[There's nothing truly shocking about that answer. Itachi eyes study the dragon for a moment longer, then turn down into the pale color of his tea, a green like young spring. The sweetness lingers on his tongue when he takes another sweet—a bit too strong. It dilutes the natural flavor, in his mind.
They don't compare. Eren's words are certain, coaxing his attention up from the tea.]
That isn't an unusual sentiment. Most places seem widely different from Geardagas, my own world among them, and our presence here is an interruption. We had little choice in it, after all.
[And more interesting is that 'not yet'. He wonders what it applies to, whether it suggests hopes for the future—for eventually. And him?]
All I have to return to is death. [A final statement, as certain as Eren's response.] That said, it's where I belong. Not in this realm. [Except perhaps as he may be useful to Sasuke; this he doesn't admit, mind still dwelling over it restlessly himself.] Staying here isn't a permanent option I'd wish to entertain.
[ at the same time— eren doesn’t know of what to think at the possibility of staying here permanently. he was well established, elders treated him like a grandson and he’s made more relationships than he could count. what would happen when he’d begin to age the way a dragon does? he’d last for centuries in comparison to his four lasting years of life. he’d outlast every witch and every monster if his health was intact.
sometimes he doesn’t know what he’d do with all that time to spare, and as self destructive as he was, he’d find a way to cut it short. it’s something he could . . . resonate with, if not feel completely undecided and restless with it himself.
itachi is not the first he has met who has already left the living; as far as “second chances” go, he’s understanding of the completed sentiment: that’s where i belong. the dragon, when affirming the taste of tea, also thinks himself undeserving of being here and starting again. when he’s gone, he should be gone (until he finds a proper reason to keep moving). ]
It’s saying something. I never had the habit of drinking tea in the first place before these. [ it’s just. that good. eren pushes his tea cup just an inch with his fingertips, ] If you’re curious.
[ the demon of all teas was good for burning everything out of one’s system. strong and unrelenting, a charge of energy, and one eren wouldn’t mind sharing even a drop. despite that and while he waits, he muses softly: ]
. . . We’re not far off from each other.
[ in terms of only having death to return to—? what a topic to bond over. ]
[By comparison, he's had plenty of experience drinking tea prior to this. It may in fact be one of his few passions in the world—and even that one mild, muted, a private pleasure.
When Eren nudges the cup with the tips of claws, dark eyes fall to it in consideration and the slightest edge of curiosity. It's not his preference... but, to some degree, perhaps the risk can be taken. So he reaches across, hooks an index through the teacup's handle, and drags it closer. Then he lifts it to his lips.
The brief taste—just a touch across his tongue and down his throat—causes Itachi's expression to pinch. The burn is almost overpowering. Assailing the senses, yet he also feels himself come awake; his pulse ticks a bit faster, for a moment.
He slides the cup back over.]
It is... invigorating. [A grimace.] It'd serve well as a draught for longer excursions outside the city, where focus and energy are needed.
[In fact, he may see if he can purchase some for just such a need. In case he ever needs to pull any dangerous all-nighters.]
Then you understand how it feels. [His tone lowers, slightly.] The temporary nature of this. [Itachi glances over to the street, as if meaning to include all of Aefenglom in one look.] ... I appreciate the conversation, nonetheless.
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no subject
They don't compare. Eren's words are certain, coaxing his attention up from the tea.]
That isn't an unusual sentiment. Most places seem widely different from Geardagas, my own world among them, and our presence here is an interruption. We had little choice in it, after all.
[And more interesting is that 'not yet'. He wonders what it applies to, whether it suggests hopes for the future—for eventually. And him?]
All I have to return to is death. [A final statement, as certain as Eren's response.] That said, it's where I belong. Not in this realm. [Except perhaps as he may be useful to Sasuke; this he doesn't admit, mind still dwelling over it restlessly himself.] Staying here isn't a permanent option I'd wish to entertain.
[He takes another sip from the rim of the cup.]
... The tea here is surprisingly good.
no subject
sometimes he doesn’t know what he’d do with all that time to spare, and as self destructive as he was, he’d find a way to cut it short. it’s something he could . . . resonate with, if not feel completely undecided and restless with it himself.
itachi is not the first he has met who has already left the living; as far as “second chances” go, he’s understanding of the completed sentiment: that’s where i belong. the dragon, when affirming the taste of tea, also thinks himself undeserving of being here and starting again. when he’s gone, he should be gone (until he finds a proper reason to keep moving). ]
It’s saying something. I never had the habit of drinking tea in the first place before these. [ it’s just. that good. eren pushes his tea cup just an inch with his fingertips, ] If you’re curious.
[ the demon of all teas was good for burning everything out of one’s system. strong and unrelenting, a charge of energy, and one eren wouldn’t mind sharing even a drop. despite that and while he waits, he muses softly: ]
. . . We’re not far off from each other.
[ in terms of only having death to return to—? what a topic to bond over. ]
no subject
When Eren nudges the cup with the tips of claws, dark eyes fall to it in consideration and the slightest edge of curiosity. It's not his preference... but, to some degree, perhaps the risk can be taken. So he reaches across, hooks an index through the teacup's handle, and drags it closer. Then he lifts it to his lips.
The brief taste—just a touch across his tongue and down his throat—causes Itachi's expression to pinch. The burn is almost overpowering. Assailing the senses, yet he also feels himself come awake; his pulse ticks a bit faster, for a moment.
He slides the cup back over.]
It is... invigorating. [A grimace.] It'd serve well as a draught for longer excursions outside the city, where focus and energy are needed.
[In fact, he may see if he can purchase some for just such a need. In case he ever needs to pull any dangerous all-nighters.]
Then you understand how it feels. [His tone lowers, slightly.] The temporary nature of this. [Itachi glances over to the street, as if meaning to include all of Aefenglom in one look.] ... I appreciate the conversation, nonetheless.