Reiner's arm is jerked as Eren suddenly stops, bringing them both to a halt. If Reiner were to dig his feet into the dirt and yank, he's sure he could keep going. It would be a struggle to haul an unwilling Eren along—far more of a fight now that they're so much closer in size, Reiner no longer towering the way he once did—but Reiner is certain he could do it.
He doesn't, though. He wants Eren to come with him; he's not willing to force it this time.
Instead, Reiner glances back, meeting Eren's gaze. A spark of anger flickers within Reiner's eyes, though it's nothing compared to the endless well of rage in Eren's. But mostly, Reiner's eyes reveal hurt.
Reiner expected Armin's visit to be about Eren, revealing the kiss Reiner witnessed and chose not to address. He didn't expect it to be about the future. He didn't expect to suffer yet another blow after Eren showed him what happens. He didn't expect to find out about Bertholdt's death.
There was no chance for Reiner to brace for that blow. Maybe bracing for it wouldn't have made a difference; maybe it would've hurt this badly no matter what. Maybe there was no escaping the agony of an essential part of his heart being carved out, leaving an aching, bleeding void where his partner used to live. Or maybe it would've been better if Reiner had someone to hang onto. Maybe he wouldn't have felt alone and betrayed and so fucking stupid on top of everything else.
Reiner spent months pushing for a non-aggression pact, believing that he was the aggressor, that he was the only one who had caused pain, that he had to earn the trust of the Scouts. He had no fucking clue. And they knowingly left him ignorant.
Should he blame Eren for that? Maybe in part. But Reiner only recently asked Eren to tell him about the future—and then Eren left Bertholdt out. Left Reiner ignorant so that Reiner wouldn't be mad at Armin.
That anger flickers brighter, fueled by pain. Reiner is ready for a fight; a part of him even wants one. He wants to hurt Eren. He wants to be hurt by Eren. He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to be held close and comforted. He wants to tear open his skin, transform, and vanish into the wilderness, leaving this world behind.
Instead, he stands silent, watching Eren choose something other than anger. Feeling his own wane in response, the heat of it replaced by yet more cold, choking grief.
Eren's eyes are alight with righteousness. Reiner wonders if his own shine with pain or if they're starting to turn as dull as they are in the future.
He averts his gaze. Squeezes their joined hands tighter.
"I want you here," he says. Then, in the next breath, "You should've told me, Eren."
no subject
He doesn't, though. He wants Eren to come with him; he's not willing to force it this time.
Instead, Reiner glances back, meeting Eren's gaze. A spark of anger flickers within Reiner's eyes, though it's nothing compared to the endless well of rage in Eren's. But mostly, Reiner's eyes reveal hurt.
Reiner expected Armin's visit to be about Eren, revealing the kiss Reiner witnessed and chose not to address. He didn't expect it to be about the future. He didn't expect to suffer yet another blow after Eren showed him what happens. He didn't expect to find out about Bertholdt's death.
There was no chance for Reiner to brace for that blow. Maybe bracing for it wouldn't have made a difference; maybe it would've hurt this badly no matter what. Maybe there was no escaping the agony of an essential part of his heart being carved out, leaving an aching, bleeding void where his partner used to live. Or maybe it would've been better if Reiner had someone to hang onto. Maybe he wouldn't have felt alone and betrayed and so fucking stupid on top of everything else.
Reiner spent months pushing for a non-aggression pact, believing that he was the aggressor, that he was the only one who had caused pain, that he had to earn the trust of the Scouts. He had no fucking clue. And they knowingly left him ignorant.
Should he blame Eren for that? Maybe in part. But Reiner only recently asked Eren to tell him about the future—and then Eren left Bertholdt out. Left Reiner ignorant so that Reiner wouldn't be mad at Armin.
That anger flickers brighter, fueled by pain. Reiner is ready for a fight; a part of him even wants one. He wants to hurt Eren. He wants to be hurt by Eren. He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to be held close and comforted. He wants to tear open his skin, transform, and vanish into the wilderness, leaving this world behind.
Instead, he stands silent, watching Eren choose something other than anger. Feeling his own wane in response, the heat of it replaced by yet more cold, choking grief.
Eren's eyes are alight with righteousness. Reiner wonders if his own shine with pain or if they're starting to turn as dull as they are in the future.
He averts his gaze. Squeezes their joined hands tighter.
"I want you here," he says. Then, in the next breath, "You should've told me, Eren."