They're technically in public, and if anybody wants to be shitty about it, Levi will feed them their own teeth in a minute, but it doesn't look like that's a concern at the moment. If anything, the locals probably think they're being awfully reserved with each other considering how emotional this whole reunion must look like from the outside. Wasn't that fuck with the cigarette crying earlier? Not important.
He does still tense up when being pulled into a hug -- it will take longer than a few months to rework his wirings -- but he doesn't try to pull away. He knows it's supposed to be comforting, but it almost makes him feel more sad instead. He'll never get this back home, he thinks. He'll never know that he'd done them proud. He can only hope he gets to stay here indefinitely, gets to keep these memories, this absolution.
With his face pretty much buried against the other man's chest now, he allows himself the luxury of a single muffled sob -- or maybe it's just a soft gasp for air now that there had been tears in his nose a moment ago -- his other hand squeezing at the back of Erwin's jacket before his breath finally evens out.
He's not sure if he imagined that soft touch against the top of his head, but it felt just like his mother wishing him goodnight. He wonders if she'd be proud of him, too -- she probably would be regardless of whether he succeeded or not, and it's a comforting thought, even though he now has confirmation that he did.
His grip gradually loosens, but he's not in a rush to pull away, allowing that embrace probably longer than Erwin expects, though he does, eventually, lean back, still somewhat reluctant to let go. Four years... four years is a long time. But he looks mostly normal by the time they come apart -- perhaps his eyes look a little redder, his brows more tightly knit together -- but there's no doubt that despite everything that has broken in and of him, he's still very much himself.
"...you should tell Hange, too," he mutters, quickly clarifying, "...Not about your knees."
That other thing. The thing where their decisions did not let their departed friends down. The thing where they carried the true Survey Corps spirit to the end, where their ultimate sacrifice had meaning not only for the survival of the world, but for the resolution of everyone's hearts, too.
"They've always been more torn up about it than I was."
no subject
Wasn't that fuck with the cigarette crying earlier? Not important.He does still tense up when being pulled into a hug -- it will take longer than a few months to rework his wirings -- but he doesn't try to pull away. He knows it's supposed to be comforting, but it almost makes him feel more sad instead. He'll never get this back home, he thinks. He'll never know that he'd done them proud. He can only hope he gets to stay here indefinitely, gets to keep these memories, this absolution.
With his face pretty much buried against the other man's chest now, he allows himself the luxury of a single muffled sob -- or maybe it's just a soft gasp for air now that there had been tears in his nose a moment ago -- his other hand squeezing at the back of Erwin's jacket before his breath finally evens out.
He's not sure if he imagined that soft touch against the top of his head, but it felt just like his mother wishing him goodnight. He wonders if she'd be proud of him, too -- she probably would be regardless of whether he succeeded or not, and it's a comforting thought, even though he now has confirmation that he did.
His grip gradually loosens, but he's not in a rush to pull away, allowing that embrace probably longer than Erwin expects, though he does, eventually, lean back, still somewhat reluctant to let go. Four years... four years is a long time. But he looks mostly normal by the time they come apart -- perhaps his eyes look a little redder, his brows more tightly knit together -- but there's no doubt that despite everything that has broken in and of him, he's still very much himself.
"...you should tell Hange, too," he mutters, quickly clarifying, "...Not about your knees."
That other thing. The thing where their decisions did not let their departed friends down. The thing where they carried the true Survey Corps spirit to the end, where their ultimate sacrifice had meaning not only for the survival of the world, but for the resolution of everyone's hearts, too.
"They've always been more torn up about it than I was."
And he's a fucking mess.