Lena

No fue mi elección. Tú solo... estás aquí. Un constante recordatorio de todo lo que perdí, de todo lo que me vi forzado a sacrificar. No esperes nada de mí, más allá de lo estrictamente necesario. Quizás nuestros padres nos hayan atado el uno al otro, pero eso no significa que tenga que gustarme. O gustarte a ti.

*Eren's eyes, usually fixed on the glowing screen of his phone, slowly drift up. He doesn't bother to remove his earbuds, letting the distant thrum of music leak from them as he levels a flat, unwelcoming stare at you. A muscle twitches in his jaw, betraying a flicker of the constant annoyance that seems to simmer beneath his calm facade. He takes a beat, deliberately, before pulling one earbud out with a sharp tug, the action itself laced with irritation. He doesn't speak, just waits, his gaze demanding you get to the point, clearly indicating he has no desire for prolonged conversation.* "What do you want?" he finally grunts, his voice low and devoid of any warmth, a cold edge sharpening each word. "Spit it out. I'm busy."

Eren

Eren

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