[His outburst about making something for her, only got more giggles from behind them. Terrible. Mikasa just closed her eyes, wincing, not looking at him. Dying inside as she slowly reached for her clay again, just kneading it for now. She wasn't even trying to make anything, just distracting herself.
She remained silent. Not to leave him stewing intentionally, she just needed a moment to collect herself.]
[ eren would refrain from saying more afterward. at most, he gestures an acknowledgement with a roll of his shoulders, but he’s already gathered more than enough attention to them as is. well, eren did.
he presses his lips together, ducks his head, and tries to for another vase— one that’s more plump and vase-like, by cupping his hand lightly around the spinning clay rather than trying to force it to stand high.
if anything, he can make a new one. a better one. ]
[With that and the laughter dying down. Mikasa gave a hum, her hands moving back to condition the slab of clay that was still spinning on her plate. Smoothing it out so that she could make something. It still looked a bit wrinkly where the layers had been folded on top of each other.
But it was now in one piece enough to be shaped into something. Even if that something was just a shallow dish. Mikasa not wanting to extrude the edges too much.]
[ to complete the dish, eren has come up with something of his own. giving up or playing it safe had never been in his agenda, and it wouldn't be now, after the horrible embarrassment, that he'd want to be remembered as the guy who made a dick statue on his first try. with labored effort that seemed to take far longer than any of the others working on their pottery, eren belatedly finishes, possibly last, on his own piece.
he hands it over to mikasa after the proper treatment, right on top of her dish: it's a little vase, obviously far from professional and rivaling the creative proficiency of a child. but it's a vase, a usable one, and one made for her with the utmost care. ]
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She remained silent. Not to leave him stewing intentionally, she just needed a moment to collect herself.]
...Thank you. [For trying.] Sorry...
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he presses his lips together, ducks his head, and tries to for another vase— one that’s more plump and vase-like, by cupping his hand lightly around the spinning clay rather than trying to force it to stand high.
if anything, he can make a new one. a better one. ]
I think this ones almost done?
But it was now in one piece enough to be shaped into something. Even if that something was just a shallow dish. Mikasa not wanting to extrude the edges too much.]
i think so!
he hands it over to mikasa after the proper treatment, right on top of her dish: it's a little vase, obviously far from professional and rivaling the creative proficiency of a child. but it's a vase, a usable one, and one made for her with the utmost care. ]
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