I went into another writing coma. This is Rivamika trash with no discernible plot, and loads of waffly fluff. Enjoy!
When your life is one long stumble through the dark, you tend to cling to every shred of light that shines upon you.
Stoic and disjointed from the world though he was (or seemed), Levi was no exception to this rule. He didn't only cling to the light in his life, he captured it; stored it in fragile glass jars in his heart, and did whatever he had to, to protect them from shattering and spilling out of him, and out of his life.
He would close his eyes and soak up moments like these. His expression was blank and grey, but his insides were alive with hue, colour strewn around his heart like a million, billion rainbows.
It was never anything great that caused him to feel this way. Levi had long since learned to savour the small things, for they were what made life worth living. The feeling of Mikasa's back against his own as they sat on the bed, immersed in separate activities. The appreciation he felt that she wasn't someone who constantly needed to be entertained, or taken care of. The knowledge that, though they'd go hours like this, not speaking to or looking at each other; she was there for him, and he for her, and he needed to do nothing more than look into her eyes to be reassured of that fact.
Levi wasn't a man of many words, and Mikasa was a woman of almost none. They were physical beings; strong and capable, who allowed their actions to speak for them. For instance, rather than say, "I need you," Levi would simply lean his head back against hers ever so gently. Rather than say, "I'm here for you," he'd stretch out his hand casually, as though he was reaching for a pencil or another book, and intertwine his fingers with hers. Rather than say "I love you," he'd greet her with hot tea and a kiss whenever she came to him (or he came to her, and though he wouldn't admit it, it more often happened that way), and hold her tight for what felt like hours; for what could have been days, years, entire ages - it was, each time, a small eternity that never seemed to last quite long enough.
At first, they had been only friends - not even that. They were merely two people who enjoyed each other's company; not necessarily because they liked it, but because they disliked it less than the company of certain others, especially those who were predisposed shenanigans and general ballyhoo. Not that they were adverse to joy at all; it was just that, Levi and Mikasa were of the same mind that happiness would be a luxury they would allow themselves if and when a time came that they weren't living as cattle, cowering in fear of the Titans and striking out against them like a flimsy saw against solid stone.
In his search to save himself the pain of feeling true joy only to have it snatched from him as it surely would be, Levi had found the greatest joy of all.
Loving her had been an accident. Like falling off a tightrope, it was easy, terrifying, and just a little exhilarating. Receiving her love in return had been like landing in a safety net mere inches from the ground. Humanity's Strongest was smitten, and Mikasa held a power over him that no God or mortal ever had. When he left the walls, she was the air he breathed, the blood in his veins, and the voice in his ear, reminding him over and over again to return safe and sound; back to this place that had only felt like home ever since she loved him.
There was nothing very special about this afternoon. Even the weather was so ordinary that the greatest of smalltalkers wouldn't have found a way to talk about it. But even so, invisible fireworks were going off in the room between them, in the almost airtight space between their two bodies as they soaked up the rare feeling of having nothing pressing to do. Mikasa was reading, as she often did - today, about the evolution of military-based personal combat and how to apply the same principles to killing Titans, or some such nonsense. Levi was alternating between filling out some paperwork (which was technically due yesterday, oh well) and absently making shadows where the light from the sun touched the bedsheets.
Did anyone know about their relationship? He often wondered this vaguely, the same way someone would wonder about all kinds of dribble that didn't really matter. Technically, having anything beyond a professional or pre-existing familial relationship with another soldier was against the rules. Then again, who would be brave, or foolish, enough to tell the two greatest soldiers mankind had ever known that they couldn't do something they wanted? They knew no one that stupid, and therefore no one they knew ever said anything. But was that the same as not knowing? Did it even matter? Their next mission was in less than a week. In seven days, they could both be dead, and would anyone really care what did or didn't (but let's be honest, did) go on between the sheets then? And if they did care, would they have a snowball's chance of understanding?
"What were they thinking?" they'd probably cry. Some (who didn't know them personally) would argue that he could have done better, with his ranking and all. Some (who did know them personally) would argue that she could have done better, with his personality and all. Others would click their tongues in disapproval at such blatant fraternisation, or shake their heads at the thought that two of the most valuable assets the Scouts had at their disposal weren't giving the war their full-time undivided attention. How dare they have thoughts, or opinions, or - shock! horror! - feelings. How dare they be human.
Levi was overcome with the urge to bring the question into the open. He valued Mikasa's opinion on all topics, and while an answer one way or another would change nothing, he was still curious to know what she thought. Whether she believed anyone knew about their feelings for each other, whether she thought that anyone minded. While he scored a whopping zero on the care factor scale, Mikasa, he knew, was more sensitive to public opinion.
But speaking would mean breaking this beautiful hush. So Levi kept quiet until something even more ethereal shattered it. In the wake of her words, the shards fell around them like glass, the resonating effect probably more a result of surprise than anything.
"Come again?"
"I said," she murmured, that soft, sweet voice filling the otherwise silent room, "What would you do if the war were to end?"
If. A little word that made a big difference. Levi never considered the subject, because that would imply that he believed that, one, there would be an end to this war and, two, he'd be alive to see it.
Because he hadn't thought about it, he had no opinion on the topic; so he said nothing.
When she got no answer she continued, explaining the source thought of her random statement as eloquently as she did everything else. "It's just that, there'd be no Scouting Legion if there was nothing to, well, scout, right?"
"I guess," he answered slowly.
"So, what would become of us all then? I suppose we could transfer to a different part of the military, or we could do...almost anything else." He felt her move behind him; she'd turned so she was facing him.
Levi knew that seeing those large, grey eyes would be his undoing, and he'd be helpless to do anything but answer any question she asked. But moments like these, when Mikasa's tough exterior cracked just enough to make the softness within her visible, were too rare and precious to pass up. So he turned too, and when he looked at her, he could see that her heart was indeed showing. It was like a mosaic, having been broken and bound together again so many times. But it was beautiful. At least, metaphorically - taken literally, this whole train of thought was pretty gross.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
"I didn't," she admitted. "That's why I was asking you. I don't know what I'd do. I mean, I know that I'd still want to be around you, and Eren and Armin, but beyond that, I have no idea."
Another question with no answer that would do any good. But damn her and her beautiful face, Levi answered it anyway. He hadn't thought about it before, no, but that didn't mean he didn't know right away what the answer was.
"I'd open a tea shop."
It was a little random, and Levi probably didn't come across as the customer serving type. He expected her to laugh, but as she always did, she surprised him.
"That sounds nice," Mikasa whispered. There was something so vulnerable about her just then. Those wide eyes, that pouty lip - he had to remind himself that this woman was capable of singlehandedly taking down every man in the army with her bare hands twice. "What else?"
Levi didn't know what the words that came out of his mouth would be until he heard himself say them, at the same time Mikasa did. He wasn't thinking about what he said at all. He felt compelled to give her any answer she wanted, but unable to speak anything but the truth. He hoped silently that they were the same thing.
"I'd...I'd have a house. A small one, because they're easier to keep clean. It'd be attached to the shop, so I don't have to travel far to work. And it'd be as close to as many different landscapes as possible." It was uncommon for Levi to feel true excitement, but the idea of possibility did strange things to him that weren't altogether unpleasant, but that he was far from accustomed to. "I might have a cat. Maybe a fish, but not at the same time. I don't imagine I'd stray too far from Erwin or the others...but it'd be nice to have somewhere truly our own where we can live. We'd sleep in until at least dawn every morning," (to Levi, that was a sleep in,) "And have plenty more lazy days like this one - only we'd have a much more comfortable bed to relax on."
Levi hadn't noticed when he'd started including Mikasa in his fantasy, but she sure did.
"We?" she asked with a hint of a smile.
Levi ran over the last few sentences in his head, and then nodded slowly. If he said it then, it must've been true. "Yes. If you'd have me."
Levi had never dared to imagine life without the Titans, and now he did, he came to realise that he couldn't imagine life without Mikasa. He looked at her then, and found that her gaze was locked onto him also. She seemed mystified, like she'd just realised something she hadn't expected to.
They were already only centimetres apart, so it took little effort to close the distance between them; and while it wasn't clear to either one exactly who had initiated the kiss, it was certainly eagerly reciprocated.
Levi pulled Mikasa closer, who seemed to have had the same idea, because she moved to him easily. She pushed him down until his back hit the sheets and hovered over him, managing it all somehow without breaking from him.
Given that they were in the military, they followed a strict dietary regime which consisted of very little sugar. And yet, she still managed to taste so very sweet and intoxicating. Every one of his senses were going wild; the familiar scent of her perfume making his heart beat faster; the soft little noises she made causing his spine to tingle; the feeling of her hands on him bringing out goosebumps her wake. Every so often she pulled away just long enough to breathe, and he opened his eyes briefly to steal a glance at her.
"Mikasa," he whispered finally. He would have been content to kiss her forever, but she had asked him a question, and because of the answer, he now had one to ask. "If the war were to end, would you still be with me?"
"Yes," she answered simply.
"Would you live in my tea shop house with me?"
Again, "yes."
"Mikasa." He stole another kiss before asking, "If the war were to end, would you marry me?"
Another thing he'd never thought about before; another thing he'd never expected to say until he actually said it. And yet here he was, meaning every word. In this impossible future they could never have, that she'd made him dream of, he knew he'd want Mikasa as his wife. She was kind yet capable; gentle yet powerful; sweet yet she knew when to be sour. She was everything he never knew he always wanted, his perfect match. Physically, emotionally, intellectually; they were partners, equals, in many things, and she was his everything. Marrying this fierce and fiercely beautiful person seemed like the most natural step in the world.
They stared at one another for a full minute. Levi was as deadpan as always, but he knew Mikasa knew him better. She watched him with discreet shock on her face, registering the emotion hidden deep within his eyes.
Then slowly, her expression changed. The answer would mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, for it wasn't as though they truly could get married. But nevertheless, Levi felt as though whatever she said would change his life.
"If the war were to end..." she breathed softly. "Levi, if the war were to end, I would love to marry you."
It was a fantasy, and Levi didn't make a point of indulging in folly. But, despite knowing that the day they spoke of would probably never come, he smiled at her anyway. It was something he wasn't used to doing because he didn't do it often - some believed wholeheartedly that he didn't do it at all - but she made him so happy then, that he couldn't help it.
There was nothing very special about this day at all. Nothing of consequence happened. The walls remained intact, no major incidents occurred, and as far as the history books would be concerned, this particular day may as well have not existed for all the difference it made. The world was the same as it had been yesterday.
But there was everything special about what happened between them on this ordinary day. There always was, whenever they got together. It was beautiful and inexplicable, and these extraordinary moments were now what Levi lived for. He pulled her down to him again and kissed her once more, and for a tiny eternity, the war had indeed ended, and he went to a place where he could live his life with his wife and his friends and his tea shop, and he'd never have to deny himself another minute of jubilation ever again.