[ The thought clearly doesn't comfort him like it does Eren, and he wonders if he hadn't just made things worse. Because he'd rather die in the world he belongs in than end up buried in the dirt, dug up by friends and burned until they were nothing but bones in a casket.
His lips quirk, just barely. No. No, that really wasn't comforting at all.
Rather than watching the stars, he keeps his eyes on Jean, an impending sense of dread as he waits for him to speak. Because he will say something, and it'll cut deep, because he's good at that now. He's a loudmouth who can't filter his thoughts and when the question hits the air Eren winces. ]
Jean.
[ They were both slipping. Even he could see that. It's too much because of their proximity, that they've forgotten to be awkward despite how they're touching and now they're blurting out their thoughts, fears, hopes— the fact that they're both feeling and thinking too much.
So he trails his hands up, threading his fingers into the other boy's hair. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry, before he pulls Jean up so they're both sitting up, tilting his head forward. No more staring off, no more thinking about what skies the people back home were zipping through and whether or not there were Titans beneath them, whether there was a world where they didn't have to die. Thoughts that plague Eren constantly, and ones he didn't wish on anyone else.
He tilts his head up, pressing his mouth firmly against Jean's to shut him up. Or maybe to distract himself (not for long, it's his responsibility to care, but it's something). Or maybe it's purely physical. He doesn't know anymore. Whatever the case, Eren barely pulls away, voice thick and unsteady. ]
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His lips quirk, just barely. No. No, that really wasn't comforting at all.
Rather than watching the stars, he keeps his eyes on Jean, an impending sense of dread as he waits for him to speak. Because he will say something, and it'll cut deep, because he's good at that now. He's a loudmouth who can't filter his thoughts and when the question hits the air Eren winces. ]
Jean.
[ They were both slipping. Even he could see that. It's too much because of their proximity, that they've forgotten to be awkward despite how they're touching and now they're blurting out their thoughts, fears, hopes— the fact that they're both feeling and thinking too much.
So he trails his hands up, threading his fingers into the other boy's hair. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry, before he pulls Jean up so they're both sitting up, tilting his head forward. No more staring off, no more thinking about what skies the people back home were zipping through and whether or not there were Titans beneath them, whether there was a world where they didn't have to die. Thoughts that plague Eren constantly, and ones he didn't wish on anyone else.
He tilts his head up, pressing his mouth firmly against Jean's to shut him up. Or maybe to distract himself (not for long, it's his responsibility to care, but it's something). Or maybe it's purely physical. He doesn't know anymore. Whatever the case, Eren barely pulls away, voice thick and unsteady. ]
Stop.