[ More and more, it's impossible to really understand what's going on in Eren's mind. They've only talked about it a little, but it's still difficult to understand what it is that he experienced in the Labyrinth. A future he knows he's part of but only is aware of in bits and pieces. Tragedies. The handful who live and the rest who don't. He can't imagine what it looks like, the scale of it, its unfolding. It's like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
Eren doesn't even say anything. He comes in, sits. But something makes Levi turn back before padding fully to the kitchen.
He's seen fear before. Countless times. Just before the gnash of a titan's teeth, crushing bone. Just before his knife opens flesh. He's seen when people give in to despair, when people cling to the last final thread of hope in the face of the inevitable. The deepest, most visceral desire to cling to life.
What he sees in Eren's eyes, he's never seen before. Not in this way. It stops him cold, drops ice into his stomach.
Levi stares back, down along that thread stretched between them that feels so tenuously thin.
What can I do?
"It's not my job to provide tough love, or push him to be better. And sometimes that really is what people need. You can do that– and I'm sure that you do."
That is what he does. What he's done. With so much riding on what Eren is, there had just never been time for patience or easiness. That hasn't been true for a while here, but it feels as though the earth has turned to sand beneath his feet. Each time he tries to call back to Eren's training, to lean on the respect and regard that exists to guide him, that foundation feels to crumble a little more. Levi could continue to push. He could grow sharper, more demanding, to beat that foundation back into submission, to push.
But at this point, would pushing just push him further away?
Eren looks so young. A wide-eyed, scared child, and suddenly the memory of Kenny's retreating back appears in his mind like a ghost.
So many painful heartbeats pass. But instead of turning away, Levi quietly follows that thread back to Eren. It reels back into his chest, sharp somehow, and when he reaches him his expression is softer, aching, trying to peel away everything else. No mixed up memories, no titan shifting, no one else's thoughts or suggestions.
He sets his palm gently on the top of his head. ]
Oi...
[ The hand moves to just rest at the back instead, and leans in to wordlessly touch his forehead to Eren's crown. ]
no subject
Eren doesn't even say anything. He comes in, sits. But something makes Levi turn back before padding fully to the kitchen.
He's seen fear before. Countless times. Just before the gnash of a titan's teeth, crushing bone. Just before his knife opens flesh. He's seen when people give in to despair, when people cling to the last final thread of hope in the face of the inevitable. The deepest, most visceral desire to cling to life.
What he sees in Eren's eyes, he's never seen before. Not in this way. It stops him cold, drops ice into his stomach.
Levi stares back, down along that thread stretched between them that feels so tenuously thin.
What can I do?
"It's not my job to provide tough love, or push him to be better. And sometimes that really is what people need. You can do that– and I'm sure that you do."
That is what he does. What he's done. With so much riding on what Eren is, there had just never been time for patience or easiness. That hasn't been true for a while here, but it feels as though the earth has turned to sand beneath his feet. Each time he tries to call back to Eren's training, to lean on the respect and regard that exists to guide him, that foundation feels to crumble a little more. Levi could continue to push. He could grow sharper, more demanding, to beat that foundation back into submission, to push.
But at this point, would pushing just push him further away?
Eren looks so young. A wide-eyed, scared child, and suddenly the memory of Kenny's retreating back appears in his mind like a ghost.
So many painful heartbeats pass. But instead of turning away, Levi quietly follows that thread back to Eren. It reels back into his chest, sharp somehow, and when he reaches him his expression is softer, aching, trying to peel away everything else. No mixed up memories, no titan shifting, no one else's thoughts or suggestions.
He sets his palm gently on the top of his head. ]
Oi...
[ The hand moves to just rest at the back instead, and leans in to wordlessly touch his forehead to Eren's crown. ]