[Armin looks up from where he'd been tapping his knuckles, expression perplexed and cautious. He listens patiently, knuckles hovering about an inch above the wooden table, frozen mid-knock. The implications of Bertholdt being here - and Aubrey's friend, if he's understanding right - are...immeasurable. Could this really be some version of Hell?
[Her last words make him suck in a sharp breath through his nose, eyes going slightly wide. He lays his palms down flat on the table, feeling a tickle at the nape of his neck; a tickle in his sinuses as well.]
no subject
[Her last words make him suck in a sharp breath through his nose, eyes going slightly wide. He lays his palms down flat on the table, feeling a tickle at the nape of his neck; a tickle in his sinuses as well.]
Bertholdt...told you that? Really?