scwg snippet
(drabble about Nanaba self-soothing through some sensory overload. read scwg on ao3)
Deep down she goes, where it is safe. In this dim room, there is a single window with lace curtains and heavy drapes. She pulls the lace over the window, casting the world to a blurry haze, and leaves the drapes cracked just enough to see only the most vital thing: Erwin.
This room is small, and there is a large armchair strewn with blankets, so she climbs in, covering herself completely, wrapping even one around her head like a scarf in the winter. To have her body covered so thoroughly feels even safer here in this safest room. Outside of the window, Erwin looks at her with a scrutinising gaze of understanding. He knows, and she knows that he will take care of her, so deeper down she goes.
She conjures up another Erwin for this room, and a Levi, too. The armchair is in an instant large enough to accommodate them all together, one on each side. Erwin wraps an arm around her as Levi pets the top of her head and shushes her in gentle, rhythmic sounds. When she leans against Erwin, he opens his arms so that she falls to rest over his lap, a little one in need of comfort. He gives, without restraint.
Outside of the window, the world moves, but she’s not paying attention. The drapes close themselves completely. She’s shut off, shut in, isolated here in this room that is safe, in this room where she is falling deeper down.
Here, it is safe to detach from reality. It is safe to let go of the weight of her own body. Nothing exists but this room, this armchair, the two in this armchair beside her, comforting her, petting her. The umbiblical cord is cut and clipped and she is completely removed from the real world: the world where her body is. She is here instead, in the reality she creates for herself where she is safe, where it is dark and silent and full of affection.
Slowly, everything calms, and the drapes regain that sliver of the view into the world. She’s with Erwin. It’s okay. The knowledge that it is okay pushes the lace open just a little bit, too. Someone’s talking to her, but she’s not close enough to the window to answer. When her body doesn’t respond, the drapes push back a little further. Someone’s calling her name. She can see Erwin outside of the window, looking at her. She can’t look away from those eyes.
As much as she wants to remain detached from that reality, this reality is only a temporary haven. Erwin says she is a good girl for facing the world more and more without visiting this room. But it is necessary today— too many sounds and people and sensory pollution making everything the same indiscernible volume the same scratchy irritating texture the same acrid taste in her mouth because the senses are tangled extra today.
But she wants to be their good girl, so slowly, the blankets fall away. She rises from the armchair, going toward the window. Erwin is waiting patiently right beside the window, looking right into her and she can’t look away. With just those blue eyes, he guides her up and out and then she’s back in reality—!!!
The noise hits her like something thumping and wooden and wet, the light is a stinging burst of citrus in her mouth, the cool evening air makes her see a swirl of silver. But she’s back in reality. She adjusts quickly like she always does after coming out of the safest room. The safest room helps her adjust by giving her mind a reprieve while her body acclimates in the reality.
“Let’s enjoy our walk.” Erwin takes her hand and laces their fingers and it feels like deep red. His voice is warm cider on a snowy night. His hand on hers tastes like a lighthouse beacon in dense fog.
