Eren is the sun to his moon, Jean sometimes thinks. Always orbiting each other but never actually crossing. People are drawn into his orbit - people like Floch, and Mikasa. Others from other worlds too, like Aubrey. Armin is charismatic but Eren has his own energy, as flawed as it might be.
And, one day, he's read, the sun will go out. He's already lived through it once. The sun can't be contained no matter what they do - and Eren will never accept anything he thinks of as a cage.
He's trying, that much is obvious to Jean. He's trying to be content with the situation. Sooner, or later, he'll burst like a powder keg. The only question is how large an impact it will make. Will it just be a small fight, or something bigger?
Levi's words, though, offered seriously - words he's sure the Levi of the future had time to say as well - make him exhale sharply. The fingers holding the cup tighten, but he sets it down before he could even dream of doing any damage to the set.
The clink of porcelain against counter feels loud, in the quiet of the house. Jean shifts his gaze to meet Levi's, expression pained but just as determined. An expression Levi has likely seen before, in the young man resolving to kill to defend his friends.
Jean tries to find words, fails; swallows and starts again. "Thank you," is what he ends up managing to say. It feels like not enough for the grief Levi offers to shoulder the burden of. There's so much pain in Levi's future that he genuinely hopes it never comes to that here, to having to put Eren down. For everyone's sake.
no subject
And, one day, he's read, the sun will go out. He's already lived through it once. The sun can't be contained no matter what they do - and Eren will never accept anything he thinks of as a cage.
He's trying, that much is obvious to Jean. He's trying to be content with the situation. Sooner, or later, he'll burst like a powder keg. The only question is how large an impact it will make. Will it just be a small fight, or something bigger?
Levi's words, though, offered seriously - words he's sure the Levi of the future had time to say as well - make him exhale sharply. The fingers holding the cup tighten, but he sets it down before he could even dream of doing any damage to the set.
The clink of porcelain against counter feels loud, in the quiet of the house. Jean shifts his gaze to meet Levi's, expression pained but just as determined. An expression Levi has likely seen before, in the young man resolving to kill to defend his friends.
Jean tries to find words, fails; swallows and starts again. "Thank you," is what he ends up managing to say. It feels like not enough for the grief Levi offers to shoulder the burden of. There's so much pain in Levi's future that he genuinely hopes it never comes to that here, to having to put Eren down. For everyone's sake.