#fhalke

. . . @fhalke

                      PALE BLUE EYES soften at a known, recognized pain. he remembers, so clearly, being told what happened to bertholdt. he remembers the shock, spreading like ice from his head to the tips of his fingers. though at the end bertholdt had been an enemy, at the very start, he had been a friend. armin not only regrets being the one saved, but also being the one to have done the killing. and now falco, still so young, with the same heavy burden to carry. sympathetic eyes watch the younger’s face, mouth set in a grim line.   ‘   i’m sorry, falco. but, it’s true . . . you inherited 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕵𝖆𝖜.   ‘              -             oh, the shame of killing a friend.

                              “ --  !!”

THE IMPACT of a such small body in collision with his ribs startles a rough grunt out of Eren, ill-prepared as he was to find a pair of gangly arms suddenly locked in a tight vise around his waist. What little breath he’d held suspended between his threadbare lungs expels past his lips in a short rush noiseless air as he braces himself on the edge of his seat / only barely stopping his momentum from sliding off the bench entirely and landing his ass in the dirt, next to the crutch laid prone beside him. Even so, his arms instinctively move to hold Falco in place / the boy’s head pressed close to his aching sternum, his crown sitting somewhere beneath Eren’s dull-thudding heart. ( AND THERE: HE HAS THE IMPRESSION OF A BIRD BEATING ITS WINGS ‘GAINST THE GILDED BARS OF ITS CAGE. ) Unsubtle though Falco is at the best of times - ( with his heart, much like his pride / doom, pinned to his sleeve ) - this brazen display of informality comes uncharacteristically / for all he knows of the soft-spoken cadet who’d knelt beside him that day, with his whispered words and detatched notions of peace and safety / all at long last. 

Eren - coward that he is - can only swallow down the complicated knot of emotion building in his throat and lay a heavy hand to Falco’s nape, mussing the sweat-damp tufts of hair curling there. It’s good that he’s so energetic, but ...

THE ACT comes without declaration / spontaneous as the ocean’s tides, in the same manner all children are - unpredictable, CARE-FREE. Indeed, no sooner had that pair of gangly arms conformed themselves to the curve of one gaunt cheekbone than had Jäger received an involuntary whiff of sea-salt, imbedded deep into the fibers of Falco’s uniform clothing. And oh, he should think, that would explain ‘some’thing - he seems to spontaneously recall ‘some’ mention of the Warriors venturing out towards Liberio’s docks for the day ... but that rediscovered bit of knowledge does little to assuage his curiosity at the boy’s reaction. After all, it’d only been a scant few hours since they’d seen each other last. It’s a thought he only briefly entertains, naïve as it is - NO, Behemoth !! of course not; surely your presence wasn’t missed that much. All the same, however, Jäger settles his chin on the ground, apparently content to let Falco ‘have his fun’ for as long as he is able to tolerate the heat of a Titan’s flesh ‘gainst his own.