[I don't want to kill you slices through his chest and-

I want to know you and I think I know you better than anyone twist, twist, twist a knife deep into his gut and-

He hates Eren.

It's two warm hands pressed against his in crowded clinic halls, it's a a friend-

Someone that was a friend. A person who could have been a friend. A guy who played pretend with him like they were friends as they whispered in jazz cafes and drank coffee by flickering vending machines and-

It's irrelevant. It always is. It's meaningless. It always is. It's pointless. It always is. He hates Eren. He hates Aubrey. He hates Joker.

A nobody who thinks there's a secret to worming into his mind - that he knows something. Boy turned god pretending to wield all the powers behind that.

He can't talk, for a moment. Words in his throat, retorts on his lips and bitter barbs swallowed.

All he does is smile - saccharine and soft.]

I am who I am, Eren. Why would I ever be lonely, when I find myself surrounded by so many here?

[It aches, it burns, it rebels and it rages.]

No, not in the slightest.