[She doesn’t have to think twice. Aubrey nods into the crook of Eren’s neck.
[It’s barely daybreak. They could stay here forever, she thinks, as the sky rolls by, breathing each other in. It wouldn’t waste a second.
[But she won’t worry Sunny. And she can’t be the only one Eren’s returning to. A self-serving thought, that Aubrey might be one of the first, but… hell. It was every day.]
Tonight, and… [Her fingers curl around the base of his skull, lightly stroking.] Morning, too. [One way or another.]
[She agrees. Eren used to ramble endlessly, thoughtlessly - about anything, even when he didn't understand what he was trying to say.
[It's so difficult now to use words when they haven't been recited, rehearsed, steeled into something cold and false. He doesn't want to give Aubrey cold, false.
[Some impulse overcomes him. The only warning is the slow ease with which he stoops down, hooks his arms beneath her thighs, and lifts her up until he's holding her, as effortless as picking up a ten-pound housecat.
[He'll let her cling - legs, arms, all of her. She can hold him truly and completely, and he'll support the weight. He wishes he could say the words, "I love you," but they still in his throat.
[He holds her tight, close, with a strong arm beneath, and the other around, hand gripping the back of her head.
[Whispers:] How could I ever walk away? [Then, now - how could he ever?]
[Despite the warning of his ease, it’s a surprise. For all that’s happened, he still wants to carry her. Eren asks how he could ever walk away, and Aubrey’s reminded acutely that she’s so often been the one turning away from him. Is that giving up or letting go?
[For now, she holds on to him. Maybe the rest doesn’t matter. He’s here now, and he’ll go when the fight is done, and they don’t have a breath left to waste.
[Aubrey can’t answer with anything they don’t already know, so she kisses him again. Slow. Indulgent, maybe. Wraps her legs around his waist and clings, parting with a soft] I love you.
[Eren breathes in Aubrey's words. It's been so long since he said them himself. What comes instead is a whispered:]
I do...
[Because he does. He loves her desperately, painfully, wretchedly. It can't go unspoken. He offers that soft assurance again - I do - whispered between melancholy kisses.
[He's not particularly concerned with any audience they might have. It's early enough that there aren't that many people around. It's easy enough to shift Aubrey into his arms like a bride and start walking toward the farm. She's not the type that needs to be carried, really, but he doesn't want to let go.]
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[She doesn’t have to think twice. Aubrey nods into the crook of Eren’s neck.
[It’s barely daybreak. They could stay here forever, she thinks, as the sky rolls by, breathing each other in. It wouldn’t waste a second.
[But she won’t worry Sunny. And she can’t be the only one Eren’s returning to. A self-serving thought, that Aubrey might be one of the first, but… hell. It was every day.]
Tonight, and… [Her fingers curl around the base of his skull, lightly stroking.] Morning, too. [One way or another.]
no subject
[It's so difficult now to use words when they haven't been recited, rehearsed, steeled into something cold and false. He doesn't want to give Aubrey cold, false.
[Some impulse overcomes him. The only warning is the slow ease with which he stoops down, hooks his arms beneath her thighs, and lifts her up until he's holding her, as effortless as picking up a ten-pound housecat.
[He'll let her cling - legs, arms, all of her. She can hold him truly and completely, and he'll support the weight. He wishes he could say the words, "I love you," but they still in his throat.
[He holds her tight, close, with a strong arm beneath, and the other around, hand gripping the back of her head.
[Whispers:] How could I ever walk away? [Then, now - how could he ever?]
no subject
[Despite the warning of his ease, it’s a surprise. For all that’s happened, he still wants to carry her. Eren asks how he could ever walk away, and Aubrey’s reminded acutely that she’s so often been the one turning away from him. Is that giving up or letting go?
[For now, she holds on to him. Maybe the rest doesn’t matter. He’s here now, and he’ll go when the fight is done, and they don’t have a breath left to waste.
[Aubrey can’t answer with anything they don’t already know, so she kisses him again. Slow. Indulgent, maybe. Wraps her legs around his waist and clings, parting with a soft] I love you.
[I’ll miss you.]
So much…
no subject
I do...
[Because he does. He loves her desperately, painfully, wretchedly. It can't go unspoken. He offers that soft assurance again - I do - whispered between melancholy kisses.
[He's not particularly concerned with any audience they might have. It's early enough that there aren't that many people around. It's easy enough to shift Aubrey into his arms like a bride and start walking toward the farm. She's not the type that needs to be carried, really, but he doesn't want to let go.]