As the tiny flame danced, throwing warped shadows on the walls of the small room, Armin rubbed his eyes, which ached in exhaustion.

It had been a long few days.

The breach in the wall, Bertholdt and Reiner, rescuing Eren: it all seemed years away. Armin could hardly believe that he made it out alive.

Things were so different now. So uncertain. He had no idea what the future may hold for him. If he even had a future.

Stopping that train of thought immediately, Armin closed his eyes tightly and rested his head on his hand. He opened his eyes slowly and gazed at the candle in front of him. The majority of the wax had melted away in his late night contemplations, pooling in the circular base. The wick, not completely burned, spiraled slightly and jutted out of the teardrop of orange that crowned the ever-decreasing stalk. Armin stared at the fire, transfixed.

He wondered what had caused these terrible things to happen. What was the catalyst that brought these ugly truths to light?

The flame flickered wildly for a moment.

Armin laughed bitterly to himself. Annie. Annie was the reason everything was beginning to reveal itself. Her last attempt to save herself put all of the week's events into motion.

Had it even been a week?

Armin sighed heavily and looked away from the candle, unable to take its brightness any longer. Watching the moving shadow of his hair, his mind began to wander.

Why? Why did she have to do this? What was the great reason she had for betraying mankind?

For betraying him?

Armin recalled the look on her face as she stood at the top of those steps. She looked so defeated, so tired, so scared and torn. She was alone.

Armin glanced at the candle and felt a mixture of guilt and shame rise from the pit of his stomach. He had wanted to help her. Despite knowing what he knew, Armin wanted to help her. That was all he ever wanted to do.

But now she was gone, frozen in her crystal cage, isolated from everyone in a prison of her own construction. Armin smiled at the sad irony and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms on the desk's surface.

He had never told her he had feelings for her. He was sacred to. She didn't seem to be the kind of person who willingly talked about her emotions. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn't know; it would have made it harder to lie to her.

Armin massaged his eyes, thankful for the temporary relief from his eyestrain. For a brief moment, he thought that she might have felt something for him too, but the heart always tries to fool itself with vain hopes. It didn't matter now though, she was the enemy.

"What a tragic pair we would've made," Armin said softly.

He redirected his attention to the candle. The flame wavered violently, dangerously close to burning out.

Regarding it for a long moment, Armin stood and licked his fingers. He leaned over the candle and finally extinguished it. In the darkness of his room, he let go of a shaky breath and whispered, "I'm sorry," wishing that she could hear him somehow.

I wrote this for Aruani Week a while ago. Honestly, this one is kinda terrible; I had a bunch of other stuff going on while I wrote this and was like "Oh hey, it's done? That's good enough." But hey, whatever. IT'S ON THE INTERNET FOREVER NOW!