The ocean is bluer than I thought, Armin. Bluer than what you had shown me in those books. I'd never thought something could look so beautiful, but, of course, it pales in comparison to your beauty. Nothing can surpass your sky blue eyes and dorky-in-an-adorable-way short hair, but I can already tell that you'd dismiss my compliments with cute modesty and that adorable blush of yours. Maybe a kiss on my cheek as we both standing against the breeze that the book describe as being tropical.
I think you'd like this brown, grainy, interesting stuff – it's called sand, right? Right. I think both you and Historia would like it. Hell, maybe even Jean would like it. It feels really soft and pleasant between the toes; it makes me actually glad that I'd taken my boots off. There's a lot of these delicate shells with intricate patterns on them. Different colors, too – and they all sparkle and glisten under the bright sun. I'm sure you'd find all of this breathtaking, Armin. Every single moment of it would leave you in awe. That's what you told me: we'll be left in awe in this scenery that seemed utterly romantic.
And honestly, I'm left in awe. Despite the fact that you weren't able to make it with me, I'm still in awe because you told me to. You told me to take in and appreciate whatever I saw for the both of us. It was a promise that I made, and it is a promise that I am fulfilling.
I don't let my tears block my vision. I can't afford to miss a single moment.
The ocean is bluer than I thought, Armin.
Full of bittersweet memories, too.