[ For several hours after, Ophilia is nowhere to be seen.
Why she’s so late isn’t apparent until she gently raps on what might be the umpteenth door that afternoon, a small parcel tucked into the crook of her arm. His neighbors can likely attest to how long she’s been wandering from door to door, but goodness knows how long she’s spent looking for an appropriate gift for her host. ]
Forgive me if I have the wrong apartment—I seem to be having trouble telling them apart from one another!—but might Eren be home?
[ The door creaks open. It doesn't see much use. Standing just past the doorframe is Eren, who looks like you would expect. Gloomy, for one. But that's only after he sees Ophilia. He stares down at her, holding back a sigh. ]
Right here. That's not for me, is it? [ Eren waves at the box, then quirks a brow. ] Don't tell me you went around knocking on every door until you found the right one.
[ Of course that's the case - it's Ophilia he's talking to. Nothing was out of the question with her around. ]
You are indeed well after all! Oh—but, erm, please excuse my manners.
[ Ophilia does precisely as she’s told and makes no mention of the past half hour. She does, however, offer him the present she brought with both hands. The immaculate wrapping job hides a box laden with assorted baked treats, most of which are more likely to appeal to her than they are to him, she thinks. ]
I thought it would be remiss of me not to bring something. Where would you have me—
[ ‘Put it,’ she’s about to say, but as she peers over his shoulder, she realizes there isn’t anywhere she can put it save a bed tucked away in the corner. He… can’t possibly live like this, can he? ]
[ He can't possibly live like this, but he does all the same. Believe it or not, this place used to be fully furnished and even looked lively. Eren took time out of his day to toss most of the furniture here out or sell it for enough money to buy food with. The walls were once even colorful, but a bucket of white paint made short work of that too. ]
...Here. [ Just inside the apartment and to the left of the door, there's a kitchen area, and a lot of empty space on the counter. Eren leaves the door open behind him. ] How did you know I liked sweets?
[ There's a hint of surprise in his voice that hasn't been present in anything he's said before. After sizing the box up and realizing it's quite a lot to eat all at once, he puts off the idea of going at it now and instead looks back at Ophilia. ]
How much did this cost you? I'll... [ Pay you back, is what he wants to say. But he knows her type will insist, so he opts for an alternative, hesitantly. ] Have to get you something, sometime.
[ There is something astounding about a man like Eren, with his furrowed brow and pursed lips, openly professing his love for sweets. Ophilia stops dead in her tracks and looks at him as though he’s just admitted to his hand in a crime most heinous. ]
I didn’t! [ But now that she does know, she’ll be filing that away for future reference.
Ophilia follows him, mindful not to leave the door unlocked behind her or track in any dirt, and sets the box down on the empty counter beside her. Having something—anything—there almost starts to make the place seem lived in. Perhaps she ought to bring him more when next she visits. ]
I appreciate the thought, but you needn’t go to all the trouble. As the one intruding, I owe it to you, do I not?
[ Before taking the time to reply, Eren takes a seat on the only piece of furniture he has - his bed. He's resting his arms on his knees, and since he's only got the mattress without even a frame to hold it up, they practically cover his face when he crosses them. Eren looks like a kid who's been told to sit in the corner, and he almost sounds like it when he finally opens his mouth. ]
You don't owe me anything. And you're not intruding unless you intend to stay here. Until then, you're just a visitor.
[ But even he can tell when he's acting up. He peeks at her sheepishly and leans back with his arms to support him. His hands sink into the blanket that's been neatly made over his bed. ]
A visitor with gifts. Bring that over, will you? Might as well get this out of the way while you're here.
[ Fortunately for him, Ophilia’s dealt with many an unruly child in her time. He can be as surly as he likes; she’s an exceedingly patient young woman, and it doesn’t bother her any. ]
So long as you’re certain it’s alright.
[ Tempting as it is to test his mattress for comfort, Ophilia tucks her legs in underneath her and settles down across from his feet instead. She sits the gift in question in her lap once she’s made herself at home on the floor. ]
Would you like to do the honors? [ It is his gift. Opening it and being the first to taste anything seems inappropriate, so she holds it out for him to do so instead. ]
[ Eren stares at her uncomfortably before slipping onto the floor himself. He figured she would sit right next to him, but likely out of concern for the state of his bed, she completely subverted his expectations. It's only after she holds out the gift to him that he breaks eye contact and takes a look once again at what she's brought him. ]
... [ His earlier gruffness seems entirely hollow as he struggles to unwrap the package. ] Uh...huh. Okay...
[ It's open, and he's discarded the sheet she's used to wrap it without tearing it at all. His eyes flick up to her quickly before he picks out the smallest treat he can find and brings it into his mouth. Then, he holds the box out to her, and after swallowing, urges her. ]
Have some. I'm sure you wouldn't get me anything you wouldn't eat yourself.
[ Ophilia watches with rapt attention, both to gauge Eren’s reaction and because the care with which he peels the wrapping paper off is genuinely fascinating. The latter ends up absorbing her more than the former, and before she knows it, the sheet is gone without so much as a wrinkle left behind. She can barely bring herself to tear her eyes away from his handiwork. ]
Oh, but I couldn’t possibly…
[ For all her demurral, though, Ophilia is very much taken with the arrangement laid out before her. Picking just one proves difficult, but she eventually helps herself to a sizeable morsel from the box’s center. It tastes every bit as good as it looks, and she makes no attempt to hide the fact. ]
Goodness, these are rather lovely! I almost regret not having bought some for myself! [ She holds out what’s left of her selection—a small sponge cake with cream and a healthy dollop of jam—out for him to try. ] Would you like some?
[ His head draws back immediately. He hasn't picked out anything in the time she's been savoring her choice, mostly because he similarly wanted to catch her reaction. While he can't allow himself to easily enjoy the snacks in her presence, he's really put on the spot when she offers him something she hasn't even finished. ]
Must be pretty good if you want me to have some too.
[ With some hesitance, he takes it between two of his fingers and drops it into his mouth with the side she's bitten off going in first. He hardly has any time to taste the flavor before he pushes himself to swallow, and the gooey sensation lingering on his tongue has him making a face that expresses his discomfort.
A hand covers his mouth. ]
...Maybe we should split these all in half, first.
[ He goes to do just that with one ball-shaped treat, and ends up breaking only a small fraction of it off. Pinching it, he stifles a groan and nibbles away at it. ]
It's good that there's two of us. [ Don't talk with your mouth full, Eren. ] I don't know how I'd get through this on my own.
[ For someone who supposedly enjoys sweets, something about Eren’s expression is… off. Off enough that a pang of guilt shoots through Ophilia’s heart, and she wishes very badly that she’d simply let herself enjoy the cake for what it was on her own. ]
They were meant for you, Eren. You needn’t go to all this trouble for me.
[ Not that what she says does anything to dissuade him from breaking it apart anyway. She’s reluctant to take the piece he leaves for her, especially on account of the fact he looks even more uncomfortable. She’s torn between leaving it for him so as not to ruin it all, and accepting it so as to be polite. ]
You’ll find that treats are meant to be enjoyed only on occasion and in small amounts, not all at once. [ She pops her helping into her mouth and, unlike Eren, waits to finish it before she continues. ] They aren’t as special otherwise.
Is this special? [ He thinks about it for a moment, completely forgetting about the snacks, comes to a startling realization. ] I guess it is.
[ He shifts his weight. The knee that he had kept up between him and Ophilia is lowered and he takes a much less defensive position. Eren's been watching her long enough to know when she is and isn't feeling so good. She makes it obvious enough. The only reason he can think as to why she might not be entirely comfortable is because he himself isn't.
So he really does make an effort to at least seem that way. ]
If anyone's ever done something like this for me before, I can't remember it. You might just be the first, Ophilia. [ His expression lightens up a little. ] I'm pretty bad with guests. I don't have them often. Or at all.
[ Something wells up inside Ophilia. It pains her to think about what he’s really saying: that there’s never been anybody else, that he can’t find it in himself to trust anybody else. She can scarcely imagine the sort of life he’s lead to warrant being so guarded, and the idea he might not be any less wary of her than he is any other person makes her heart sink. Briefly, she wonders how hard it must be for Eren to stomach her being there at all, let alone sharing food a few feet apart from one another.
She can’t bear thinking about it for long, so she doesn’t. ]
Well, whether this marks your first time or not, it doesn’t have to be the last. You don’t have to be alone. [ She sincerely hopes it won’t be. She’d never be able to live with herself if she left him to take on that burden on his own. ] But if you preferred things as they were, then we can finish these, and I will be on my way.
[ Ophilia dares to reach out and rest a hand on his knee, smoothing out vague shapes to reassure herself more than to reassure him. ]
[ Eren's not sure what to say to that. It's never been about whether he preferred things as they were or not. Because he's never had that choice before. Whether or not he liked it, everything that happened to him or around him was always out of his control. Although he had spent all his life fighting for his own agency, it was only here as he sat with a girl he hardly even knew that it occurs he already has it.
He just has to say the word, and he would have his way. It's a luxury he could never imagine himself having before now. ]
...
[ Eren minds her touch far less than her face. He doesn't want to let it affect what he says, so he turns to the ceiling like he can see right through it. ]
You're very kind. More than most. I'd like it if you stayed. [ His head tilts to the side. ] And although it might not be that obvious, I wouldn't even be talking to you now if I didn't think it was worth it.
[ Then, and only then, does he let his eyes trail past his leg, up her arm, and to her face. After a stiff breath: ]
I would've locked the door and kept you going. Gifts be damned.
[ And stay Ophilia gladly does, but something keeps her from smiling about it. Because there it is again, she thinks. There’s that look in his eye.
Ophilia saw it first on Iris, when they crammed their way onboard a transport vehicle. She saw it a second time when she brought him clothes and a towel to wipe his face with, and then again when he greeted her at the door but a few moments prior. They are each their own separate incidents, of course, with little to tie them all together. Eren’s response, though, is triggered by the same thing every time:
Her. Ophilia is the problem, somehow, and she knows it.
That she lived it and experienced it—that she saw the way she hurt him—is not evidence enough, but the proof is in what Eren never says. When the silence hangs for a second too long, she knows. When he looks at her because he thinks she won’t notice, she knows. When the air crackles with an awful nervous energy, like a too taut bowstring ready to snap, she knows. There’s something inexplicably wrong with her, and because of it, Eren can’t stand her.
Ophilia’s fingers see themselves off with a gentle pat, not wanting to overstay their welcome. They help her crawl her way over to Eren’s side instead, where she sits, her hands folded neatly in her lap to keep from fidgeting—or, Aelfric forbid, touching him. ]
You know, Eren… I cannot stop you from locking me out, but if you willingly choose to close yourself off from the rest of the world, you’ll never know just how much everybody cares about you.
[ She takes a deep breath in, holds it, then lets it out in one long sigh. Though her voice is no more soft than it usually is, it carries a wistful note that makes her words weigh heavy. ]
I made that mistake once. I would hate for that to happen to you, too.
[ Her words are a warning against what seems like the inevitable. That he might never know what it is to be cared for by others if he doesn't let them. But the reality of his isolation is different. He knows what it's like for others to care for you, because he's been the one who cared for others the most. But they weren't here now, and he didn't know what to do without them.
Eren was lost. He thought he had done a good enough job of living in their absence. But if it that obvious to Ophilia, who he hardly even knew, then what did that say for the many others he's come to know over the course of his stay here? Had he merely been keeping them at arm's length this whole time? The truth of it was that he was ready and willing to keep on going like that until the day he made it back home. Because he was never going to accept living somewhere he didn't choose to.
But if that meant he would never let his guard down around others, even if they meant well, was it really worth it? It's a question he thought he knew the answer to. Eren stares blankly at Ophilia as she comes to his side. He wonders if what he wants and what he needs are truly one and the same. It practically hurts him to talk, but he forces himself to. For Ophilia's sake more than his own. ]
It doesn't sound very pleasant, I'll admit.
[ His head turns to face her more. This close up, at this angle, it's easy to see the emotions he tries so hard to hide slip through the cracks. The way he clenches his jaw every time he has to say something difficult. The way his eyes flit between hers as if he's unsure what to look at. ]
But the people that cared for me haven't been a part of my life in a very long time. Be it my family, or my friends - none of them are here. And although I miss them very much, nothing is going to change that. It's...
[ Their eye contact is broken. He feels vulnerable, and tries so very hard to not let it show. But it's plain as day. ]
[ Plain as day, indeed. Ophilia recognizes it and knows how he feels all too well, even if she doesn’t know him. She doesn’t need to know who he is, where he’s from or what he’s done to know how it hurts. She’s experienced it firsthand, if only for a short while, so she’s familiar enough with the ache that she’d never wish it on anybody else. It’s why she feels compelled to offer him her hand, or sit at his side, or simply smile: she doesn’t want that for Eren.
It’s also why she’s glad he’s making an effort to try and meet her halfway. Eren goes to great lengths just to look at her and even further to talk to her, which tells Ophilia that he doesn’t want it for himself either. She beams, relieved by the fact. ]
No one said that you had to go it alone.
[ Ophilia holds his gaze for as long as he’ll let her. If she thinks anything of what she sees—of the uncertainty in his eyes, of the tension in his jaw—it doesn’t show on her face, nor does she make any mention of it. Eren allowing her this much is a gift, and she wants to treasure that. ]
There are people who care for you here, too, Eren. Of that, I am certain.
[ Her tone brooks no argument. Because she cares. She can’t speak to anybody else that might, but Ophilia cares. ]
[ He wants to ask her how she can be so sure. How, without him even knowing what his problem was, she had managed to assuage all his worries so easily. But the answer's right there in front of him. In the clutter on the floor, in her presence at his side. In the way she so earnestly means everything she's ever said to him.
She intended to be there for him. Even if no one else was. Even if all she could do was bring him her smile.
Eren sat there, thunderstruck. He didn't know what he had done to deserve this, but the point of it was that it didn't matter what he did or didn't deserve. All that mattered was that she wanted something different for him than a life alone. Gradually, he began to warm up to the idea. ]
I know you are. I'm just so surprised. Ophilia, people like you are rare.
[ People that are good to be good and needed no other reason. Virtuous people. Even having only known her for a short time, Eren had no reason to doubt that Ophilia might never find someone to match her in that regard. He knew it was impossible for him. Which was all the more reason to admire her.
His shoulders that had been drawn close slump to his side as he sits up straight, all tension gone from his body. Even sitting the way they were, Eren has to tilt his head down to look at her. He's never really paid attention to much of the details of anyone, much less Ophilia who was always so difficult for him to face. Eren turns his whole body to her so that he can't look away, no matter how much he wants to. He finds that it's a lot easier now. ]
[ It’s Ophilia’s turn to be surprised when Eren pays her a genuine, from-the-heart compliment. She’s heard it plenty from others before, and she’s learned to deflect them in a way that only further proves their point. From Eren, though, it almost doesn’t seem right. It’s the most honest she’s seen him since having met him.
Strange though it might be, Ophilia decides that it isn’t an unwelcome surprise. She likes that he’s become willing to open himself to new possibilities. She especially likes that he’s become willing to open himself to her, bit by bit, slowly but surely. ]
Perhaps not everyone. [ A part of Ophilia laments that she can’t say otherwise. ] But I’ve been helped by many a kind soul, and for that, I am grateful. I could never have made it as far as I have without them.
[ Which is more true than Eren might ever know. From the vault of her mind, myriad faces spring forth. She owes them each something. To some, she owes her thanks; to others, she owes her life and more. There are people without number she finds herself indebted to—her friends, her father and her sister especially—and she wouldn’t have lived to sit by him had they not chosen to help her in one way or another. They don’t account for everybody, though. Because Eren is right: for as many people as she is glad for having met, people like her are still rare.
But are they so rare that they warrant that look from him? Concern cuts a tense line through Ophilia’s brow. ]
Am I allowed to ask about where you’re from? The people—what are they like?
[ If who she was today - kind, gentle, and forgiving - was only a result of those around her, what did that say of Eren, who in almost every respect was her opposite? Eren was never particularly nice, always callous, and never let go of the past no matter how often others attempted to persuade him to.
All along the way, he had plenty of people with him, supporting him, and yet in the end he spurned them all to the last. How many had died for his sake? Even one was too many, and yet he stood now today only as a result of all the bodies that had piled up beneath him.
Ultimately, Eren comes to the conclusion that Ophilia was simply a better person than he was, from a better world than the one he had lived in. That went without saying. But even if he's never claimed to be a good person himself, it does still bother him. Perhaps if he had lived a life similar to hers, he might not have ended up this way. But he doubts that. ]
Of course you are. [ He answers her directly to clear his thoughts. ] You're free to ask whatever you'd like, Ophilia. No matter what.
[ Eren means it. Others might not get anything more than lies and deceit from him, but Ophilia deserved the truth. However much it might pain him to talk about it. This, at least, is one topic that he thinks he can talk about without much trouble. ]
Like everywhere, there's good people and bad. If you asked me, I'd say there's more scum in the world than not. [ His head tilts away, then turns back to her. ] But I've been fighting a war most of my life, so I know that might be somewhat biased.
[ The look of abject shock Eren receives speaks where Ophilia does not. She’s experienced war, and because of it, she knows it, within and without. She knows where it goes, tragedy inevitably follows; where it goes, villages are razed, loved ones are lost, and children are without parents. The fact defines her as much as the robes she wears and the path she walks do.
It begs the question, then: what does war mean to someone who has not only experienced it, but also participated in it? Ophilia can’t even begin to fathom the answer to that. The grief she’s known is likely nothing in comparison to the bodies he’s seen, the cries he’s heard. That he was willing to take up arms on the moon in spite of what he’s suffered sits ill in her stomach, to say nothing of the ease with which he pulled the trigger. ]
I’m terribly sorry to hear it.
[ Ophilia tucks her knees under her chin and shrinks into her cowl, where she hopes her racing thoughts won’t find her. Her eyes withdraw with her, flitting away and down to their feet. She finds nothing there that might give her comfort, so she opts to try and change the subject. ]
But you have family there, don’t you? And friends? Surely it wasn’t all bad.
[ When his answer is met with silence on her part, Eren grows curious. Like never before, he watches her earnestly, wanting to know if he had said something wrong. Perhaps she was preparing to rebuke him, and he couldn't blame her if she did. But she does nothing of the sort. She only extends her sympathies. ]
...It is what it is.
[ Eren similarly at a loss. He desperately wishes that she might not withdraw further, but the longer he watches her, the further away it feels she gets. He raises a hand briefly, as if to extend it, but pulls it back without doing anything. ]
I have no living family. A brother, perhaps, but I only got the chance to speak with him for the first time a few months ago. [ Uncomfortable as he is, he wrings his hands like doing so will calm him. But they're missing something, he feels, and has no idea what that is. ] And what friends of mine still live I'm sure want nothing to do with me. I wish them only the best, regardless.
[ Ophilia regrets ever having asked. The feeling sinks into the pit of her stomach like a rock, and no matter how she sits or where her mind wanders, she can’t seem to rid herself of it. ]
… I’m sorry, Eren.
[ For a while, that’s all Ophilia can bring herself to say. She’s dredged up far more than he should ever forgive her for, and she fears that anything more might ruin what trust she’s worked so hard to nurture between them. But apologizing does, in some small way, help. It slowly works the knots raveled tight in her gut undone. ]
I cannot pretend to know the burden you’ve borne. What I do know, though, is that I’ve seen a selflessness in you that I rarely do in other fighting men. I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me—nor have I forgotten about the terrible mess you made afterwards.
[ The thought makes it hard to resist a smile. It remains hidden behind the cover of her knees, but it’s there in the crinkles of her eyes. Goodness, but if he didn’t look a fool then.
Without segue, Ophilia scoops up the box of half-eaten treats left abandoned beside them. If they must commiserate, she’ll insist that they at least do it on a full stomach. ]
I also know that these pastries are starting to go to waste, and we can’t have that!
[ It didn't matter to Eren what she was sorry for. He's certain it never would. He would forgive her regardless. If she was afraid that she's tread on his toes with her questions, she didn't have to be. But he thinks it's something a little different than that.
Where he had long ago distanced himself from all emotional responses to his past, she needed only the barest hint of what that might be to feel sorrow on his behalf. It was a sympathy he didn't deserve, and one that he's not sure how to reciprocate. As he lowers his eyes to her hands, she moves them out of his reach immediately.
Looking back at her now, she looks ridiculous. But the smile that extended past cover and up to her eyes goes even further and reaches him. He has to bring a hand up to cover his mouth, but before she gets any funny ideas about how he might be again perturbed by the thought of sharing food with her, he snatches one of the pastries up, bites off a sizable piece, and holds the rest out to her. ]
Definitely not. [ His words are slurred by the fact that he's got half a strudel stuck in his mouth. ] Your turn.
[ Ophilia feels her face flush with heat when he offers her a taste of her own medicine. Her eyes dart to and fro between him and the pastry he’s holding, unsure of how to go about taking it. Eating it straight from his hand seems wrong—and incredibly embarrassing besides!—so she takes it from him first then samples it for herself.
Nothing about Eren’s expression tells her what to expect. Ophilia, however, makes no attempt to hide how she feels, her glee writ plain on her face. If that isn’t proof enough, her unvarnished squeal of delight almost certainly is. ]
Mm! It’s impolite to talk while eating, though. [ She thinks she’s being subtle by hiding her mouthful behind her strudel-less hand. ] Oh, but I love this one, too! What do you think?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i make the rules now and i say there is a 31st
Why she’s so late isn’t apparent until she gently raps on what might be the umpteenth door that afternoon, a small parcel tucked into the crook of her arm. His neighbors can likely attest to how long she’s been wandering from door to door, but goodness knows how long she’s spent looking for an appropriate gift for her host. ]
Forgive me if I have the wrong apartment—I seem to be having trouble telling them apart from one another!—but might Eren be home?
no subject
Right here. That's not for me, is it? [ Eren waves at the box, then quirks a brow. ] Don't tell me you went around knocking on every door until you found the right one.
[ Of course that's the case - it's Ophilia he's talking to. Nothing was out of the question with her around. ]
no subject
[ Ophilia does precisely as she’s told and makes no mention of the past half hour. She does, however, offer him the present she brought with both hands. The immaculate wrapping job hides a box laden with assorted baked treats, most of which are more likely to appeal to her than they are to him, she thinks. ]
I thought it would be remiss of me not to bring something. Where would you have me—
[ ‘Put it,’ she’s about to say, but as she peers over his shoulder, she realizes there isn’t anywhere she can put it save a bed tucked away in the corner. He… can’t possibly live like this, can he? ]
no subject
...Here. [ Just inside the apartment and to the left of the door, there's a kitchen area, and a lot of empty space on the counter. Eren leaves the door open behind him. ] How did you know I liked sweets?
[ There's a hint of surprise in his voice that hasn't been present in anything he's said before. After sizing the box up and realizing it's quite a lot to eat all at once, he puts off the idea of going at it now and instead looks back at Ophilia. ]
How much did this cost you? I'll... [ Pay you back, is what he wants to say. But he knows her type will insist, so he opts for an alternative, hesitantly. ] Have to get you something, sometime.
no subject
I didn’t! [ But now that she does know, she’ll be filing that away for future reference.
Ophilia follows him, mindful not to leave the door unlocked behind her or track in any dirt, and sets the box down on the empty counter beside her. Having something—anything—there almost starts to make the place seem lived in. Perhaps she ought to bring him more when next she visits. ]
I appreciate the thought, but you needn’t go to all the trouble. As the one intruding, I owe it to you, do I not?
no subject
You don't owe me anything. And you're not intruding unless you intend to stay here. Until then, you're just a visitor.
[ But even he can tell when he's acting up. He peeks at her sheepishly and leans back with his arms to support him. His hands sink into the blanket that's been neatly made over his bed. ]
A visitor with gifts. Bring that over, will you? Might as well get this out of the way while you're here.
no subject
So long as you’re certain it’s alright.
[ Tempting as it is to test his mattress for comfort, Ophilia tucks her legs in underneath her and settles down across from his feet instead. She sits the gift in question in her lap once she’s made herself at home on the floor. ]
Would you like to do the honors? [ It is his gift. Opening it and being the first to taste anything seems inappropriate, so she holds it out for him to do so instead. ]
😔
... [ His earlier gruffness seems entirely hollow as he struggles to unwrap the package. ] Uh...huh. Okay...
[ It's open, and he's discarded the sheet she's used to wrap it without tearing it at all. His eyes flick up to her quickly before he picks out the smallest treat he can find and brings it into his mouth. Then, he holds the box out to her, and after swallowing, urges her. ]
Have some. I'm sure you wouldn't get me anything you wouldn't eat yourself.
no subject
Oh, but I couldn’t possibly…
[ For all her demurral, though, Ophilia is very much taken with the arrangement laid out before her. Picking just one proves difficult, but she eventually helps herself to a sizeable morsel from the box’s center. It tastes every bit as good as it looks, and she makes no attempt to hide the fact. ]
Goodness, these are rather lovely! I almost regret not having bought some for myself! [ She holds out what’s left of her selection—a small sponge cake with cream and a healthy dollop of jam—out for him to try. ] Would you like some?
no subject
Must be pretty good if you want me to have some too.
[ With some hesitance, he takes it between two of his fingers and drops it into his mouth with the side she's bitten off going in first. He hardly has any time to taste the flavor before he pushes himself to swallow, and the gooey sensation lingering on his tongue has him making a face that expresses his discomfort.
A hand covers his mouth. ]
...Maybe we should split these all in half, first.
[ He goes to do just that with one ball-shaped treat, and ends up breaking only a small fraction of it off. Pinching it, he stifles a groan and nibbles away at it. ]
It's good that there's two of us. [ Don't talk with your mouth full, Eren. ] I don't know how I'd get through this on my own.
no subject
They were meant for you, Eren. You needn’t go to all this trouble for me.
[ Not that what she says does anything to dissuade him from breaking it apart anyway. She’s reluctant to take the piece he leaves for her, especially on account of the fact he looks even more uncomfortable. She’s torn between leaving it for him so as not to ruin it all, and accepting it so as to be polite. ]
You’ll find that treats are meant to be enjoyed only on occasion and in small amounts, not all at once. [ She pops her helping into her mouth and, unlike Eren, waits to finish it before she continues. ] They aren’t as special otherwise.
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[ He shifts his weight. The knee that he had kept up between him and Ophilia is lowered and he takes a much less defensive position. Eren's been watching her long enough to know when she is and isn't feeling so good. She makes it obvious enough. The only reason he can think as to why she might not be entirely comfortable is because he himself isn't.
So he really does make an effort to at least seem that way. ]
If anyone's ever done something like this for me before, I can't remember it. You might just be the first, Ophilia. [ His expression lightens up a little. ] I'm pretty bad with guests. I don't have them often. Or at all.
[ She's probably the first there, too. ]
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She can’t bear thinking about it for long, so she doesn’t. ]
Well, whether this marks your first time or not, it doesn’t have to be the last. You don’t have to be alone. [ She sincerely hopes it won’t be. She’d never be able to live with herself if she left him to take on that burden on his own. ] But if you preferred things as they were, then we can finish these, and I will be on my way.
[ Ophilia dares to reach out and rest a hand on his knee, smoothing out vague shapes to reassure herself more than to reassure him. ]
Whatever you’d like.
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He just has to say the word, and he would have his way. It's a luxury he could never imagine himself having before now. ]
...
[ Eren minds her touch far less than her face. He doesn't want to let it affect what he says, so he turns to the ceiling like he can see right through it. ]
You're very kind. More than most. I'd like it if you stayed. [ His head tilts to the side. ] And although it might not be that obvious, I wouldn't even be talking to you now if I didn't think it was worth it.
[ Then, and only then, does he let his eyes trail past his leg, up her arm, and to her face. After a stiff breath: ]
I would've locked the door and kept you going. Gifts be damned.
😔😔
[ And stay Ophilia gladly does, but something keeps her from smiling about it. Because there it is again, she thinks. There’s that look in his eye.
Ophilia saw it first on Iris, when they crammed their way onboard a transport vehicle. She saw it a second time when she brought him clothes and a towel to wipe his face with, and then again when he greeted her at the door but a few moments prior. They are each their own separate incidents, of course, with little to tie them all together. Eren’s response, though, is triggered by the same thing every time:
Her. Ophilia is the problem, somehow, and she knows it.
That she lived it and experienced it—that she saw the way she hurt him—is not evidence enough, but the proof is in what Eren never says. When the silence hangs for a second too long, she knows. When he looks at her because he thinks she won’t notice, she knows. When the air crackles with an awful nervous energy, like a too taut bowstring ready to snap, she knows. There’s something inexplicably wrong with her, and because of it, Eren can’t stand her.
Ophilia’s fingers see themselves off with a gentle pat, not wanting to overstay their welcome. They help her crawl her way over to Eren’s side instead, where she sits, her hands folded neatly in her lap to keep from fidgeting—or, Aelfric forbid, touching him. ]
You know, Eren… I cannot stop you from locking me out, but if you willingly choose to close yourself off from the rest of the world, you’ll never know just how much everybody cares about you.
[ She takes a deep breath in, holds it, then lets it out in one long sigh. Though her voice is no more soft than it usually is, it carries a wistful note that makes her words weigh heavy. ]
I made that mistake once. I would hate for that to happen to you, too.
😔🤝😔
Eren was lost. He thought he had done a good enough job of living in their absence. But if it that obvious to Ophilia, who he hardly even knew, then what did that say for the many others he's come to know over the course of his stay here? Had he merely been keeping them at arm's length this whole time? The truth of it was that he was ready and willing to keep on going like that until the day he made it back home. Because he was never going to accept living somewhere he didn't choose to.
But if that meant he would never let his guard down around others, even if they meant well, was it really worth it? It's a question he thought he knew the answer to. Eren stares blankly at Ophilia as she comes to his side. He wonders if what he wants and what he needs are truly one and the same. It practically hurts him to talk, but he forces himself to. For Ophilia's sake more than his own. ]
It doesn't sound very pleasant, I'll admit.
[ His head turns to face her more. This close up, at this angle, it's easy to see the emotions he tries so hard to hide slip through the cracks. The way he clenches his jaw every time he has to say something difficult. The way his eyes flit between hers as if he's unsure what to look at. ]
But the people that cared for me haven't been a part of my life in a very long time. Be it my family, or my friends - none of them are here. And although I miss them very much, nothing is going to change that. It's...
[ Their eye contact is broken. He feels vulnerable, and tries so very hard to not let it show. But it's plain as day. ]
It's difficult to move on all on my own.
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It’s also why she’s glad he’s making an effort to try and meet her halfway. Eren goes to great lengths just to look at her and even further to talk to her, which tells Ophilia that he doesn’t want it for himself either. She beams, relieved by the fact. ]
No one said that you had to go it alone.
[ Ophilia holds his gaze for as long as he’ll let her. If she thinks anything of what she sees—of the uncertainty in his eyes, of the tension in his jaw—it doesn’t show on her face, nor does she make any mention of it. Eren allowing her this much is a gift, and she wants to treasure that. ]
There are people who care for you here, too, Eren. Of that, I am certain.
[ Her tone brooks no argument. Because she cares. She can’t speak to anybody else that might, but Ophilia cares. ]
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She intended to be there for him. Even if no one else was. Even if all she could do was bring him her smile.
Eren sat there, thunderstruck. He didn't know what he had done to deserve this, but the point of it was that it didn't matter what he did or didn't deserve. All that mattered was that she wanted something different for him than a life alone. Gradually, he began to warm up to the idea. ]
I know you are. I'm just so surprised. Ophilia, people like you are rare.
[ People that are good to be good and needed no other reason. Virtuous people. Even having only known her for a short time, Eren had no reason to doubt that Ophilia might never find someone to match her in that regard. He knew it was impossible for him. Which was all the more reason to admire her.
His shoulders that had been drawn close slump to his side as he sits up straight, all tension gone from his body. Even sitting the way they were, Eren has to tilt his head down to look at her. He's never really paid attention to much of the details of anyone, much less Ophilia who was always so difficult for him to face. Eren turns his whole body to her so that he can't look away, no matter how much he wants to. He finds that it's a lot easier now. ]
Is everyone like this, where you're from?
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Strange though it might be, Ophilia decides that it isn’t an unwelcome surprise. She likes that he’s become willing to open himself to new possibilities. She especially likes that he’s become willing to open himself to her, bit by bit, slowly but surely. ]
Perhaps not everyone. [ A part of Ophilia laments that she can’t say otherwise. ] But I’ve been helped by many a kind soul, and for that, I am grateful. I could never have made it as far as I have without them.
[ Which is more true than Eren might ever know. From the vault of her mind, myriad faces spring forth. She owes them each something. To some, she owes her thanks; to others, she owes her life and more. There are people without number she finds herself indebted to—her friends, her father and her sister especially—and she wouldn’t have lived to sit by him had they not chosen to help her in one way or another. They don’t account for everybody, though. Because Eren is right: for as many people as she is glad for having met, people like her are still rare.
But are they so rare that they warrant that look from him? Concern cuts a tense line through Ophilia’s brow. ]
Am I allowed to ask about where you’re from? The people—what are they like?
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All along the way, he had plenty of people with him, supporting him, and yet in the end he spurned them all to the last. How many had died for his sake? Even one was too many, and yet he stood now today only as a result of all the bodies that had piled up beneath him.
Ultimately, Eren comes to the conclusion that Ophilia was simply a better person than he was, from a better world than the one he had lived in. That went without saying. But even if he's never claimed to be a good person himself, it does still bother him. Perhaps if he had lived a life similar to hers, he might not have ended up this way. But he doubts that. ]
Of course you are. [ He answers her directly to clear his thoughts. ] You're free to ask whatever you'd like, Ophilia. No matter what.
[ Eren means it. Others might not get anything more than lies and deceit from him, but Ophilia deserved the truth. However much it might pain him to talk about it. This, at least, is one topic that he thinks he can talk about without much trouble. ]
Like everywhere, there's good people and bad. If you asked me, I'd say there's more scum in the world than not. [ His head tilts away, then turns back to her. ] But I've been fighting a war most of my life, so I know that might be somewhat biased.
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It begs the question, then: what does war mean to someone who has not only experienced it, but also participated in it? Ophilia can’t even begin to fathom the answer to that. The grief she’s known is likely nothing in comparison to the bodies he’s seen, the cries he’s heard. That he was willing to take up arms on the moon in spite of what he’s suffered sits ill in her stomach, to say nothing of the ease with which he pulled the trigger. ]
I’m terribly sorry to hear it.
[ Ophilia tucks her knees under her chin and shrinks into her cowl, where she hopes her racing thoughts won’t find her. Her eyes withdraw with her, flitting away and down to their feet. She finds nothing there that might give her comfort, so she opts to try and change the subject. ]
But you have family there, don’t you? And friends? Surely it wasn’t all bad.
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...It is what it is.
[ Eren similarly at a loss. He desperately wishes that she might not withdraw further, but the longer he watches her, the further away it feels she gets. He raises a hand briefly, as if to extend it, but pulls it back without doing anything. ]
I have no living family. A brother, perhaps, but I only got the chance to speak with him for the first time a few months ago. [ Uncomfortable as he is, he wrings his hands like doing so will calm him. But they're missing something, he feels, and has no idea what that is. ] And what friends of mine still live I'm sure want nothing to do with me. I wish them only the best, regardless.
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… I’m sorry, Eren.
[ For a while, that’s all Ophilia can bring herself to say. She’s dredged up far more than he should ever forgive her for, and she fears that anything more might ruin what trust she’s worked so hard to nurture between them. But apologizing does, in some small way, help. It slowly works the knots raveled tight in her gut undone. ]
I cannot pretend to know the burden you’ve borne. What I do know, though, is that I’ve seen a selflessness in you that I rarely do in other fighting men. I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me—nor have I forgotten about the terrible mess you made afterwards.
[ The thought makes it hard to resist a smile. It remains hidden behind the cover of her knees, but it’s there in the crinkles of her eyes. Goodness, but if he didn’t look a fool then.
Without segue, Ophilia scoops up the box of half-eaten treats left abandoned beside them. If they must commiserate, she’ll insist that they at least do it on a full stomach. ]
I also know that these pastries are starting to go to waste, and we can’t have that!
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Where he had long ago distanced himself from all emotional responses to his past, she needed only the barest hint of what that might be to feel sorrow on his behalf. It was a sympathy he didn't deserve, and one that he's not sure how to reciprocate. As he lowers his eyes to her hands, she moves them out of his reach immediately.
Looking back at her now, she looks ridiculous. But the smile that extended past cover and up to her eyes goes even further and reaches him. He has to bring a hand up to cover his mouth, but before she gets any funny ideas about how he might be again perturbed by the thought of sharing food with her, he snatches one of the pastries up, bites off a sizable piece, and holds the rest out to her. ]
Definitely not. [ His words are slurred by the fact that he's got half a strudel stuck in his mouth. ] Your turn.
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Nothing about Eren’s expression tells her what to expect. Ophilia, however, makes no attempt to hide how she feels, her glee writ plain on her face. If that isn’t proof enough, her unvarnished squeal of delight almost certainly is. ]
Mm! It’s impolite to talk while eating, though. [ She thinks she’s being subtle by hiding her mouthful behind her strudel-less hand. ] Oh, but I love this one, too! What do you think?
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