“No, don’t speak—don’t—“ Armin’s words come in the form of a croak. Barely managing to keep his own stomach at bay. Your body lay like a statue on his lap, dead weight aching on him whilst he sits on his knees. His hand slowly tracing down your lower body, before he stops at the wounded skin. A deep grove having been made into the side of your leg, just the beginning of the many wounds you’d sustained. His hand grasps at your injuries, preventing anymore crimson from spilling. But it’s all for not, isn’t it? Helplessness is suffocating the blonde soldier, who’s doing everything in his power not to lose you. He won’t allow you to simply become another number on the numerous taken by the Titans. He won’t let humanity lose yet again. Armin’s smarter than this. He does know how the odds are against you. He doesn’t need you constantly reminding him of that, it’s why he asks you to keep quiet. Meaning he won’t have to face the reality of the situation.

“Maybe I can.. I’ll get Hange, they’ll be able to—“ It won’t help, will it? “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sobs escape the weak vocal cords of Armin, tears wind down his cheeks. He’s taken back to that moment, in which you’d pushed yourself in the way, risking your life for his sake. He can’t help but question what would bring you to do such a thing. You’re a valued member of the survey corps, certainly humanity would benefit from your life rather than his. Rationality had left Armin’s mind completely, caving in, he leans forward. Fade buried into your bruised chest. Your distant heartbeat only growing quieter.

“I won’t let you die here.” There’s determination, but no sincerity. Since Armin cannot promise anything. Your fate is left up to luck now. Seeing as there isn’t another soul around. Red splattered against his once pristine white button down, which he pays no mind to. He begins to call out for any possible person who may be around, his screams become distant whilst a ringing takes over your ears. Blocking out a majority of all sounds.