( She looks up at him again when he's standing, her shoulders hiking a touch. There are still certain barriers between the people they are now and the person she knew most recently: not just the better fed, better slept look Reiner has, and not just being younger. It's all right, she thinks, but still strange. For all she has shared, it almost feels like... a peace offering she's not really sure she's navigating well, or how she wants to move forward.
The truth at her core is she doesn't want to be isolated anymore. She doesn't need to live in that pressure, confining herself to the easiest role for survival. A world of bullshit, fueled by more of the same, where everyone felt their cause was the most justifiable one for murder. )
Sure? ( What does staying in touch even mean? The phones make it easier, she guesses. Is it sending a note, "Still alive," every so often?
It's the oddity of hearing Reiner say he's missed her that gives her pause. No momentary panic, nothing like anger. Widened eyes, yes, but that's in part because she's not narrowing them in an effort to keep herself calm, steady, and seemingly unaffected.
She's always been affected. Annie just told herself to ignore it as much as she could. )
... Yeah, well. We can revisit that again in a month to see if you still feel that way.
( She'd seen him two days ago. She really can't claim the same sense of things, or explain what she does feel. The words slip away from her if she even tries to grab them.
They were the two survivors from the four who'd set out to Paradis. Somehow, through all of it, they'd made it back. They'd helped do the impossible. That means something too, if it's not quite the same as missing. )
Until later.
( She nods to him, then slips around the table and heads for the door, needing the break from everything overloading her head. Cutting through a few more trees would be wonderful for working through how she's feeling. )
no subject
The truth at her core is she doesn't want to be isolated anymore. She doesn't need to live in that pressure, confining herself to the easiest role for survival. A world of bullshit, fueled by more of the same, where everyone felt their cause was the most justifiable one for murder. )
Sure? ( What does staying in touch even mean? The phones make it easier, she guesses. Is it sending a note, "Still alive," every so often?
It's the oddity of hearing Reiner say he's missed her that gives her pause. No momentary panic, nothing like anger. Widened eyes, yes, but that's in part because she's not narrowing them in an effort to keep herself calm, steady, and seemingly unaffected.
She's always been affected. Annie just told herself to ignore it as much as she could. )
... Yeah, well. We can revisit that again in a month to see if you still feel that way.
( She'd seen him two days ago. She really can't claim the same sense of things, or explain what she does feel. The words slip away from her if she even tries to grab them.
They were the two survivors from the four who'd set out to Paradis. Somehow, through all of it, they'd made it back. They'd helped do the impossible. That means something too, if it's not quite the same as missing. )
Until later.
( She nods to him, then slips around the table and heads for the door, needing the break from everything overloading her head. Cutting through a few more trees would be wonderful for working through how she's feeling. )