[A laugh, of some light and tentative sort, leaves Aubrey before she can hold back.] Hey, h-hey, that’s not one of the questions.... [It’s a nervous thing.]
[She glances at Armin. He’s embarrassed. Back down.]
[There’s a compulsion, again, to be honest. Aubrey’s not sure if it’s from the world or herself.] I don’t… know, really— I haven’t tried to take it off. [Herself, then. She knows the mark isn’t what Armin’s talking about.]
Sixteen is kinda young where I’m from… [Like, really young. Like, only absolute sweethearts—like Hero and Mari– don’t think about them now—would even seriously think about getting married fresh out of high school, at 18, young.]
Last we met, it was really good— but everything I told you before, that’s still true. [That wasn’t a happy admission, either.] I don’t know.
[It scares her. Like she’s not the one who met his intensity with a snarling vow right back. The physical proof is exciting as it is damning.]
[Aubrey needs to steel herself. These uneasy pauses are saying too much as-is.] It doesn’t really matter how I feel about it, does it?
[Armin observes the number. It’s too much. Not because he’s angry at Eren; he’s feeling spurned - that’s true. Eren has done more than enough to hurt him.
[Armin doesn’t care about that kind of hurt, really. They will lose Eren. That’s what lodges a lump in his throat.
[The rest doesn’t help. It’s all compounding. He wishes they were together. Why aren’t they ever together?]
What’s life without love, Aubrey? [His words crack.]
[It’s not as if this universe hasn’t targeted Armin before - he remembers the screens clearly - but this feels different. This feels worse. The question tears through him. He tries to picture what Eren’s face would look like if he were here to hear it, but of course, he’s not here. He’d probably just stare at Armin anyway.]
It was once.
[More. It’s starting to feel stupid to beat around the bush; humiliating.]
[It feels worse than a knife to the side. It’s a memory of being shot through the face. Just another one of the many things Armin endured for Eren.
[Safety and trust; precious nights, taking turns resting their heads on each other’s chests. Soft words, tender hands, Eren’s warmth, and Armin’s bleeding heart. They had dreams together. They had promises. The emotion flows out of him, a watery montage of being in love. The universe doesn’t only demand an answer; it shares these silhouette of a memory with the girl across from him. Mercifully, no screens. Armin should be none the wiser - but he suspects.]
[Aubrey doesn’t want to see or hear this anymore.]
[The universe demands her attention for the montage—but as soon as it’s over she starts pacing, dragging her hands over her scalp.]
[After some half-legible “fuck this, I hate this, of course— he’s so stupid—” grumbling:] I’ll talk to him. Or— Do you even want that?
[She’s not mad at Armin at all; he’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise, the way she stops pacing, sharp, and her frustration fixes him in the crosshairs.]
[Yeah. Yeah. Nothing Aubrey could ever think to say would be better than that.]
[She nods, still fuming.]
[And…]
Do you want a hug? [A pause.] And-or… it’s not very word-y, but…
[Aubrey swings her right hand over her shoulder, fist closed; Armin might not recognize the motion, but in her head, she’s waving a bat.] …you wanna hit something really hard?
[As she says this, Armin takes a moment to focus. He closes his eyes, and five or so wooden titans appear around them - practice targets from his cadet days. Not even Eren knows that he’s the Commander now. ]
Let me show you something.
[He accepts the bat and turns toward two of the targets, both at least fourteen meters tall.
[It happens quickly. Armin releases a grappling hook from his gear and sends it flying into the right titan. As he’s moving through the air, he brings the bat down hard on its nape and smashes it to splinters. He doesn’t descend after that, flinging himself onto the left Titan with his other hook. This time, he unsheathes one of his blades with his free hand and expertly cuts out the nape, thick chunks of wood flying. The grappling hooks then fire to the ground, Armin landing easily.
[He’s not the best in his class at omni-directional mobility, but the exercise is child’s play at this point.]
[Aubrey’s not even gonna bother poking one of the wood-titan’s feet. Anger’s got nothing on the sight of Armin’s high-flying theatrics; somewhere along the line she just drops the bat altogether.]
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[A laugh, of some light and tentative sort, leaves Aubrey before she can hold back.] Hey, h-hey, that’s not one of the questions.... [It’s a nervous thing.]
[She glances at Armin. He’s embarrassed. Back down.]
[There’s a compulsion, again, to be honest. Aubrey’s not sure if it’s from the world or herself.] I don’t… know, really— I haven’t tried to take it off. [Herself, then. She knows the mark isn’t what Armin’s talking about.]
Sixteen is kinda young where I’m from… [Like, really young. Like, only absolute sweethearts—like Hero and Mari– don’t think about them now—would even seriously think about getting married fresh out of high school, at 18, young.]
Last we met, it was really good— but everything I told you before, that’s still true. [That wasn’t a happy admission, either.] I don’t know.
[It scares her. Like she’s not the one who met his intensity with a snarling vow right back. The physical proof is exciting as it is damning.]
[Aubrey needs to steel herself. These uneasy pauses are saying too much as-is.] It doesn’t really matter how I feel about it, does it?
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I’m not seeking to give advice or anything. But…regardless, it does matter.
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[Aubrey is quiet for a while.]
[Then her left hand closes, and she stuffs both in her pockets.] Thanks.
[And so the numbers roll.]
Seventy-five.
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[Armin doesn’t care about that kind of hurt, really. They will lose Eren. That’s what lodges a lump in his throat.
[The rest doesn’t help. It’s all compounding. He wishes they were together. Why aren’t they ever together?]
What’s life without love, Aubrey? [His words crack.]
Just hatred?
I don’t want that.
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[It could be a cold nothing. She keeps her mouth shut, though.]
[Ding!]
“Armin, 59: Does love conquer all?”
Hey, stupid! [Aubrey looks up, apparently irritated.] He just answered! [But she noticed the voice crack. And she glances back to Armin, worried.]
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No, it doesn’t.
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[Armin sounds hollow. Aubrey doesn’t like that.
[She will try not to lose her cool more than the guy being picked on, though. But just as she’s about to offer some… condolence, warning, whatever—]
“Armin, 71: Is your love requited?”
[That is not quite what the question says.]
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It was once.
[More. It’s starting to feel stupid to beat around the bush; humiliating.]
I don’t know anymore.
[More.]
Aubrey, I should tell you something.
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[Dread.]
[Unmercifully, the world goes quiet.]
[“Anymore”…]
[Hands chained like animals.]
It’s him, isn’t it?
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Of course it is. Who else?
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I had no idea.
[Thoughtless.] That makes it worse, doesn’t it?
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[Armin has tears in his eyes.]
It can’t get worse than this. Even if I didn’t feel the way I feel, it wouldn’t matter.
We don’t love in categories. Eren is Eren.
[It’s a mournful statement.]
I loved what we had a lot, but that’s not what’s important to me anymore.
[A message in Aubrey’s ears, in Armin’s voice: "It’s not important to him anymore either.”]
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[Ah.... She wants this stupid ring off.]
But what you feel does matter—
“What if it was still requited, Armin?”
Shut the fuck up! [So much for chill.] God, haven’t you tormented him enough?
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[Safety and trust; precious nights, taking turns resting their heads on each other’s chests. Soft words, tender hands, Eren’s warmth, and Armin’s bleeding heart. They had dreams together. They had promises. The emotion flows out of him, a watery montage of being in love. The universe doesn’t only demand an answer; it shares these silhouette of a memory with the girl across from him. Mercifully, no screens. Armin should be none the wiser - but he suspects.]
I will always love Eren Jaeger. That’s my answer.
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[Aubrey doesn’t want to see or hear this anymore.]
[The universe demands her attention for the montage—but as soon as it’s over she starts pacing, dragging her hands over her scalp.]
[After some half-legible “fuck this, I hate this, of course— he’s so stupid—” grumbling:] I’ll talk to him. Or— Do you even want that?
[She’s not mad at Armin at all; he’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise, the way she stops pacing, sharp, and her frustration fixes him in the crosshairs.]
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That’s not your responsibility, Aubrey.
If Eren wants to talk about this, he needs to do that himself.
You know…
[Wiping the tears from his eyes, he chokes something back and makes himself stand up straighter.]
I’ve always resented cowards who resort to action before using their words.
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[Yeah. Yeah. Nothing Aubrey could ever think to say would be better than that.]
[She nods, still fuming.]
[And…]
Do you want a hug? [A pause.] And-or… it’s not very word-y, but…
[Aubrey swings her right hand over her shoulder, fist closed; Armin might not recognize the motion, but in her head, she’s waving a bat.] …you wanna hit something really hard?
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I believe I’ve already used my words.
[That’s a yes. Though, not to the hug just yet.]
What are we breaking?
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[Huh. He’s actually going for it. Breaking something, even.
[Aubrey likes Armin a little more now.]
[She shrugs. She offers him a nail bat.]
I usually just hit whatever’s in my yard. Trees, shrubs, maybe a trash can… [Challenging:] Bet you’d come up with something better.
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Let me show you something.
[He accepts the bat and turns toward two of the targets, both at least fourteen meters tall.
[It happens quickly. Armin releases a grappling hook from his gear and sends it flying into the right titan. As he’s moving through the air, he brings the bat down hard on its nape and smashes it to splinters. He doesn’t descend after that, flinging himself onto the left Titan with his other hook. This time, he unsheathes one of his blades with his free hand and expertly cuts out the nape, thick chunks of wood flying. The grappling hooks then fire to the ground, Armin landing easily.
[He’s not the best in his class at omni-directional mobility, but the exercise is child’s play at this point.]
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[Those are some bigass targets.]
[Aubrey’s not even gonna bother poking one of the wood-titan’s feet. Anger’s got nothing on the sight of Armin’s high-flying theatrics; somewhere along the line she just drops the bat altogether.]
[As he lands:] That was fucking amazing!
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I could take you with me if you wanted.
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Get out.
[It is not, remotely, a ‘no.’]
hold on tight spidermonkey
I’m stronger than I look. Promise.
armin: -is hold-
fuck it post cunty armin
armin: -is cunty, also-
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dying! at the strikethrough
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not here
[What the hell?]