[ Using both hands, Ophilia picks up her present and feels for where the wrapping paper starts. Getting rid of it all is no small task—especially not with how much tape he’s used—but with enough patience and determination, she’s able to take it off and keep it in one whole (if a bit crumpled) piece. The lid comes off next, and once Eren’s taken care of the packaging keeping it safe, she scoops up what’s beneath.
One look at the couple in the glass—girls, she knows, even with their hoods drawn over their heads—is all it takes. They, the hill they’re looking over, and the cathedral not too far off from them are all too familiar. Her eyes fly wide. The realization blindsides her completely, leaving her winded like a blow full to the gut.
It’s her. It’s Lianna. It’s home. ]
Eren, I—
[ Ophilia’s voice breaks under the weight of the memory. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or to throw her arms around him and cry. She decides to do neither, hanging her head instead. ]
[ With how little he knew of her home, some liberties had to be taken. The scene inside the glass was hardly a match for her memory. But Eren wouldn't know that. All he knows is that when Ophilia overlooked her home town with her sister, she was happy. Something which he couldn't say about her now.
But he thinks no less of her for feeling the way she does. All he holds against her is his hand at her back, which reaches up to her shoulder and ever so slightly pulls her head back up. When she's able to lock eyes with him, his are kind. ]
...you haven't even looked at the bottom yet.
[ Eren's given her many strange hugs, for even stranger reasons. This time, he does it so that he can cover her arms and hands with his own and keep her steady where she needs it most. Turning the snowglobe over reveals a thin knob on the bottom - what it's there for isn't immediately obvious. ]
Go ahead. Give it a turn, first. Then tell me if you want it or not.
[ With his hands there to guide her, Ophilia winds the key. Inside, something clicks and whirrs to life, and though the snowscape remains frozen still, she watches intently in fear she might miss something if she doesn’t.
The music box chimes just as she turns to look to Eren, commanding her attention back immediately. It plucks note after gentle note to a tune she’s never heard before. All the same, it sounds like home—like how a snowflake should twinkle when the light catches on it just right.
When the song ends, it does mid-bar on an awkward step between notes. She hates that it’s over. Her heart aches, fit to burst with a riotous spectrum of feeling—of sadness, of longing, of happiness and delight. How best can she put that to voice? ]
Oh, but it’s…
[ It’s so many things. It’s wonderful, beautiful, entirely unlike anything she’s ever seen or heard, and… ]
It’s magical. Truly.
[ And in the warm circle of his arms, it’s mesmerizing. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
One look at the couple in the glass—girls, she knows, even with their hoods drawn over their heads—is all it takes. They, the hill they’re looking over, and the cathedral not too far off from them are all too familiar. Her eyes fly wide. The realization blindsides her completely, leaving her winded like a blow full to the gut.
It’s her. It’s Lianna. It’s home. ]
Eren, I—
[ Ophilia’s voice breaks under the weight of the memory. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or to throw her arms around him and cry. She decides to do neither, hanging her head instead. ]
… It’s too much. I couldn’t possibly accept this.
no subject
But he thinks no less of her for feeling the way she does. All he holds against her is his hand at her back, which reaches up to her shoulder and ever so slightly pulls her head back up. When she's able to lock eyes with him, his are kind. ]
...you haven't even looked at the bottom yet.
[ Eren's given her many strange hugs, for even stranger reasons. This time, he does it so that he can cover her arms and hands with his own and keep her steady where she needs it most. Turning the snowglobe over reveals a thin knob on the bottom - what it's there for isn't immediately obvious. ]
Go ahead. Give it a turn, first. Then tell me if you want it or not.
no subject
The music box chimes just as she turns to look to Eren, commanding her attention back immediately. It plucks note after gentle note to a tune she’s never heard before. All the same, it sounds like home—like how a snowflake should twinkle when the light catches on it just right.
When the song ends, it does mid-bar on an awkward step between notes. She hates that it’s over. Her heart aches, fit to burst with a riotous spectrum of feeling—of sadness, of longing, of happiness and delight. How best can she put that to voice? ]
Oh, but it’s…
[ It’s so many things. It’s wonderful, beautiful, entirely unlike anything she’s ever seen or heard, and… ]
It’s magical. Truly.
[ And in the warm circle of his arms, it’s mesmerizing. ]
Thank you, Eren.