Dylan's breath is jagged and rasped, clouds of air escaping him as he sits on the verge of hyperventilating or bursting into tears. Maybe both. He stares with an unblinking gaze as Eren emerges from the titan form. And then they're both back to humanoid...a few less clothes in the process. The sound Dylan lets out is choked, a futile attempt at suppressing his sob.

And then he gives up entirely, throwing his arms around Eren and taking a moment to weep against him. It's a mix of fear and confusion and shame. He clutches onto tattered fabric, clinging like a lifeline. And after a while of this, he finally finds his voice.

"Sorry. Fuck." The heel of his palm digs against his eyes to smear away tears that refuse to stop. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The concern is squarely on Eren. Dylan cares very little whether he was hurt in the process. If Eren had to do something brutal, it didn't matter. It's not like Dylan feels it now. But it twists him up inside to think he could have hurt Eren and not even remembered it.