He reaches his hand to the base of his neck and timidly fiddles with his hair, keeping his adorned stare on you from the other mattress. This gesture had never crossed anyone's mind irregularly, even though he repeated the subtle movement almost every day for the past few weeks. Once after re-meeting you, another time during the sorrowful conversation with his brother, yet again when you returned from you and Jean’s canoe exploration mishap, and now followed this. He even recalls doing so before this year’s camp season started, for 5 straight years to be exact. This soft-touch punctured Eren so deep in the heart, the only method he ever thought of to preserve your impression was to do it himself, but it never felt the same. The way you'd comfort him, your innocent, little hint that you might just love him as much as he does still rings in his mind, so he's carried out this motion ever since.

Your sleeping form is excessively sweet, it's pure and gentle and he wants to jump in right next to you, wants to feel your soft inhales and exhales against his neck, to hold you and to protect you, to wake up beside the most tender being imaginable. With his own clothes embellishing your skin just as you were now, when you began accepting his subtle gifts of affection could he breathe more clearly, It’s like you were his.

"You're kind of creepy staring at her like that."

He's unnerved by the presence before him, a younger boy fresh out of slumber from the way his silk garments cling to his body. He carries a pillow against his side, scratching at his tangled blond tufts with the other hand. Has he been standing there the entire time? Eren swallows down his adoring pride, directing his head hung low to the child.

" 'morning Falco. Don't... don't think anything of this. I was just-"

"Admiring her?"

"What? no-"

Falco croaks a chuckle, still dry and achey from laying quiet in his slumber just minutes ago. He sits on the edge of your bed, placing his pillow before your feet as to not disturb your sleep if he accidentally jerks or shifts. He’s only a few inches from your tucked position and it takes a decent amount of strength for Eren not to ask him to move away in worry of waking you, or maybe it was more of slight envy that he was allowed such close contact. Eren hadn’t reestablished that permission just yet.

“Seeing you gawk over her isn’t nearly the weirdest thing you’ve done." Falco was intrigued with the way his counselor was so needless to his own actions. Curiously, Eren shifts forward on his bed, urging the kid to continue.

"You put everyone else's priorities below hers, every time. I think you feel it's your first concern to make sure she's ok when it doesn't have to be, but for you, it needs to be. She could've been any other person you'd have met in your life, yet you befriended her and created so much more of a relationship. You've done this to yourself on purpose because her care means everything to you, she's become significant in your life and you want nothing about that to change, correct? Don't get me started about how you guard her like personal security, and what about those times you kept your head down to hide your blush when you're secretly staring at her-"

"Don't you dare finish that line."

"...It's obvious you admire her at the very least."

He couldn’t deny how observant Falco was, honestly Eren kind of liked it. Maybe all he said was beyond safe thoughts to speak about between a young adult and child, but it came with the feeling of being understood. It didn't sound too vague like a fresh-born crush, and it wasn't stepping over any barriers you had silently gated between each other. He knew he needed you near him, with him, and that one word perfectly captures his feelings of respect for you. If love wasn't ready to be spoken yet, admiration was the next best thing. Of course, there was no better reaction to hide his vulnerable state in front of Falco.

Eren was red again, blushing at the ears, letting a child physically admit his feelings about you to him. No matter how deeply he tries to focus someplace else, all Eren’s emotions in front of a singular twelve-year-old are tattled out like some report. Falco sounds factual almost, believable enough to think his words had been written on paper to present like a researched essay, providing resources and examples, the whole nine yards. There's nothing Eren could say to change the topic now, for they were too sunken into this conversation about you, literally in front of you. The kid just had to pound down at his feelings before 7:00 am.

"In the years you two weren't in contact, we were in your position. More familially I think, though I can't speak for my brother." Falco giggles, and what exactly he implies could set Eren off the walls had he paid closer attention. "I know it makes you nervous and all, but if you don't tell her soon..." The young boy halts his words, hazel eyes meeting souls of turquoise. His subjective was deep, "I fear something might happen."

Eren questions his intuition, supporting himself on the bed as he leans over his arm, looking completely desperate for more information. "What, like you have some gut feeling?"

Falco nods, blinking asynchronously to release any more exhaustion from his droopy eyes. "I hate to think this way, but nothing strange has happened here yet, do you get what I'm implying?" He says, and the older boy stiffens just a little.

"You think something bad might happen to her?"

"To anyone, but... yeah." And unfortunately, Falco makes a fair point. These past few weeks had felt beyond indifferent, maybe it had just been the connection you and Eren were establishing somewhat smoothly, sending as stable signals as two adults enchanted with each other could, maybe there was something to come. Bad things always happened wherever Eren went, misfortunes have attached themselves to the boy like a ball to chain. Maybe that's why he's refrained from leading you on in this twisted game you've been playing, because he’s aided hardships wherever he’s gone.

"Even your years-long argument couldn't get in the way of your feelings, but you've gotta make sure she's ok first." Falco agonizes, pouting his bottom lip forward. "If anything happens to her and Colt finds out, we're all in huge trouble." It takes another few seconds for Eren to realize who the boy is mentioning again, remembering Falco's older brother. The name was recognizable to him, heard of only during drop-offs and pickups half a decade ago. "Years ago, she was caught up in a fire and suffered some memory loss. 'took her a few weeks to remember who any of us were but Colt was livid." And Eren keeps his jaw clinched, refraining from any further note on such a delicate subject. When Falco chooses to say nothing more it signifies that Colt must've never heard of what else occurred, Eren intends to keep it that way.

"So Colt is... close to her?"

If Eren didn't have additional time on his hands, an hour before his alarm would ring precisely, the conversation that follows would become intolerable if he received it too quickly.

"The closest, I’m sure." Falco states.

So, Not him.

Was it ever him?

"Your crush is my brother's best friend, officially making her mine too. They've created every memory possible together". He states it so proudly, conveying how truly joyful he was to consider you the closest thing to family he had ever known. Every growing collect of confidence he composed in himself dripped directly from Eren's faith, pondering on what kinds of memories Falco was referring to, did he even know how diverse the topic of "everything" was? Eren's interest reached its peak, babbling out of his mouth before he even permitted it in doing so.

"What kinds of memories."

"I wasn't there for every moment, I'm sure they would've found it extremely uncomfortable if I were there for the intimacy." He softly laughs, raising his hand to pet at your shoulder. Though Eren wasn't laughing with him. How cruel of the kid to speak such things to him out loud. Eren was trying to peruse you, ignorant to who else had claimed you before himself.

He had been in such contemplation that his selfish mind full of faults, absorbed in his own existence, hadn't even noticed how much time had passed between you two. He missed you, the one he used to know, in all honesty, he barely had a clue about the lovely girl sleeping in front of him. He was onlyfortunate enough to reconnect with you after summers restrained through misery and dread. He did his very best to keep your happiness existing, removing him and his scrambled troubles away from everything that could've added the slightest bit of stress on you. Still, you looked uneasy wherever you went.

None of your shared moments seemed to matter after you parted ways. When he removed himself, you were willing to find your satisfaction again in someone else. Even if it meant filling the empty void of lost time you once kindred together.

Perhaps it's easier to carry on that way.

"You two really love her, huh buddy."

"Mhm, and I know you do too."

Following a deep breath, Eren stands to his full height, approaching the camper with a hand to stabilize him in getting onto his feet. "I'll see what I can do about my own faults, but I won't let anything happen to her again. I promise." Eren makes this promise, knowing very well it's too strong of a word for him to keep.

Dozens of campers line the back lawn, stretching along the sidelines before participating in the current week's event. The Pinehurst games annually encourage campers and counselors to participate for privileges within your cabin. It's something almost every camper wants, more for the benefit and bragging privileges than enjoying the relationship built with their teammates. Some people truly give it their all, demanding for the top score, others play until they lose the motivation to continue on, and most tend to laze around with nothing better to do.

You approach your group right beside your cabin, smiling bullishly while stretching their limbs and hyping each other up. Eren isn’t here yet, unusual of the boy to be running late for such an important event. You grip his red headband, hoping to tie it around his neck. Maybe you’ll get the chance to trail your fingers through his hair before he leaves your side-

"Sorry, I'm ready to begin." He says, hurdling over Jean who's seated himself in a straddle position on the ground. He spares no glance at you, blindly grabbing his headband and messily double knotting it behind his head. Falco and gabi stare at each other and then to you, aware of how hostile their counselor had just been. Their eyes silently beg for him not to return to the old version of himself present just weeks ago, but you however pass the thought by, thinking it must have been his early morning nerves that kept him closed off from you. You'd been doing well with him so far, building the relationship you both missed. But did it not appear that you missed him? Or did it come to his attention that he has larger issues to worry over?

"Eren," you shout, enough to alert the boy. He visibly gulps when he turns around, now seeing you decked out in your baggy shirt and grey shorts. You look real pretty, maybe you could throw his sweatshirt over you, though that would make you his. You aren't his.

"You're up first for us, good luck." You send him a smile and his heart's gone all numb again, tingling from your pearly teeth and squinty eyes. That look was it for him, it felt so special, yet part of him guessed you'd been practicing for someone else, who you truly want to show it for at the end of the summer.

Following behind a crowd of supporters and participants, you and the kids find a spot near a tall pine tree, glancing out over the water that cascades in parallel with the sky. The horizon's rising sun mixes hues of tangerine and blue, reflecting against the water to raise it’s temperature.

Eren stands before the shore, swim shorts stretched to his mid-thigh and shirt squeezing his muscles in, then it's off. Somehow your mind assumed he'd be swimming fully clothed so shit his shirts off-

If you thought he was beautiful before you were certainly misguided in the best ways, he was breathtaking. sun-kissed, chest matching the skies glow. Abdominals arrayed in perfect line with each other, not ripped, but they held themselves together in more of a lean build. Eren understood what exercises would get him the shape he wanted, it was a given he'd put lots of care into himself for the last few years. He truly was a different person than he used to be, still temperamental in many ways, but he had grown. Grew from the silly accidents he used to get himself into as a child, living through the most traumatic adolescence to find himself here today, and certainly, he grew... physically, following down his v-line. If you could squint hard enough, you swore the smallest bit of stubble was sprouting from above his bulge.

It was quite the view.

"Taking it all in?"

Mikasa locates your group, keeping guard of her own that runs around and distracts other campers. She really examples an enlightened motherly figure, while Jean represented more of a lazy, good-cop father. You perch your head towards a completely different direction, admiring the vast acres for a split second as you persuade yourself you'd been staring into the wilderness all along. "Yeah, the trees are beautiful Mika."

She places one hand under your chin, returning your face to its more comfortable angle towards the brunette swimmer. "Please, do look some more," she smirks, knowing exactly where you'd been drooling at, more specifically who.

Eren begins into the water with his competitors, little waves splashing against his thighs and it's hard for you to refocus your eyes anywhere else when he reaches his hands down to adjust his waistband out of your peripheral vision. It had totally been on purpose, but Eren would let you have just an inch father of his skin to look at. He thought it'd be cute to see you struggle like this.

"I don't blame you for looking, you know." Mikasa starts, and you're left with your face prickling with how uncomfortably loud her comment sounded to you. "Mika!"

"What?" she chuckles. "I may treat him like my brother, but I'm not denying he's hot."

You groan and blush at her comment, though you aren't necessarily disagreeing. "So, you've never tried to go after him?"

"Meh, he's not my type." She whispers, refocusing on a more scruffy brunette who’s now pushing Eren's head underwater followed by a snarky laugh.

"At least I thought I had another type." She winces.

"I think you care for him a lot, you just aren't used to showing it." You say, tenderly placing your hand onto her shoulder." She looks at you softly before coming back with her remark. "And you know these feelings, how?"

"Because... I'm not used to showing mine either."

"So just go for it!" she shouts, cheering away from your hold. "What's the worst he can say?"

"NO", Mika he's got so much on his mind, I couldn't add another problem for him to make a priority." You watch as the blow horn is set off, signaling the swimming race to commence and the competitors legitimately fly, chilling water grazing their skin so effortlessly. Eren doesn't look back once, persisting to move his hands in circular strokes. Everything he does has full effort and care, it'd be impossible for you to see his problems overcome him.

"I'll help him through whatever he needs though, I promise.

Eren grudges through the crystal lake, surpassing one final opponent before reaching the shore in victory. The children of your cabin come speeding towards him, latching their arms around his torso to give him one group hug, and you let yourself stare just for a moment, of how potentially happy he could feel without any challenges or sacrifices in his way.

You promised Mikasa, and you'd promise Eren that he'd never need to sacrifice again. By tomorrow, you'd be picked up and driven towards a future that would benefit everything in the years to come, for Eren’s sake.

In the final activity concluding the Pinehurst games, a volleyball match of all events, your team had easily made it to the semifinals. Counselors are required to pay for their cabin, as it's part of their contract but it isn't mandatory for your campers to play, thus your group of kids has chosen the option of cheering you on from the sidelines. Falco stands calmly, throwing you one of his cute little waves. He looks so excited to see you play, sporting a shirt with your camp initials written on the front, "I drew it on!! '' He enjoys boasting because for him spirit is much more important than the actual game. Too bad you couldn't view the entirety of his lovely creation, for half of his shirt is covered by the weirdest-chanting child you've ever seen right beside him. Her hair is tied into a messy knot, showcasing her crafty jewelry made from raw pasta as she waves her arms to their full extent. You and Eren nestle comfortably against one another, in loose athletic clothes dampened with participation and skill. He sends a soft smile to the kids, and for a second you feel his complexion is as far as it will develop. It's serene, in saying he truly feels comfortable here, he feels at home. Like everything he's struggling with is just pushed to the back of his mind. It worries you how much he's been pushing everything back, how often he dismisses anything relating to his adolescence, he won't tell you a single memory. Eyebrows still frowning, you turn your head to the left, eying quite a competitive opponent who's missing her lunch for this, and her slightly smaller partner whose mind is out of the game, the only energy he emits is being used to grow the peach fuzz barely sprouting from his head.

They stand in assorted order, Connie guarding any back passes and Sasha protecting the front of her side of the net. You let Eren take the lead this rotation, watching him unnoticeably strut up to the center of the court and squat into position. Nice ass... Pondering too far off, as usual, your perfect view of his sculpted body leaves more than one distraction to your vision, enough to completely miss the first ball of the match. Connie aces his serve without you even budging from your position.

Eren eyes you over his shoulder, letting a chuckle slip through his tender lips. He holds a hand out in front of him, already using one of your first breaks to communicate what you figure must be so drastically important by the way he relaxes his browns, angling his chest down to you as- he's approaching you. His jaw tips down the slightest towards your face, eyes laying thin, only softening his complexion by the feature of his adorable smile. "Why don't you and I switch spots, huh?"

"I think that would be best." you titter, embarrassed by how mediocre your playing skills are. You peak through your eyes, enough where he's barely in sight so you avoid any more embarrassment.

"Better view for me anyways."

That makes you blink in surprise, double-taking up at the growing smirk plastered on his face. how he could be so nonchalant in a time so serious, so important to the reputation of your cabin and kids. Damn, you were aware you liked it too. Perhaps the only reason you brushed it off with a matching quirk was that he seemed more usual, and normal. He was becoming his old self, developing this familiar confidence you missed so dearly. You shake your head, allowing him the privilege of laughing at your blush while you pass him. You can hear him chortle from the back of his throat as you squat into position, knowing you're only serving the comment he requested.

Within 4 out of 5 sets, you somehow managed a small lead over your opponent, falling back on Eren’s sturdy saves to get the ball in the air and over the net, rather than you actually hitting it. If you could avoid it for this long, surely another round wouldn't be stressful to think about. Sasha readies her position, and her partner prepares one foot back. He lifts his arms parallel to the dirt ground, lined by outgrown grass, and rubbed off spray paint as the ball flies into the air. Connie approaches his target and serves over the net, the ball shifting itself directly towards Eren. He manages to receive it just as he'd easily done so all 14 times before. Now as it levitates over to your direction, it flies much slower than before. You think setting the ball would be the simple move, to let Eren take the lead, but you want to make him proud, you want to win for your team, for gabi whose vocal cords are strained beyond thought, and for Your best friend's little brother showcasing his merchandise so proudly. So as everyone approaches the net for Eren’s hit, three members on the court land from their positions dumbfoundedly. The ball had hit the floor early from your fakeout. A risky move indeed for someone not so experienced in the sport but with the world's luck, you unexpectedly managed to dump the ball over rather than your expected play.

Did you seriously score the winning point? You can see it on Sasha and Connie's complexions, still in utter shock by a movement they planned to perform next. Everything seems blurry still, and you're not sure if the nerves have something to do with a winner's ever-present anxiety but that's how you feel, like a winner. It's then you see your partner's hands high in the air, shaking frantically to match his initial reaction. There's that smile again, though it's different than before. It's open, goofy, has a set of teeth shining and everything. It's directed to you, for you. You can't stop him from smiling simply because you're the cause of it, a wonderful feeling that couldn't be created by anyone other than you in this present moment.

He stutters his step before thinking over how he wishes to congratulate you, following his instinct to overexpress his joy. His hands find your shoulders and shake them back and forth, sweeping any last nerves from your system. Your ears are still tingly from children’s screams and hollers, but you're grateful to understand "Atta girl, we did it!" mouthed from Eren’s pink parted lips.

and you feel like crying, almost. Because he's so damn beautiful, he's charming you in your shared moment of victory. Why is no one congratulating him? His effort brought you this win, not the single point you scored. But Eren is just so special, he couldn't care less if he gained a single point or one-hundred. Because if you put your mind to something, you accomplish it and it’s what he looks for. Eren's never met someone like you, so similar to him that a win for you is a win for himself. Everything you do is with full passion, and it excites him, makes him all giddy about the next time he'll see you, what you'll do next and how it'll make him happier than he's ever been.

You leave him in a daze, one where no one can shake him out of unless you’ve somehow left his sight. He’s only shaken out of his trance when you turn the corner around a cabin, fetching for the winning teams' medals. Connie ruffles his bun, tangling his fingers in Eren's sweaty locks as Sasha repeatedly nudges her shoulder in ‘congratulations’. Though he's not focused on any of that, he's wondering when you'll turn the corner again and flash him another smile. He's prepared this time, nerves building and diminishing in waves at the thought of you returning to his side. He promises he will never let you leave his side again, no matter how terrible he is at keeping it.

You'd do everything in your power to protect him too, it’s why you plan to spend as much time with him as you can, why you agreed to participate in Marceign's scholarship program. Surely you could aid Eren with your earnings, maybe even discover Reiners point of view. All you're sure about is that you can't let anyone worry, what excuse do you have to defend yourself there? You haven't planned that far ahead, but it needs to be thought of by tonight. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back and fix this hell that's been caused.

"Hey! I need someone to lift this driftwood with me, mind helping me out for a sec?" You call out, wrestling with the corner of a dampened log blocking the awards. As another counselor walks over, he's quick to meet your eyes, light brown and chilling. His hair tousles against the evening breeze and the bits of fog drifting through. It makes it hard to tell what exactly he looks like. His hair is ginger you conclude, or maybe A brownish-blond?

He shines his pearly white teeth in your direction and approaches you on the ground suspiciously like he's too cautious of his surroundings, shoulders twisted, head tilted upwards, something had to have been uncomfortable or injured if he were walking that strangely you assumed.

"I'd be happy to help," he says, crouching to your left side. Your name comes out of his mouth and you're already feeling as alarmed as him, like his pulse shot from his body to yours as soon as you feel his right-hand brush down your arm, enough to make it tingle. you don't think anything of it, because you're much more concerned with the way he's already dead set on your facial complexion. You breathily sigh a laugh as your fingers grip around the stray log. "This isn't going to lift itself!", almost sarcastically you remind, waiting for his assistance and eventually it comes. You both place the log on the opposite side of the pathway and the medals come into full view, handcrafted with shiny plastic and shedding ribbon. Beginning to assist yourself up, you place your hands on your knees to provide extra balance.

However, You're held down, thinking something must've caught onto your pants until you direct your head over to the problem. There's an entire hand holding you down by your waist. The boy's fingers grip the hook of your pocket but his smile never leaves his face. Neither of you loses contact as you try to release from his grip but he doesn't budge. His smile forces through his jaw as yours disappears, teeth clenching closed while yours falter and at this point, the waistline of your shorts is beginning to rip.

He forms a pout with his lips, eyes squinting in satisfaction as his other hand finds your opposite wrist. "Don't I get anything in return for helping you?"

"Let go of me."

Of course, he doesn't, tightening his grip as your arm is pulled above your head and against the exterior of the cabin wall. He curves his fingers against a wooden shingle, refraining you from pushing him off.

"You're too weak, sweetheart. Can't even lift a log up off the ground and you think you can stand up to me all by yourself?"

"Floch I said let go."

"Im helping you and you're helping me." he crawls his way between your legs, having you straddled against the wall by force, and it doesn't take long for his obsession to mutate over to your neck, tracing his lips against your jaw before targeting a prominent spot to suck on. As you try to retaliate you're halted by his cold hands, dancing from your ripped pocket to the spaghetti strap of your tank-top, pulling it down an inch until it meets your bra strap, then tugging both down altogether. He's goggling over the sight before him, loving the view of one tit spilling out from underneath your clothes. "It's that simple."

"Fuck off, I'm helping you help yourself-." but you can't speak anymore, he's already grasped your flesh in his hand, groping it like a disgusting predator tackling its prey. No words are shared after this point, only whimpers of unintentional pleasure and whispering cries for help. You're stuck between wooden panels and his teeth, letting him devour the next part of your neck he wishes to bruise.

He presses his pelvis further into yours, and you watch as he ignores your silent begs for help. Floch had always been this way, strange in the mind to the point all his actions became questioned by the staff. He'd stare at the girls longer than usual but never meet their eyes, only directing his gaze below their necks where the real prize was waiting for him to discover. Some days he’d perch his phone against an open window, awaiting the sounds of female voices and giggles. What he'd later do with that audio was unknown, though he was never put to a stop even after counselors found out about his schemes. Floch somehow managed to always get off with a warning, never any serious consequence that scared him enough to never try again. Today, it seemed he hadn't heard the sound of female cries in a long time, which is why his dagger targeted you in a bullseye of females. Perhaps he wasn't fond of the idea of you belonging to someone else, someone he despised from the very beginning because of his morals, how passionate this other person had been. Maybe he was glad to see this other person’s downfall and wanted to use this boy’s growth as an advantage to get to you.

Whatever the case, it worked in his favor.

His moans are terrifying when his fingers find your panty line, rubbing up and down the seam like the binding of a present waiting for him to open. It's undeniably frightening and all you can do is sit there, legs wide open, shirt half off and helpless while black tears drip down your face from running mascara. You tried so hard to curl them for Eren's liking, hoping he'd compliment on how put together you tried to be for him today. Now the ginger with hollowed features compliments your state of pain out of his enjoyment. He’s enjoying this, ruining an optimistic little girl by a male creature.

He was destroying you, and you were letting him against your own will.

Through Connie and Sasha's cheers of congrats, Eren could still hear a little voice in the back of his head, a sound telling him to focus on the present situation, its call that could not be ignored. Was it a desire? an instinct? a gut feeling now making him feel very off. This voice inside his head was light however, its pitch made him relaxed, feel calm, almost blissful from its sensual melody that flowed through his eardrums. So he swallowed a few times to get it out of his head, thinking it was helping his attention on the conversation at hand. But it isn’t leaving. It was ever so hushed but it was still there, and when he turned his head it grew in volume by the smallest amplitude, that's when he realized there was nothing stuck inside his head. There was a real voice making him feel this way, and he almost felt guilty as he ushered through the small crowds of campers, labeling apologies to all he bumped into, but especially he apologized to the voice ringing in his head, upset that he could not get to it in time. It was familiar and that was a fact, almost too known that he could attach a name to it if he wanted. When he approached the last cabin before another acre of woods, he proved his theory correct, even though every muscle in his body never wished to stumble upon such disaster. Unfortunately, he was more present than one could ever be, locked between two pairs of eyes both widened for the exact opposite purposes. You wanted to be found, to be helped by anyone who stumbled along the rocky path, and at this point, you'd discovered why Floch had picked you of all people. He knew Eren would chase after you, the poor boy wouldn't let you go, so in a state where he’d eventually received praise, where he became so rarely occupied in a situation disregarding you, Floch would take you in, making the boy miserable all over again.

"Sluts been teasing us all for years, I was just brave enough to take her offer ya know?." he lustfully suppresses a laugh.

Floch truly loved to see people suffer, he was a masochist deep down and it revolted Eren's heart.

As Eren sees another manhandling you in a way you never deserved, he's taken aback. He can barely understand what the other boy is demanding, although it sounded like a sarcastic welcoming if Eren wanted to join.

Eren's muscles retract when he tells them to move, but his brain isn't functioning. “GO” he pleads to himself, though a part of him keeps his eyes on Floch's movements, on the hand that holds the flesh of your chest while the other is long lost inside your pants. For a second Eren feels your minds collide, wondering how a person could be so heartless to do such a thing. It expresses a steady step from him in your direction, and you begin squirming again to alert whatever daze he's found himself in to stop, refocus. The look on your face is terrifying, this he knows, but he's purposely blurred his vision to not see it. He doesn’t want to see how you looked, in this state especially. He blocked you out of his life for years, he could carry through with it once more as he contemplated what to do.

Should he break all the boy's bones and watch him suffer? or should he kill him quick?

Either option is very new to Eren’s physical vocabulary, though he doesn't care about the outcome, he cares that you'll benefit from Floch's discipline. And so with a wise decision, Erens knuckles his fist white, and aims for the gingers face that's still contorting in pleasure from your sounds, knocking him out clean.

Your stomach finally relaxes from its abused high, clinging to the only figure it possibly can. You can't think of Eren’s state or how he feels, and so selfishly you crawl over your partially discarded clothes, snatching the knelt boy in your grasp who greets you with open arms.

Your chest is almost bare to him against the thinness of his shirt, breath heavy, uneven, and god you're embarrassed to even look at him. You don't want to close your eyes either in fear of replaying this entire experience all over again, so you keep your gaze towards the medals long forgotten on the ground. Eren doesn’t want to rub your back, stroke your worries away about a situation so traumatizing, so he hugs your form tight, pressing his lips against your trembling forehead. He attempts to pull your clothes back on from the position you two are in, and he realizes how long it's been since he last held you like this, you cried just like you were now. Why is it when you finally received a moment to yourselves it always had to be in a situation where you were harmed?

No matter the reason, perhaps it'd be best if he told a director about this event first. He was already in enough trouble as it is, If this story spread to the children their mouths would never close. But does he really need to keep this on the down-low? Events like this should be argued over, fought against and here he was the only witness to see. Forget every other problem in his head, you were a priority and that deserved to be spoken on. Eren broke his own promise to himself and suffered consequences he didn't even know were possible, so from now on you would truly fall above all, you weren't leaving his sight.

Fuck promises, this was an oath.

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Eren wonders why you don't want to see him, concentrating so vigorously on putting himself into a situation he’s never related to. The poor boy had been through some rough, damaging times, and it’s quite often he can empathize with others’ feelings, but nothing compares to the pain inflicted on those who bystand. Watching someone they care so deeply for have to tolerate another’s unconsented desires was gut-wrenching, And through the walls, he could do nothing but listen to your insides twisting for relief.

You did want to see him, more than anything. In fact, you were craving him and it was terrifying, this unfamiliar feeling clashed against your well-being. The passion to be touched again, not by the red-headed, alleged offender, but by a brunette with sparkling eyes, whom you trusted with every fiber of your being. You wanted him and disgustingly, you knew your body was speaking for your mind, craving such affection after denying it. Why was this arousal occurring in the aftermath of such a trauma? You tense your fingertips, attempting to halt their rubbing along your waistline and imagine Eren’s hands in their position, aiding this pressure that kept building in your core. Or was it your stomach? Whatever the case, what little authority you had over yourself had detected the sensation, hunching you over the toilet seat once again to empty the ill-suited feelings from Floch that remained.

You ponder if Eren even feels any similar to you, second-guessing all your current interactions with every wipe across the corners of your mouth. Have the small moments you've shared in these last few weeks built enough assurance with him? Meeting each other’s eyes when a camper needed assistance, brushing shoulders, knuckles, or shoes underneath tables to call to one’s attention. Suddenly you wanted him on you, in your grasp. The moments you’ve shared might have very well been thought of intimately only to you. Those seconds of contact were distant, and you weren't sure Eren could handle such a frisky request. God, you were planning to ask him, weren’t you? Using him for your pleasure that you know you didn’t need. How utterly revolting were you for thinking such a thing.

Your belly punches at the walls of your still, exhausted figure, rapidly cracking at the emotion-caging exterior that's taken so long to build up. It feels worse than usual because this discomfort is so painfully recognizable. Your abdomen burns, familiarity creeping up the sides of your body too warm for relief like the untamed flames which demolished the old church. Such a sign of peace so similar to your innocence, both now too far gone for anyone to notice their begging, their desire to be fixed.

Picturing lighthearted games of hide and seek, and tag played in the years prior alongside children whose smiles complimented the radiance of your own. You’d run in the tall grass and muddy branches which supported the marsh just yards away, and swerve between the trunks of trees that swayed against summer's humid breezes. Eventually, you’d find openings in the grasslands once your bodies became too worn out to carry, and gaze at the unattractively gorgeous house of worship. Complemented with wooden walls abandoned in rustic glory, creaky floorboards with holes and ridges so easy for small bodies to play in. Everything was so enjoyable in the past, comfortable and exciting.

It damaged you to see the walls darkening to coal, a womanly figure statued at the dome of the building, morphing into a fine dust. Fumes and smoke rose to the sky, accompanying Marcel’s final goodbye, whose eyes filled with nothing but content fear, accepting the death he was about to receive. Just the thought could make one’s insides churn, and that’s exactly what yours had done again in the present time, bending you forward over the toilet seat once more. What happened after your last gaze with the young boy becomes a blur, fading throughout the day and reappearing through curses and screams as you sleep. It was equally as frightening as the man who stands behind you, beading his glistening sweat that runs from the stray strands of his hairline to his cheek.

"Shit, Eren, how did you get in here? I didn't want to see you just yet-"

"-Crawled in through the open window. I know that's weird, and… I'm sorry, we don't have to speak to eachother, but… I can't leave you alone anymore." He fumbles every few words, cautious of how you may react.

He bends to the ground a few inches away, reassuring you of your personal space as he uncomfortably folds his legs atop wooden floorboards. But as he shifts his weight closer, a bravery behind your words is unexpectedly spoken.

"Please- be careful, don’t touch me."

And so, he listens.

A travel-size ice pack makes its way out from the depths of his pocket, followed by a few intentional coughs to lighten the mood.

"I brought you this, that bruise on your arm… looks pretty bad."

He moves like a hunter meeting face to face with a frightened animal, slowly pressing the ice to your wrist, having the only contact to your skin be that of the pack. If so much as a hair on his arm we're to meet yours he'd freak out, but you’re much rather focused on the way he approaches you than to notice his worrying over a small, possible touch. It's inevitable for you to wince, so he lifts the ice and waits for the pain to subside before arranging the cold back onto your skin.

He watches your nondominant hand, flexing, and clenching, as it begins to crawl from the floor to his knee, a sign of solace he supposed? It follows up his thigh, and he's confused as to why this feels unordinary, sensual almost. The only response he attempts is to make eye contact, but you’re refusing yourself to do so and he senses something has triggered you to move this way. His eyes would further drown you into this feeling you hated, this want for the attention you were craving, so you squeeze his leg once, then twice, because you need to be doing something to get your mind off of this afternoon, however, it seemed you were embracing it.

His fingers slip off the ice, letting it tumble to the floor as his fingers grip around your wrist and tug your hand off of him, gently raising your arm in the air. You still hadn't met his gaze, and he figured that acted as an apology for your actions, but by not meeting his eyes do you miss his frowning complexion. Something was seriously wrong, past what he knew. Floch had surged a new trauma inside of you that needed validation through touch. Leaving Eren with the complicated job of training you to ignore those desires. He'd respect your words over anything, but if you didn’t want to be touched that would go both ways, for your own good.

You release your hand from his gentle grasp, digging your heels into the floor to scooch yourself against the sink’s cabinet. The two of you sit in silence, making the situation even more intolerable when you manage to ask the one brewing question that’s flooded your mind. Something you desperately need to be answered before your departure tonight.

"Ren."

He swings his view from the opened window to your desperate eyes, still believing your frisky behavior hadn’t faded away, at least until the words released from your mouth match the emotion behind your complexion.

"Tell me what happened after I became unconscious that day."

He really, really doesn't want to tell you, honestly, he can't remember much of the chilling event either. It happened so long ago, the only evident parts of the memory were the times he saw you in pain, suffering to stay alive. He despised himself for never making another happy moment with you, but musters up the resolution, and begins:

"I don't know how the fire started, but Reiner was getting on my nerves way too much… Kept telling lies about me, over a game of hiding and seek, can you believe that?" He stiffens his shoulders in grief, clenching the front of his teeth in riddance. You nod carefully at him, reminding him of how far in the past it had been, how irrelevant that part of the situation was now. He didn't need to stay so opinionated and strained, Eren could relax in front of you, tell any perspective of the story he wanted. Hell, he could lie and yet you'd still embrace him with all the trust you had to give. Even when he ignored you for years you never let go, you always held onto his word.

Now as it was his turn to protect yours, he felt he was doing a terrible job at it.

"I started to push him around, I couldn't control myself, but I swear I didn't want to leave any marks, at least until he left one first. So we started fighting and I didn't even realize the smoke around us ‘til we couldn't see. Smoke stained our eyes, clogged our throats and I couldn't take another breath, couldn't even find Reiner’s face inches away from mine. I got onto my hands and knees to help him up, but he pushed me away. I fell onto a burnt floorboard, the force left a scratch along my side, and when I turned around he was already headed towards marcel.” You could still wince at the fading scars rested upon his right shoulder, slightly irritated under his recovering skin before he clears his throat.

"I thought, How could someone favor another so much? Reiner left me in literal ashes for Marcel just like that, granted his leg was stuck between burning beams, I think anyone with human decency would've left me for their friend in danger. But I felt so betrayed, like the friendship we’d established meant nothing to him. I’d never felt so alone, it was worse than when I-."

He hesitated, swallowing a croak in his throat to begin a new sentence. "...I lost my mother."

"I know, Eren… I can't tell you how sorry I am."

He looked at you, eyes equally bewildered as they were relieved. He thanks whoever had shared the news, for he couldn't go through a thousandth sleepless night retelling yet another loss in his life.

"I was closest to the exit of the church so, I figured finding you was the only thing I had left going for me. When I saw you lying there, covered in blood…” He hesitates. “I don't know what happened inside of me but I just broke down, I couldn’t leave you there. I picked you up and it was around that time you passed out.” You can only imagine how comforting it must’ve felt to lay against his chest, apart from the ash that stained his clothes and the carbon monoxide which infiltrated your lungs.

“I thought I could get to Marcel and Reiner after I’d gotten you to safety, but the whole building was already in shambles. I don't blame him for trying to save his best friend, but the fact he left me in there. The last thing he ever did to me was push me away, It hurt, more than anything. He tried to save someone by getting rid of the other, but in the end, they both suffered the same fate."

Those last words of his lift your head from between your scrunched knees. There's no way you heard him right, thinking Marcel and Reiner both died. You had just seen the blond just weeks ago, generously giving you his time and attention.

"Eren, Reiner isn’t-"

Don't do it, don't put him through more pain than he's already tolerated. He tilts his head in question, politely urging you to continue but you decline, shaking your head. The more information from his perspective you can collect, the better chance you’d have at fixing this problem.

"Once I brought you to the infirmary, I came rushing back to find them. The building collapsed, smoke was still rising everywhere and I felt like the guiltiest child on earth for not getting to them in time. I searched through the rubble for hours, looking for any signs of life but... they're bodies must have been burned to dust. All I found were some small cigarette tabs, the boys loved to whip one out when no counselors were watching.” He released a faint chuckle, optimizing the situation to contain the tears stinging behind his eyelids. “As I picked one up, I heard sirens-"

"...and the police thought it was you."

He nods, putting his head back between his knees. The soreness in his chest was overwhelming, and you didn't wanna push him anymore, it tore your heart apart to see him open up so forcefully. Remind yourself that you need this information, it's crucial to proving him innocent of this accident.

"W-What happened next?" you squeak, folding your knees and sitting atop of them to seem better interested, though your heart tears at the sight of his fear.

"I ran away, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to get caught and-" His eyes follow up to yours, sighing in relief as if the memory had occurred all over again.

"I had to make sure you were okay."

You can feel your heart sing throughout your body, melting at his instinct to protect you. Slowly, you crawl one step, gently resting your hands on either side of him. You weren't touching, because who knows what would play out if you did, but he feels how condolence pours out with every breath of your body so naturally. He can't help but smile.

"Thank you, Eren. I won't let your story go in vain."

Eren isn't exactly sure what you mean by those words, he doesn't understand that you're physically making the effort to find a solution, for everyone to forget this disaster. So he brushes the thought to the back of his mind, all that matters to him is that you are safe and content with being protected by him. He opens his palm from it’s grasp on his leg and lays it face up in front of you. It speaks for the closed heart ticking in his chest, and when you take your first approach at contact, gliding your muscles over his palm he gently intertwines your fingers. He tugs at your arm, requesting you follow him as you sturdy yourself from the floor. Eren follows behind, aware you might topple over from dizziness any second, but when you reach your mattress and slowly tuck yourself in, he exhales in ease.

"We'll take baby steps together, okay? But first I think you should get some rest." he hums, finally matching the eyes he's been wanting to meet for hours. Your softening eyes wanted to agree, but baby steps were for the problems you had an infinite amount of time to solve. In Eren’s case, whether he was aware of it or not, was set on a ticking time bomb, he'd get nowhere without something or someone to sacrifice. Knowing this, you accepted camp Marceign’s scholarship, conscious that the destruction caused would support your devoted reasons of return.

"Falcoooooo! Kick the ball, you dummy!" Gabi calls once again to the young boy, though his ears had already burst from the proximity of her voice. He stands at the home base of the small, dirt diamond, twisting his shoe nervously into the grainy ground. Gabi pounces behind him, jumping with more excitement than ever fueled up her ass. If anyone were to be labeled competitive, her name had instantly taken the title of it.

Jean stands at the pitcher’s square, center of the field, accompanied by Connie and Sasha at his shoulders of the bases while Mikasa protects the outer sides. Armin, of course, is left to defend as well, shaking anxiously on her opposing end.

"Gabi, can't you go? I'm not good at these kinds of things!"

She shrivels and confidently huffs in his direction. "Don't doubt yourself, I believe in you, Falco!!" Her words flow most assuredly from her lips, sending his ego into skyrocket as he shifts his appearance. This new stance embodies that of the most incredible player to be drafted on a team, even sending Jean into a curious mumble of incoherent words. The counselor rolls the ball, a bit unevenly to stir the child, but it's bumps along the path don't bother him one bit. He prepares a step back before charging forward at the closening object and kicks so hard his force drives him to the ground, leaving the ball to go flying.

Soaring into the sky, Falco tilts his head up from the ground to meet Jean’s, who’s mouth had contorted into one of utter shock. The ball elevates past the few children already present at the surrounding bases, and so quickly does it fly above the offense, they catch it with their eyes for nearly half a second before it dissipates into the rush of pine trees. Gabi can't believe it, Falco most certainly wouldn't believe it, if he hadn't partially knocked himself out of consciousness. And the remaining kids cheer for their team, now in the lead past their counselors. Gabi draws her hand to her mouth, cupping it in an ecstatic bewilderment before searching for your eyes on the edge of the field.

"A homerun! Look! We scored a homerun!”

She laughs with pureness, words slipping from her mouth before she’d gotten the chance to control it. When she finds you, her mind inferences at the bags circling under your eyes, did you not sleep? Or perhaps you’d just woken up. Babysitting all these kids must've made you exhausted by now, yet the mascara stained across your upper cheeks beg to differ. You looked pained, worn out, and Gabi falls into this semi-panic mode, squinting a better look through the sun’s intensity. When she notices your frown, her heart breaks. You're unnatural through your torn smile, and that look alone stretched the one rule Gabi vowed to never break as long as she were in someone’s presence. You were visibly hiding whatever feelings you contained, and now the young girl felt the pain of curiosity, even self-guilt stirring inside at the thought that she couldn’t make you smile again.

She wanted to talk with you, believe her on that, yet in approaching your gloomy state Falco had taken a hold of her wrist, tugging it once before she turns to face him. His eyes are bright, unaware of your feelings and it entrances her against her will. He always willed to go after any situation in which he thinks someone wasn’t alright, though he had to find the problem first. The game of kickball had believed to be the only thing present in his thoughts, so he hadn’t noticed your state and Gabi didn’t choose to inform him. She didn’t want to risk losing his big, goofy smile from a moment well achieved. Even the child knew people would like her better if she offered comfort, not solutons all the time. Perhaps she could try consoling you the way Falco did sometime, the way he did to everyone.

"Let's hurry!" Falco says. He holds her sleeve, stretching the fabric in the direction of the lost ball, and for once she doesn't take the lead. She doesn't run past him, laughing as he catches along panting, or doesn't clamp her toes on the heel of his shoes so he trips. Gabi gently wraps her fingers around his wrist and lets him lead her away from the pain in your eyes. There’s a thing or two to learn from her best friend, something everyone should’ve acquired from him a long time ago. But she swallows the feeling, using that reasoning to excuse herself from how terrible you must feel.

Gabi didn't always wish to be the loudest, or take charge of all the immature campers who waited for her command. It was nice to let someone tell her what to do, what solutions to give. She wishes she had the courage to tell you that it would all be okay in the end.

Eren wishes so too.

He's got his shoulder pressed parallel to yours, only an inch of space between you and him without directly touching. He watches you like you’re the only being capable of catching his attention, because you are, you always are. Right now he begs himself to focus on the game, not the well-being of his favorite girl, it’d come off as annoying right? He knows you're capable of taking care of yourself if you weren't in such a state that ripped at his heart. He wants you to enjoy the life he's been trying to fix, for he’ll never forgive himself for ruining the past you’ve shared. You keep fidgeting with your zip up, interlacing your fingers in and around the zipper. So out of tune, he thinks, lost in the millions of thoughts going through your head. Were you thinking about this afternoon? About the frantic childhood he retold to you? Whatever the case, it holds your emotions in a cage, restraining you from speaking your mind to anyone. if there were a way for him to transfer the pain you received onto himself, he’d do so in a heartbeat. One that didn’t echo through his soul. You looked as heavy emoted as the clouds collecting water in the sky. Would you hold the rain in, or let it all pour out?

He follows your body as it jerks forward on instinct, beginning to trail after the pair of children chasing the missing ball ahead. Eren links his hand around your arm, gently tugging you back near his side.

"Please."

You’re only following the children within your campgrounds, you'd be with others, not by yourself and vulnerable. If anything you wanted to get Floch off your mind, so quit meeting Eren's eyes. You don't think you'd be able to resist his somber begging again. There was this affection you still wanted from him, and part of you couldn't handle it because you knew how easily you’d mesmerize yourself in his touch. He was making you want to share those feelings, it's what he'd been doing for the past four hours now. He was unaware and it was leading him onto the wrong track. Erens aura, his natural epitome was so welcoming, deserving of all the love he gave out, You knew you could never worry near him, but now you feared you had been pried open by a predator. You were scaring him, with how often you ran off, planning to make his life better only to have it crumble in your hands. The actions you've involved yourself in have slowly torn him apart. You loved him when you were young, and you continued to love him now. But you didn't even think about his feelings, only fretting over the bigger picture when there were pieces of him crackling for every excuse you made to get away. Once more, you'd have to do the same, so you mentally apologize, hoping his heaven of a mind will be able to telepathically understand:

This will be the last time Eren. Please hold on just a little longer.

A surge of thunder roars from miles away, followed by flurries of rain beginning to mist from the sky. A few counselors find themselves joyfully running for cover, and Eren wastes no time removing the crewneck from his body, showcasing a slight peak of his toned stomach before his shirt falls back down. How ironic that likes to hide it, surely anyone would fall to their knees at the sight of him. He lifts his arms over your body, sheltering you from the droplets ordered to ruin your mood even further. He made you feel so special.

You find a porch under another group's cabin, and sit beneath the top step of their wooden stairs. He removes the jacket, leaving you mostly dry, besides the drops that flew with the wind, sliding on the very tops of your faces.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel, somewhat better."

"Yeah? I'm glad. I hope you can come talk to me about anything that's on your mind from now on."

"I will, Ren."

You hate lying to him.

You appreciate that he’s taking your mind off it, not jumping back down into the mess a singular monster of a person put you through.

In gratitude, you place your hand on his head, so slowly, because you know you made a promise not to let yourself wander for your good, but he just looks like he needs some source of validation. Something was weighing him down and it was most likely because of you. You interfered with almost every traumatic disaster he experienced, one little gesture couldn’t even compare to how greatly you cared, but it would do for now.

Delicately your fingers start to scratch the damp hairs from the base of his neck, slowly tracing up and down. It wasn't quick and sharp, enough to make him giggle in a ticklish fit like how he used to, and it wasn't hard and pinched, similar to the days when your jealousy of his handsome little face surged through. It was that special gesture you’d rarely done, the one he cherished the most, out of congratulations for doing something well, or making you smile just a little bigger. Your silent, reserved way of saying 'A round of applause for you! You saved my life yet again and i’ll never know how to repay you for it.'

Eren tenses his head, trying to remain focused on the grouping of plants before him when he feels your fingers wrap around the strands of his baby hair. He remebers the feeling more than anything, because when was the last time you had done that? Almost a decade ago, and he reminisces while experiencing the new sensation all at the same time.

You see him closing his eyes, letting out the faintest of chuckles at this moment before he finds your gaze with his own. You're smiling, and it looks so much more natural than before, not a facade to shield your pain from the traumas you’ve endured, but a soft, goddess-like look of undivided happiness. He reaches to his neck and ever so gently brushes his fingertips over yours. Seeing you unphased leads him to intertwine his fingers, brining your joined hands into his lap.

"What do you say we plan something nice for our cabin? We could do something by the water like a picnic… As a victory for their win, I mean." He intakes a bit of his lip, biting down in impatience for your response. You bring a half-sided smirk to your lips, eyes narrowing in curiosity. "You're making it sound more like a date."

"Only if that’s what you wish for it to be."

You continue to stare, wondering how he learned to make every situation so positive despite the building tension behind every day. He fought through every obstacle just to tug a smile onto your lips, to let you rest from the pressure you upheld.

He spoke like rain, softly and unexpected, but when most needed. It was a break from the brightness of the sky, who pretended it was okay despite the terrible things it'd been put through. Rain was the light’s shoulder to lean on, its wiser, compassionate half that let it relax, only for it to shine brighter tomorrow. And although the rain appeared gloomy and miserable, perhaps that was only a cover, a halt in happiness when the sun grew too tired of the pressure put on it. The rain and it’s storms were beneficial, completing the sun's glorious reign of responsibility.

Eren was your rain, your cover for when life fell into a drought of emotions, and throughout your doubts he would spend every second of his life proving how brightly you shone to him.

You were his sun afterall, he'd sacrifice anything to keep you glowing.

He takes the tip of his index finger, tracing a strand that had come forth from your temple, and tucks it behind your ear, drawing a sensitive pattern down your jawline.

He likes having you this close, noses just an inch away to the point the tips are grazing each other. His palm settles down the apple of your cheek, and you hold in a breath. His fingers could stay knitted deep into your strands every hour of every day if they were given the chance to, when your hair is all set and pretty, or dampened from agony as it is now. He longingly glimpses the wondrous sight of you one last time, just before he molds his lips onto your own.

But in that split second where his maturity dissipates, and his lust takes over, he halts. Eren knew better than to take advantage of you, and he just could’t cross any more fatal lines.

Your eyes had already shut, lips puckering, waiting for this moment as you had been for nearly ten years, but he retracts his face from yours, showcasing the most heartbreaking frown you'd ever seen. He knows he wants to kiss you, he wants you every second of every day. And the fact you didn't resist spoke clearer than the crystal droplets falling from the sky. Just hours ago you had been petrified to even be in the same airspace. Steps were being taken, and to him they were being taken too quickly. He was scared for the result of another mistake. Not the action of loving you, never, but the consequences you might suffer when he solves his deepening ditch of traumatizing guilt.

You don't even bother opening your eyes, interpreting how the unfamiliarity of the crisp air brushes along your lips. Instead, you retract your head, tilting it over to the homemade item of jewelry a blond had adorned on your wrist over a month ago. A bracelet beaded with your initials, assorted next to dozens of bright, cheery colors. Maybe your time for true happiness didn't quite match the fizzling intensity your heart had been so impatient for, and as you stared deeper at the creation, you realized just how absentminded you'd been to every situation around you.

"Eren, I need to go find the kids."

"Fuck, It's been at least an hour. We gotta find them immediately." However, you keep hold of the hand he interwove with a long time ago, settling his frame back down on the porch steps as you make your way to your feet.

"You aren't going anywhere Eren. They could be playing a trick on us for all we know. What I do know is that they'll never come out of hiding once they find out you're searching for them. Falco is still really shy around you, im sure he's too scared to even look you in the eye." You showcase a final smile at him, resting your hand over his shoulder. "Let me look for them, i’m staying within campgrounds, I'll be back real soon."

"You're going to leave me again."

The way of his words makes your heart sink into your stomach. Lying to the boy whose hands held you in every memory of destruction, whose eyes caressed your mind and soul. Here you were convincing him of how uneeded he was, instead of confessing that you were fighting to save his abused reputation.

Eren knows you're lying too. He wants to believe you'll come back with both kids embraced in your arms, but at the same time, he wants to prove his instinct right. He wants to see what you'll do, where you'll go, and expect the unexpected. He keeps his trust in you, no matter how much he hated doing so. He was fully aware you were up to something that would benefit the general well-being of Pinehurst, he just didn’t estimate the extent of your determination. You were always like that, willing to make everything right with the world and he hated you for it, because it would never end well. Someone always had to suffer for another to benefit. Eren's selfishness was too constructed, built up with beams of distress that he didn't want to knock down after just building them up again. It wasn't the right time to confront you about your motives, especially with what you had experienced these past few week, so he lets you go.

And he knows he's breaking his promises all over again, he's beating himself up over it and his heart suffers the pain of not keeping you safe by his side. His mind is vulnerable, he doesn't want to fight this alone, doesn't want to battle out his troubles in which he wasn't even guilty of committing. This was his one chance to get the help he needs.

Unfortunately, he wanted that help from anyone but you.

Eren watches you sprint off, darting between the branches that close out the unknown wilderness. You slow your pace in the slightest, assuring he hadn’t followed your trail before leaping over a stray log, disappearing into the muggy haze.

He’s praying he won’t regret this.

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