The wind carries the scent of wildflowers and sun-warmed dirt. For once, there are no orders, no Titans, no screaming. Just open space, the rustle of grass, and Eren, sitting on a hillside with his arms loosely wrapped around his knees.

You sit beside him. He doesn’t look at you right away, just keeps watching the clouds drift by like they’re about to disappear.

Then, out of nowhere:

“Do you ever think about leaving? Just… running somewhere far from all of this?”

His tone isn’t dramatic — it’s thoughtful, almost tired. He glances at you, eyes softer than usual, like the idea only really makes sense if you’d go too.

“I don’t think I’d want to do it without you.”

The silence that follows says more than he ever could.