[ 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?
[ The only reasons Eren ever has to doubt her are the ones she herself creates. Like just then, how she had made such a fuss about taking what he offered her when he didn't even give it a second thought. It's only then that he realizes he's done unto her what she had to him, and in some way that soothes him. They're even now. For some reason, he feels even further emboldened. ]
Might be. I'm not known for being very polite. [ Eren finally swallows and eyes her poor attempt at hiding her mouth like he can see right through it. ] It's not bad. If you like sweets this much, I can't help but wonder what else you enjoy. I was going to have dinner soon.
[ Ophilia says so playfully, not that she’d ever be able to manage any sort of malicious bite. She allows herself a small, stifled giggle before she finishes off the last of her morsel.
Eren’s next offer requires a lot more thought on her behalf. Ophilia’s imposed on him more than enough for one evening—several evenings, in fact—so she thinks it best to pull her legs out from underneath her chin and start cleaning up. She doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. ]
I’m not often spoiled for choice, so I can’t say I have a preference either way. If you’d like to have dinner, though, you mustn’t let me keep you. [ She sets the lid back onto the box, then moves to hop back up onto her feet. ]
[ Eren watches her rise to her feet with some amusement, thinking that such charming behavior must come naturally to her. He isn't nearly as graceful or as energetic, and stands with a little bit of difficulty. The ground, in truth, wasn't quite as comfortable as Ophilia made it feel. As he's stretching and getting ready to go, he quirks an eyebrow, looking down at her. ]
What are you talking about? You're coming with. [ He takes the box up and off the ground, tossing it at the bare kitchen counter where it slides to a stop. ] Much as I liked it, that was hardly a meal. There's plenty of places to eat around here. I'm taking you to one of them, at least.
[ Leaving no room for her to rebuke him, Eren takes her by the hand and leads her to the front door, only to tug at it and stare at it with confusion. Then he draws his head back in mild surprise. ]
[ Ophilia’s first instinct is to protest, to tell Eren he’s gone to far too much trouble as it is, but she loses all coherent thought the moment he whisks her off to the door. Over the sound of her roaring heartbeat, she can’t hear much of anything, much less register that he’s speaking to her. ]
I-I beg your pardon?
[ Voice caught high in her throat, Ophilia stares at Eren incredulously as he jimmies the lock. None of this seems to bother him. Not his hand in hers, not his invitation to dinner with just the two of them—none of it. He takes both in stride, as if they come as easy as breathing to him. She almost has to wonder if there’s something wrong with her.
Swallowing hard, she wills her mouth open to speak. It’s all Ophilia can do to keep from stammering like an idiot. ]
Was I, erm… not supposed to? [ But perhaps more importantly: ] Do you not know how to unlock it?
[ After a pause, in which he stares at her like he can't believe what she's saying, Eren flicks the lock undone and pulls open the door with an awkward air about him. ]
I just don't bother locking it in the first place. I don't even know where the keys are.
[ He props the door open with a foot as he pulls her out into the hallway with him. Her own uncomfortable behavior hasn't slipped him by, and it's at that point that he decides to press it. ]
[ What isn’t bothering her? Ophilia draws swiftly away, but Eren’s hand keeps her from straying too far. ]
N-nothing…? [ She enjoys lying as much as she is good at it—that is, not at all. Her skin is all aflame with embarrassment, and it gives her away entirely. ] But the keys! We mustn’t leave without locking the door and taking the keys!
I'm telling you, there aren't any. [ He sounds completely blase about that fact. ] I must've lost them somewhere.
[ Ophilia never ceases to amaze Eren. Though she tries so hard to conceal her blushing, Eren only needs a glance to spot it. He turns back to her with a look on his face that is his best attempt at not repeating her mistake. ]
If you want me to let go, that's on you. I've gotten used to doing this before I pay for anything.
[ In her current state, Ophilia decides it’d be best to table the lock-and-key argument for another time. Any discussion is bound to be unproductive, because Eren won’t budge and she’s probably seconds from spontaneously combusting on the spot herself. ]
I… see.
[ The weight of his gaze too much to bear, she drops her eyes and hangs her head. ]
Have you considered that perhaps it might, erm… give others cause for misunderstandings…? [ See: Ophilia. She is very much misunderstanding what it means to be dragged by the hand onto a dinner date with Eren. ]
[ He pauses and considers what they must look like. And he gets it, he really does. Ophilia has every right to be concerned about the many possible misconceptions one might make when anyone else were to see them walking hand-in-hand.
While there's a dozen different answers that could easily settle this in an instant, such as that the culture here is so vastly different that no one would bat an eye at them, or that there are so many people out there it hardly matters what they think, what Eren ends up saying hardly solves anything at all: ]
You're wearing gloves, so we obviously can't be close.
[ Ophilia’s chin comes up, her eyes flying comically wide. He cannot be serious. ]
But…!
[ Oh, but he is. Eren fully intends to stand by what he says regardless of how sound his logic may or may not be. Knowing full well she doesn’t stand a chance here either, she surrenders herself to yet another loss. ]
Y-yes. But of course. The gloves. [ She doesn’t sound convinced. ] Will we be gone long?
[ Eren catches on to her quite quickly. He gets them walking again before he responds, just to try and stifle any of her many possible concerns. ]
If you're worried about what might happen to my apartment while we're gone, don't be.
[ But even if he says "don't be worried" he knows that hardly makes a difference for her. So, as Eren drags Ophilia in front of an elevator, he stops and turns to face her, putting his free hand on his waist. ]
I'll have to get the lock replaced since I lost the key. When that happens, you're getting one too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.
no subject
...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.
no subject
… 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!
no subject
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.
no subject
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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Might be. I'm not known for being very polite. [ Eren finally swallows and eyes her poor attempt at hiding her mouth like he can see right through it. ] It's not bad. If you like sweets this much, I can't help but wonder what else you enjoy. I was going to have dinner soon.
no subject
[ Ophilia says so playfully, not that she’d ever be able to manage any sort of malicious bite. She allows herself a small, stifled giggle before she finishes off the last of her morsel.
Eren’s next offer requires a lot more thought on her behalf. Ophilia’s imposed on him more than enough for one evening—several evenings, in fact—so she thinks it best to pull her legs out from underneath her chin and start cleaning up. She doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. ]
I’m not often spoiled for choice, so I can’t say I have a preference either way. If you’d like to have dinner, though, you mustn’t let me keep you. [ She sets the lid back onto the box, then moves to hop back up onto her feet. ]
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What are you talking about? You're coming with. [ He takes the box up and off the ground, tossing it at the bare kitchen counter where it slides to a stop. ] Much as I liked it, that was hardly a meal. There's plenty of places to eat around here. I'm taking you to one of them, at least.
[ Leaving no room for her to rebuke him, Eren takes her by the hand and leads her to the front door, only to tug at it and stare at it with confusion. Then he draws his head back in mild surprise. ]
Why'd you lock it?
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I-I beg your pardon?
[ Voice caught high in her throat, Ophilia stares at Eren incredulously as he jimmies the lock. None of this seems to bother him. Not his hand in hers, not his invitation to dinner with just the two of them—none of it. He takes both in stride, as if they come as easy as breathing to him. She almost has to wonder if there’s something wrong with her.
Swallowing hard, she wills her mouth open to speak. It’s all Ophilia can do to keep from stammering like an idiot. ]
Was I, erm… not supposed to? [ But perhaps more importantly: ] Do you not know how to unlock it?
no subject
I just don't bother locking it in the first place. I don't even know where the keys are.
[ He props the door open with a foot as he pulls her out into the hallway with him. Her own uncomfortable behavior hasn't slipped him by, and it's at that point that he decides to press it. ]
What's bothering you?
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N-nothing…? [ She enjoys lying as much as she is good at it—that is, not at all. Her skin is all aflame with embarrassment, and it gives her away entirely. ] But the keys! We mustn’t leave without locking the door and taking the keys!
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[ Ophilia never ceases to amaze Eren. Though she tries so hard to conceal her blushing, Eren only needs a glance to spot it. He turns back to her with a look on his face that is his best attempt at not repeating her mistake. ]
If you want me to let go, that's on you. I've gotten used to doing this before I pay for anything.
no subject
I… see.
[ The weight of his gaze too much to bear, she drops her eyes and hangs her head. ]
Have you considered that perhaps it might, erm… give others cause for misunderstandings…? [ See: Ophilia. She is very much misunderstanding what it means to be dragged by the hand onto a dinner date with Eren. ]
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[ He pauses and considers what they must look like. And he gets it, he really does. Ophilia has every right to be concerned about the many possible misconceptions one might make when anyone else were to see them walking hand-in-hand.
While there's a dozen different answers that could easily settle this in an instant, such as that the culture here is so vastly different that no one would bat an eye at them, or that there are so many people out there it hardly matters what they think, what Eren ends up saying hardly solves anything at all: ]
You're wearing gloves, so we obviously can't be close.
no subject
But…!
[ Oh, but he is. Eren fully intends to stand by what he says regardless of how sound his logic may or may not be. Knowing full well she doesn’t stand a chance here either, she surrenders herself to yet another loss. ]
Y-yes. But of course. The gloves. [ She doesn’t sound convinced. ] Will we be gone long?
no subject
If you're worried about what might happen to my apartment while we're gone, don't be.
[ But even if he says "don't be worried" he knows that hardly makes a difference for her. So, as Eren drags Ophilia in front of an elevator, he stops and turns to face her, putting his free hand on his waist. ]
I'll have to get the lock replaced since I lost the key. When that happens, you're getting one too.