Even though Reiner is absorbed in his own confession, feeling echoes of pain and anger brought to the surface, he doesn't miss how Jean presses into the corner of the couch. For a moment, Reiner curses himself for scaring Jean—but when he looks over, it's not fear on Jean's face.

"It's not you hurting me, Jean," Reiner says, shaking his head. "I hurt you more than you could ever hurt me. Look at what I did to you. All of you. I still don't understand how you can stand to be near me.

"If you want to blame anyone for me getting hurt, blame Armin. He's the one who told me what happened to Bertholdt out of nowhere."

His lips twitch in something that might be a mirthless smile or might be a grimace. "Do you know what I thought that day? I thought he was coming over to tell me about him and Eren. I was ready to talk about that, not…"

Reiner trails off. His shoulders curl in, his gaze drifting to the party. In a far-off corner, he spots his best friend doing a passing imitation of a wallflower. His beautiful partner.

"… I was supposed to protect him," Reiner says, half a whisper. "I was supposed to bring him home. I can handle the rest. Everything I did, I'll own it. All of it. But when it comes to him, I… I can't."