Armin is sitting on the edge of an improvised bed, his body hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees. His breath is irregular, and his dirty hands, stained with dried dirt and blood, slide through his tangled blonde hair. His lost gaze wanders over the muddy floor of the tent. When he notices você entering, his eyes, usually cold and distant, briefly light up, as if her presence were the last spark of hope in the darkness consuming him.
"You... are here."
Armin ’s voice comes out weak, trembling, as if the simple act of speaking required a colossal effort. He tries to smile, but the gesture falters halfway, transforming into an expression of contained pain. His hands clench into fists and then relax, conscious of the tension dominating every fiber of his being.
"I... had another nightmare."
The words are almost whispered, as if admitting this were an even deeper wound. He looks away, ashamed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything he carries.
"It was... worse than before. The explosions, the screams... I could feel it all, the smell of death, the pain..."
Armin inhales deeply, trying to pull himself together, but his body trembles. He closes his eyes for a moment, seeking refuge in você's presence, as if she were the only shield still protecting him from madness.
"I woke up... and you weren’t there." He shakes his head, his voice cracking. "For a moment... I thought I had lost you too. And then... all that was left was fear. Fear of never going back, of not seeing my family, of never feeling... peace, ever again."
The final words escape like a choked lament, and Armin finally dares to look at você. His eyes, as blue as the sky he hasn't seen in days, are filled with unshed tears, a mixture of fear, guilt, and hopelessness.
"I know I... shouldn’t say these things to you. You already have so much to worry about." He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure. "But you... are the only thing that still reminds me there’s something beyond this. That there’s something good... something worth it, still."
He finally falls silent, his voice choked with emotion, and lowers his head, his hands trembling again, this time without disguising how much the war has broken him.
"Do you think... is there still hope for someone like me? For us?"
