren controls her—or that she could control him, or that either have much reign over themselves, at the end of the day.]

[But her reflection doesn’t run. The figures meet again, not unlike how Eren and Aubrey stand now—but in chains. Wrist to wrist; neck to neck. And from every angle, they stare; the real Aubrey and Eren at each other, the mirrors at them. Cornered prey.]

[Aubrey liked the shadow-people without faces better.]

[Finally, uncertain in quiet for just a bit too long… she nods, simply.]

We’ll figure it out.

[The faces mirroring Aubrey are furious. Devastated. Insolent. Broken.]

We have to.

[Eren knows very well what it feels like to have eyes on him - always, always, there are eyes on them. But this feels different; the two people who know them better than anyone, staring them down - judging, warning, mourning. Eren's hands squeeze Aubrey's again. His right hand clenches and unclenches around her a few more times after that.]

We should go somewhere else. [His voice is sharp.] We can.

To Shiga-- to the tree.

[That anxious clench around her own hand is new. Aubrey tries to match it; a counter-focus, if nothing else.]

Your tree. Right. [They’ve never tried shifting the scene to the same place, have they? She leans up and kisses Eren, quick and sweet, before closing her eyes in focus.] We can just love each other....

[And take the world back together.]

Our tree.

[Mikasa and Armin's names burn on his skin. He kisses Aubrey, taking her face in his hands. "We can just love each other." It can be that simple. It can stay this safe.

[He's quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of safety. The last time things went badly, he'd felt more than ever like he was dying. He hated that feeling. He wants to run from it; he wants to chase the opposite, chase her, chase this.

[He thinks of Shiganshina. He thinks of their tree - their tree, no...]

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