His leg hurt like a bitch, but that wasn't the thing keeping him awake. He sat behind his desk, a cooling cup of tea to his right, a not-quite-full bottle of whiskey adjacent to it. A few droplets of the booze had wept onto the desktop. Amber-colored tears.
Amber. Fuck. That was a shit color tonight. Her eyes were amber. Her eyes used to be amber. Her body still had the amber eyes, but she was gone.
What if the carrion birds had already picked those eyes clean from her skull after he'd ordered them to throw her body from the—
He mopped the spill, then took a deep sip of his whiskey-infused tea. Not bad for him, that's what the fucking doctor had said. Whiskey was fine. Levi didn't drink much, anyway. Whiskey would help with the leg pain. Doctor said that.
It'd help him forget, too. But he wanted to remember, the same way you want to pick at an abscessed tooth. The jolt of pain that makes your eyes water and your balls tighten. Maybe that reaction was peculiar to him, though. Pain was more comforting than its absence. Pain he understood. Meant things were normal.
So quiet in this shitty barracks tonight. The brats had all gone to bed. Eren, and the blond kid who looked like he was always a second away from shitting his pants with fear. The girl, that gloomy brat with the cut on her cheek. What a crew.
Why am I awake? Besides the fucking obvious reasons.
He drank his tea, let it burn on the way down. Levi was waiting up because he wanted a meeting. Because he had a question that needed answering.
He would not sleep tonight or again until he knew.
The night was starless, and only a single flickering candle on his desk pierced the absolute dark of his chamber. It sat before him, a pool of light wavering around it. Another swallow, and the cup was empty. It'd burned good in the moment, but now his mouth tasted like rotten tea leaves. Brilliant. He placed the cup down next to the bottle, got up, and hobbled around the desk. The murky light warped over his bed. His left leg felt like one small, determined mouse was gnawing the shit out of his shinbone. He eased onto the mattress, placed a hand on the pillow. Pillows. He'd added a second one for a second head. Wasn't supposed to be permanent. He hadn't thought of it as permanent. Well, now it sure as fuck wasn't permanent.
His fingers traced the pillowcase, and snagged one strand of hair. Didn't need to check to know it was strawberry blonde. Or red. Or rust and gold. He didn't know shit about color. He only knew her.
Morning light slanted across her form, haloing the hair fanned across the pillow. He woke to red and gold, both foreign colors to him. In the underworld, even the brightest hair appeared dull. Sunrise had been a myth no one quite believed in. When he thought of sunrise now, he thought of this hair. He'd thought that since he'd met her, long before they ended up in bed together.
She's so damn young, you ugly old man. The thought came and went. He lined himself up against her back, molding his body to hers. Petra, still asleep, arched and pressed her ass against his already hardening cock. He draped an arm over her, laid his hand against the softness of her stomach. She was lean and wiry from all the years of ODM training, but she hadn't become overly muscled. She still had that silken skin.
Yesterday he'd woken with his hand cupping her breast. She had perfect tits, big enough to fill his grasp comfortably. She loved when he played with her breasts, moaning when he sucked at them, whimpering as he took a nipple between his teeth. Her nipples were pink as rosebuds, he'd thought. Now just hearing the word rose made him a little hard, which was a bitch when you lived behind Wall Fucking Rose.
Levi wasn't used to soft things. With his nose nestled in the thick of her hair, breathing in the lavender of her shampoo, he wondered if this was what addiction felt like.
She was so young, still a girl, and if he wasn't old in the technical sense he was too old for her. Too old for her to be the more experienced one in the bedroom and in everything they did that wasn't in the bedroom. He was a genius in battle but an idiot in all this talking and fucking. He fumbled a lot, his touch clumsy on her body, his tongue clumsy against the kind of sweet nothings that'd get her wet. Not that it took too much to get her wet. She liked him. Crazy girl.
This was their third time in bed, the second time he'd woken and found her beside him with the morning on her skin. He blinked into the sunlight. He felt dopey with it, like waking after an all night bender. Sleep was a drug to him. He'd used sparingly for years before her, getting max two or three hours a night. With her in his arms, her ass pressed against his crotch, he could sleep for days.
Testing, he kissed her bare shoulder. Wanted to see what'd happen if he pressed her "button" again. Sure enough, she responded as he'd thought she would. With a contented sigh, she wiggled under the sheets and rolled over so their noses touched. Her eyes stayed shut, but she smiled blissfully. She snuggled against him—Levi couldn't remember ever snuggling anyone before. He buried her against his chest, shut his eyes, felt their heartbeats sync in greeting. His cock continued to stir, but it wasn't all that insistent. It liked this budding routine.
If it was sunrise, he should really kick her out of his room. He would. In a minute.
"In a minute," Levi said to the knock at the door. Took him a couple of tries to get up; he'd like to say it was the whiskey, but he never got really drunk. His leg hurt. He opened the door to find some kid in a uniform who looked a little slack-jawed with awe. Fuck. Another one of these guys, the "the Captain Levi?" squealing types. "Yeah?"
"C-Commander Erwin said he'd be by later, sir." The blotchy-faced kid looked like he was gonna faint. Hopefully he'd do it on his own time. Later? Shit. Levi wanted answers now, and though he was a patient man that patience wasn't limitless.
"Thanks." Levi started to close the door, but the kid pressed on. Oh, fuck everything.
"Captain? Sir, I, I wanted to say that…well…" Here it came. The kid's face lit up like a damn torch. "They say you managed to take down the Female Titan yourself. I, I, er, I wasn't there. I was, ah, on the eastern edge of the forest. But what you did—"
He'd seen Petra broken against the tree, her amber eyes staring glassily up at him, and he'd found the others from his squad torn in half and flopping around with their necks bent and he had had more than enough for one day.
"Thanks." Levi closed the door with more force than necessary, watched his fist as it tightened and relaxed a few times. He could've told the kid to fuck off, but he didn't have the energy. He went back to his desk, slumped in his chair, and poured more tea and whiskey. About sixty percent whiskey, if he was being honest.
Leg was feeling better, at least.
He sipped and let his mind wander. His vision relaxed, softening the harsh outline of reality. When had he first seen her? Three years ago. She'd have been fresh from training.
It was the recruitment ceremony, and Erwin was onstage pitching everyone a line about how if they joined up with him they'd be dead inside five months. Great speech. Really weeded out the hardcore crazies from the piss-pantied fakes. But she was ready. Ready to become a member of the Survey Corps, even though she was in the top ten of her class and could've headed to the interior as an MP. Eighteen years old. Stupid girl. Crazy girl.
Cute girl. He thought that when he passed her. In general, Levi didn't get excited over anything much. A few embarrassing hard-ons during his adolescence aside, he'd never been crazy for pussy. Didn't chase it, and found he didn't quite want it to chase him. Too much mess involved. By the time he hit thirty, his urges had curbed sharply downward. Thought he could go the rest of his life without bedding someone, and didn't much mind the fact. His hand could be company enough when the mood struck, and no one in their right mind would ever tease him about being a fucking virgin.
Still, when he thought about women, he pictured them tall and huge-titted and world weary. The types that might open their legs to him in Wall Sina, now he was Humanity's Strongest. But Levi prided himself on honesty if nothing else, and he knew he'd be the carnival strongman, the freak show, the weird lay. He didn't want to give them anything to gossip about. So he steered clear.
But the little redhead with the wide, amber-colored eyes and the disarming smile had, well, disarmed him. He found himself taking a second look.
"She's a child, you fuck," he muttered to himself, but that didn't stop the looking. Petra Ral was everything he'd never been attracted to in a girl: shorter than him, red-haired, baby-faced, small-titted, always smiling. Levi was disgusted with himself, more so than usual. He'd always sneered at dirty old men like Pixis who hit on anything with tits, especially when there was a thirty-year age gap between them. Levi watched those old, big time higher-ups chase underage skirt with a feeling of righteous disgust. A man who looked to rob the cradle was no kind of man; he was a boy with shitty gray hair.
So finding himself, all of thirty-one, lusting after a teenager was a blow to his damn ego. No better than the rest of these shitbirds.
She came bouncing up to him. And he saw it in her eyes, the "the Captain Levi?" silent shriek. If she squealed at him, he was liable to walk away.
"Cadet Petra Ral." She saluted him, her right fist clenched over her heart. The wind teased her copper hair. He couldn't let it distract him. "Captain, I just want to say what an honor it is to meet you." A pink blush touched her cheeks. Fuck. This wasn't just standard awe; the girl was ready to swoon. Levi swallowed, sweat at his temples and hairline. Pixis and others like him never had their young girls actually want them. "You inspired me to join the Survey Corps. Actually, to join the military." She looked him straight in the eyes. "I hope I do humanity proud. Like you."
What should he say to her? Thanks? Anytime? Run away, shack up with some farm boy and squeeze out a few kids? Join the MPs for fuck's sake, you're insane to join the Survey Corps? Take off your blouse?
"Mmm," he said at last. Petra's eyes darted left and right, as if searching for the rest of that sentence. She'd find it alongside the manners he'd never bothered to cultivate. "That it?"
Send her away. The poor kid's delusional, she could never want the real you. Break her fantasy.
"Uh. Yes, sir. I…just wondered if you had any advice for a new recruit, I suppose." She was muttering now.
"Fine. Don't shit your pants on the first expedition or get eaten." He sniffed. "That enough, Ral?"
"Yes, sir." Mortified, she turned her eyes to the ground. All that starry, spangly bullshit he'd seen in her gaze had dropped away. Good. Good. Better to ruin her girlish dreams right now. That shit could get out of hand fast.
"Good." He walked away, refusing to look behind at her. Already, he was wrestling his desire and winning. If he knew anything about Petra Ral, it was that she had terrible taste. No woman could look at him and see something she wanted to fuck, not if she had any other option available.
He knew from experience.
He'd been twenty-six, still in the underground. He and Furlan had pulled off a damn fine score, knocking over some premium contraband and selling it through their own channels. The paydays were good, and Levi had only had to break a few skulls to ensure everything went smooth. To celebrate, Furlan had taken him out to "carouse," in the blond guy's own words. Furlan liked boys, and Levi didn't like anything.
Levi knew, when they entered the brothel, that Furlan was up to something. This was one of those "nice" places with red velvet curtains and beeswax candles, cloying perfume spritzed in every corner to hide the smell of sweat and pussy. Both young men and women in scanty lingerie sauntered around, making fuck-me eyes at potential customers. Levi took over a table at the back and sat there, wanting to get the fuck out.
His mother had worked in a place like this. Furlan didn't know that, because he didn't need to.
He watched as Furlan spoke with the proprietor, a man with lots of teeth and no hair. Levi tracked two women (plenty of teeth and hair) as they spoke with the man, glanced at Levi's table, and sashayed away. Furlan slipped the guy a coin, then went off arm-in-arm with some rouged pretty boy.
Levi wanted to make for the exit, but these places could be rough and Furlan was soft when it came to violence. He sat there as the girls swept behind a velvet curtain to his right, and eavesdropped on their conversation while he flashed his knife at some of the rougher clientele. They went back to their ale fast.
"He's already made a name for himself," one of the girls whispered to the other. Sounded like she was trying to coax her friend. Sure enough, the other spoke.
"Why do I always have to go with the ugly ones?"
If Levi had had feelings to hurt, that would've sucked. After another brief tussle, the reluctant one emerged, flashing a smile and batting her lashes at him. Her hair was dyed an unnatural red, her corset straining to contain her breasts. Without preamble, she skated her fingers through Levi's hair and straddled him. Her tits pushed up under his chin. She was a good few inches taller than he was.
"Hey, handsome," she whispered, and kissed him.
Handsome. Like she was trying to convince herself. Furlan had paid for his first time, because of course he had. Levi had never kissed anybody before, and she made a surprised noise when he kissed her teeth by mistake. How had he fucked up that badly? She cooed some nonsense about "wild man" and kissed him again. She tasted like oranges and bad choices. Took him only a minute to find a rhythm, let his tongue dart in and out of her mouth. She murmured and ground her body against his ever-hardening crotch. "Oh, baby," she purred, gasping as his lips found her neck. His dick throbbed, and his hands brushed down her tapering waist to the swell of her hips and ass. Fuck, maybe he should lose his cherry. Just do it this once. She was so…
Why do I always have to go with the ugly ones?
He could feel her resigning herself to this, and then he thought about those first few years of his life with his mother. His world had been that one sordid room she rented in the brothel, and how many nights had she told him to go in the closet and shut the door tight. Shut his eyes, too, and his ears. She'd kiss him on his forehead and tickle his feet, and lock him away giggling while she went downstairs to ply her trade, and then he'd lie in the dark of the closet and watch the thin crack of light under the door while the bedsprings creaked, and some man grunted, and his mother moaned and called out different names every time and whispered that it was so good, and sometimes the men called her an angel and sometimes they called her a whore, and occasionally when the springs had creaked very loud and the men had sounded kind of drunk they'd leave and he'd want to come out of hiding but he'd lie there paralyzed and listen to her crying softly and
His erection wilted.
"What's wrong, baby?" The girl pulled away, puzzled. The scent of oranges was nauseating now.
"Thanks." He lifted her off his lap and went outside, waiting by the door and staring up at the black cavernous ceiling until Furlan finished and they could go home.
"You didn't do it?" Furlan asked, looking distressed when he came out with his hair rumpled and a love bite on his neck. "I paid the proprietor."
"Here." Levi tossed him a coin and they walked home, neither speaking. This was why Levi had never gone to a brothel, not even when he'd had the money and was desperately horny. Back at their shared flat, Furlan went to bed and Levi washed up, scrubbing his mouth extra hard to get all her touch off. He glimpsed himself in their shard of mirror. He couldn't blame the girl for calling him ugly.
The only good thing about his appearance was that he took after his mother. Kuchel had been beautiful, with those slender features and hooded gray eyes. "Bedroom eyes" her clients called them. No wonder so many men had bought her. Unfortunately, those features—and her petite height—were desirable in a woman, but weird on a man. Levi knew he looked like a cross between a kid and a shaved rat. It wasn't appealing. And being shorter than everybody else, including most women, didn't help matters.
Still, ugliness was a blessing in disguise. He didn't want to fuck anybody, and if he'd been born handsome fending off skirt might've been a hassle.
"Why didn't you try it?" Furlan had asked on the way home. Levi thought that explaining all of this would take too long, and be too self-pitying, so he made it simple.
"I don't like redheads," he said.
"Erwin, where the fuck are you?" he growled. The hallway swam before him, torchlight undulating across the stone ceiling like sun rippling on water. He squinted, feeling a sharp pain behind his left eye socket. He normally didn't drink like this, but tonight was special.
Levi strode into the kitchen, cursing as he barked his shin against a chair. At least it wasn't the bad one. Slumping into the seat, he let his gaze focus on the stove, and the moonlight through the window. He remembered.
He remembered the morning after his first fuck.
He woke alone in his bed, feeling dizzy as he sat up. Dizzy from all the sleep, almost five hours of it. The sun was already up. Lemon-yellow light skated across the floor, a flurry of dust motes dancing in the beam. He was still naked, and the sheets beside him were still rumpled from her body. He didn't know when she'd left, but already he felt that phantom pain they said amputees got when they had to hack off a limb. His dick stirred in longing. He wanted to know what she looked like in the morning light.
What the fuck was he on about? He'd broken about a million fucking regulations last night. He'd slept with his subordinate, for fuck's sake, and now she knew she'd taken his twice-damned thirty-four year old cherry. Petra would get clingy. No doubt. The things she'd said to him, the wonderful things about wanting him for years, masturbating while thinking about him at night…shit, this was awful. He'd started fucking her like a madman at some point, snarling that she was his, only his, like some lunatic…
He was so damn stupid. He'd humiliated himself. Grumbling, Levi washed up fast and dressed faster before heading downstairs. His heart picked up pace when he heard her singing to herself in the kitchen, brewing coffee for everyone. He straightened his sleeves and fluffed his cravat before going in. He was the captain. He was in charge.
Petra stood by the stove, singing some song about cherry trees in spring as she poured the coffee. Cherry trees, of all things. He felt his face heat up, and he blushed rarely. Steam clouded the air around her, curling about her head. Like a halo, like an angel.
This was already so fucking difficult.
"Good morning." She turned around, beaming at him. In the dawn, her amber eyes practically glittered. Her sweet, eatable little mouth curled up in a smile. Levi could still feel her under his hands, taste the sweat on her skin—
"Mmm." He took a cup, blew, and sipped. She hovered by his elbow, awaiting his instructions. Good. "Thanks. For the coffee."
"Anytime," she murmured. Petra placed her hand on the countertop. He knew she was waiting for a signal to touch his arm.
"Listen," he began.
"I understand," she whispered. Levi blinked. That was damn easy. She understood he was breaking it off with her, right?
"Last night was good." His damn voice nearly cracked. Shit, he was bad at this. He'd never had to do this before, and he didn't want to do it. That made everything worse. "But."
"We can't," she said. Petra had her eyes downcast, but she wasn't crying. Damn, she looked almost serene. He didn't want her to think…
"It's not you. You're. Um." Fucking perfect. The perfect fuck. "You're nice."
He was a jackass.
"So are you." She smiled at him. Levi breathed out. He'd heard so many stories of women going psycho when a man pulled away. He didn't deserve this much luck.
"You're better than nice."
"So are you."
"We can't. You're on my squad. It's not right."
"I understand," she said again, and took her coffee. "I still don't regret it."
"Neither do I." He might regret this moment, though. She sat at the kitchen table while the three other idiots announced their presence, following one another through the door and banging into shit on the way to get their morning coffee. Gunther was first, as usual, the quietest of the three. Privately, Levi had always liked him best (apart from Petra, and that wasn't quite a fair comparison) for that exact reason. The guy sat next to Petra while Eld teased Oruo about something or other. Oruo looked especially shitty this morning, the crags in his prematurely aged face even deeper than usual. Probably hadn't got much sleep last night.
Heartbreak could keep a man up.
Sometimes when Oruo sniffed around Petra, Levi wanted to kick his ass. But things were different now. If Oruo knew Levi'd spent much of the night fucking the woman he loved, he'd probably be even more despondent.
Well, that's over now. He doesn't ever need to know.
Levi gave Oruo a brief sympathetic nod, and the poor guy's face lit up a bit. Oruo had damn near worshipped him since Levi saved his life a while back. He worshipped the man who'd made his beloved girl come twice. This whole stupid drama made him feel guilty. Grunting, Levi sat at the head of the table. This was why he shouldn't have bedded Petra. He didn't need this headache in his life.
He couldn't regret it, though. Much as he'd like to.
"Someone wanna let the brat out of the basement?" He sipped his coffee. He'd have preferred tea. The pot Petra had brought him last night remained cold and mostly untouched on his desk. "Also, find Hange. We need to keep going with the experiments."
Gunther left, and Eld sat staring into space while Oruo and Petra carefully didn't look at each other. Levi gazed at Petra for a second, feeling a little content. At least they'd stopped before it got out of hand. They could walk away, chalk it up to a moment of insanity.
Then she looked up at him, her eyes shining, her lip curled in that coy little smile, and he realized that she hadn't believed him when he said it was over.
And he realized that he didn't believe it himself.
Erwin hadn't been in the kitchen, and he wasn't in Petra's room. Not Petra's room anymore, though. She wasn't coming back to it. Levi lit a candle, a single flame in the dark, and lay down on her bed. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the faint lavender on her pillow. He'd never spent a night in this room, but he'd become a familiar visitor to her chambers back at the castle. Made sense. Her room there had been in its own separate wing, further away from the others. Besides, her bed had been so fucking comfortable it was almost indecent.
Levi breathed the scent of her.
He wanted to kiss her entire body. She lay there, twined in the sheets and pliant under his hands while his lips traced her shape. He entered a trance while he kissed and licked at her breasts, her nipples peaking beneath his teeth and tongue. Petra ran her hands through his hair and moaned, and moaned, and whispered his name. He loved how she'd taken extra care to bathe, scrubbing her body down twice because she knew he was particular. She smelled of lavender and hard white soap, her body supple under his caresses. She had a dusting of freckles on her shoulder, like cinnamon, he thought stupidly. There was a tiny mole under her right breast, and when he breathed on her stomach she cooed in surprise because she was so fucking wonderfully sensitive. He kissed down her stomach, ran his mouth over the hill of her hip, his tongue tracing the sweet juncture of her thigh and belly. Her inner thighs, in particular, were velvet soft. He wanted to idle there for hours, kissing that sweet white expanse all the way down to her knee and calf and then back up. She giggled when he found a sensitive spot. He used his tongue on her, and eventually made his way up to the hair at her sex where he paused for a minute, because he couldn't help but remember that people piss and shit awfully close to that spot. The first time he'd hesitated she'd been a little offended, but she'd understood and promised him that she'd cleaned especially there, and then he'd felt like kind of a dickhead and parted her so he could at least make it up to her. She'd been pink—he'd been surprised how pink—and he understood now why people called that particular intimate spot on a woman a bud. He kissed and licked it, amazed at how she tasted, dark and sweet and secret. He sucked at that little bud of hers while Petra moaned and huffed and clawed at the mattress, whimpering how good and cruel he was. He thrust his tongue deep into her and traced the very tip around her clit again and again and could have stayed there forever until she shuddered around him and came apart. He left her damp and spent, made his way up her belly until she gripped his head and kissed him, tongue rotating in his mouth, tasting herself on his lips.
(He loved making her come. There'd be the hushed intake of breath, almost like a surprise she hadn't expected, and then she'd shriek, her voice rising to a high, ecstatic pitch. Oh. Oh. If he lingered in that spot after, licking her again for a second climax, she'd get even more surprised and her voice would pitch even higher. It was poetry.)
Then, without saying a word, she trailed her tongue down his body, along the ridges of his muscles until she took his cock in her hand, pumped it twice, and then pressed her mouth to his tip. He watched in awe while she licked him along his shaft, took the head into her mouth, swirled her tongue. He made soft, gasping noises as she took him as deep as she could, and her head began to bob. They lay in her bed, the canopy overhead, the curtains drawn all around them, living in a world of candlelight and clean sheets, the moon peeking through the window over the headboard and lighting their way to each other. Her tongue stroked him, her pink little mouth tightened around his member, and she squeezed and sucked him until his head tipped back and his hips jerked, and she swallowed and daintily wiped at the corners of her mouth. He laughed at that. He didn't like his laugh. It rattled.
She taught him many positions, and he taught her how much she could enjoy them. When they were spent, lying together in a fevered tangle of limbs, he'd remind himself that they weren't going to keep sneaking around forever. Erwin was going to know about it sooner rather than later, and Levi would abide by whatever the Commander decided. That sureness allowed him the moments of pleasure. Lying under a velvet comforter and atop a feathered mattress (Petra had gotten lucky with her choice of bedroom), with her in his arms, the lavender and silk of her, Levi would drowse and wonder how he'd gone decades without knowing real comfort.
Those were good nights. They'd started off bad, though.
The second time they fucked…
It was two days after the conversation in the kitchen, and Levi'd woken with hard-ons and been generally pissy. She'd made it worse, always giving those coy little smiles, always brushing past him like she knew, just knew that soon he'd break and come crawling to her. His head throbbed. The experiments with the brat and Hange didn't improve.
Finally, on the second night, he decided he needed to talk to Petra. Just talk.
She hadn't come to him, the brat. Snarling to himself, Levi stalked to her chambers and rapped on the door. She'd open up, and he'd invite himself into the doorway. Just far enough for a frank fucking chat.
"Come in," she called. He paused. She was gonna summon him like a fucking errand boy? Or maybe she thought it was someone else. Oruo, maybe…
Levi slammed open the door.
The curtains of her canopied bed were drawn back. Several candles illuminated the chamber, sitting on the dresser and a nearby table. The moon haloed her from behind.
Petra lay naked in bed. She sat up, watched him coolly.
"Are you going to close the door?" she asked.
His dick throbbed and he wanted to kill her. Sneering, he kicked the door shut and stalked forward, hands fisted at his sides. She watched him, her head lolled to the side, hair falling into her face. Levi had fought the roughest bastards in the underground, taken on fifty-foot titans without a moment's pause. This twenty-one year old girl made him feel helpless. She seemed to know everything that he didn't.
She'd known he'd come. She'd anticipated what he wanted. She'd give it to him.
Levi bared his teeth. "You're a smug little bitch."
"What are you going to do about it? Sir?" She said his honorific like a joke. He saw flashes of crimson, and then he was gripping her hair and yanking her head back at a painful angle. She cried out, and he smothered that cry with his mouth. She kissed him back, her hands struggling at his buttons. Snarling, he threw her onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress and watched him, breasts heaving. "No. You don't touch me. Got it?"
"Yes," she whispered. She gasped when he flipped her onto her stomach. He dragged her by the hips so that her ass and legs hung over the edge of the bed, undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants. When she lifted her head to look, he pushed her facefirst back into the mattress.
"Stay," he snapped. He took out his cock, nudged her legs open, and thrust deep inside of her. She was ready for him, but she could've been readier, and she shrieked as he thrust again, and again, picking up pace. Her cunt tightened around him (it's like I'm fucking silk he thought at some point, the idea floating through the haze of his mind) and he shoved in to the very hilt. He braced his hands on either side of her and rode. Petra kept her face pressed into the bed, moaning and whimpering.
"Levi," she cried. The gall. The fucking nerve of that bitch.
"Did someone give you permission to break rank, you little shit?"
"No, sir. Sorry, sir." She stayed obedient and silent as he took her, keeping her damn hands to herself. The wet slap of their fucking was the only sound, apart from his ragged breathing. Soon, she couldn't help herself. "Sir. Sir. Please. Don't stop."
"I will do whatever the fuck I want to do, and you won't say one. Damn. Word. About it." Levi punctuated every word with a thrust. He could feel the end closing in. Already, white lights danced at the corners of his vision, and his hips pistoned faster than he could control. Leaning closer, out of his mind, he sank his teeth into the back of her neck. Petra wailed. "Thank me for this. Thank me, you whore," he growled.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Whatever you want. Oh. Oh." She rippled around him, her pussy squeezing him tight. She screamed her climax into the velvet bedspread. "Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, sir." She spiraled and moaned her pleasure as he came inside of her. When it was over, his hair was in his eyes and he was gasping for breath as he pulled his softening cock out of her. She rolled over. He'd never seen anyone look so happy. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed. Her breasts quivered with every ecstatic breath, and she beamed. "That…was…wonderful," she gasped. She giggled. She looked positively kittenish.
Fuck. He'd sometimes wondered why a sweetheart like Petra would want to slay fucking titans for a living, but apparently she was a secret freak like the rest of them.
What…
What the fuck had he done? He backed up, pants still unbuttoned, a vise-like feeling tightening around his temples. He'd called her a whore.
sometimes they called her an angel, sometimes they called her a whore
"No," he choked out, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Something loomed over him, liable to crush him, something titan-sized from the shadowy back of his skull where all the monsters nested. He was a lunatic, a freak because of what he'd done and seen and been, but he wasn't…
He wasn't like them.
"No. No. Stop," he said to no one but himself.
"Levi? S-Sir?" She sounded afraid now.
"You want me like this?" He felt like his damn brain was going to spill out his ears. When he finally looked at her, he saw she'd shrugged into a green robe, tied it at the waist. Her copper hair was rumpled. "You think I didn't fuck anyone until now because I was shy?" He wanted to pound his head against the wall to silence the awful fucking unknowable circulation of thoughts. "I'm fucked up, Petra. When I come in here, and you're naked and smiling."
He couldn't figure out how to finish the sentence.
"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't think it would hurt you." Her voice was small, eyes downcast. Candlelight caught the shine of tears.
"You going to cry?"
"No." She said it tight through pursed lips so she didn't sob. That little bit of stupid comedy finally silenced the crazy in his skull.
"Let it out. I'm the only one here."
Her face crumpled, and her shoulders heaved. He made her sit down on the bed, and said things like 'It's okay' over his shoulder while he scrubbed himself down. The whole thing would've been funny if it weren't so damn crazy. When she calmed, and he was clean, she asked him to wait here and went and made tea (and probably took care of the not getting pregnant thing on the sly.) When she came back, he drank her tea. It was herbal, something designed to soothe. Levi liked black tea, but being wired up was the last thing he needed.
"One thing you can count on in the Survey Corps. Everyone's out of their mind." He sipped. It tasted good. "Probably some blockage in the brain. Can't take a proper shit, and it all backed up."
Petra giggled, her nose wrinkling. "It's so odd. Normally, when men talk about piss and shit it turns me off."
"Well, lucky me." She drank tea with him. It was comfortable, and when they were done he meant to give some talk about how they couldn't do this anymore and discovered his lips were on hers. He guided her towards the bed, where they both got naked and made love. This time, he kissed her while she climaxed. When they were finished, she left to take care of herself again, and they cleaned up and lay together in silence for a while, the moon as witness.
"What would you like to do?" Petra asked.
"The next expedition's in a few weeks." He traced her nipple with his thumb. "I don't want to give Erwin a reason to break the squad up. I don't like the idea of going in so soon with a major change."
"Okay." She understood what he was really saying. They'd wait until after the expedition to tell Erwin. Which meant there'd be something to tell. "Should we wait until after the expedition to keep…doing this?"
"I'd say yes, but my mood's shitty at the best of times. Not getting laid'll make it worse."
"All right." She sighed, and wound his arm about her waist.
"If you had to choose," he murmured, his eyes drooping. Fuck, this made him sleepy.
She kissed his shoulder. "You know, I wrote to my father and told him I wanted to devote myself to you. I want to serve under your command, no matter what."
Even if it means Erwin forces us to stop? He would've said it, but he fell asleep. When he woke up, his hand was cupping her breast. She filled his grasp so perfectly.
The next several days would've been like a vacation, except for the fact that they were guarding a titan shifter and dealing with batshit four-eyed Hange. Also, Oruo redoubled his efforts to imitate Levi, probably to get Petra's attention. Sometimes Levi wanted to hang himself or Oruo or both of them from the castle's battlements just to make it fucking stop.
But the nights were theirs, and he thought they were perfect. Sometimes he'd lie next to her afterwards and realize that he wasn't in pain. For the first time in his life since he could remember, he didn't open his eyes with a weight on his chest.
It wasn't that he was happy, more like he was neutral.
He loved watching her ride him; her on top was his favorite position. He loved seeing the fire in her eyes, the determined little way she bit her lip as she fucked. Her breasts bounced. He got to look at her, and take in the fact that she'd given him her body. He tried to make sure she came every night.
"Coming is my favorite thing in the world," she murmured against his chest one evening while their sweat cooled. "It feels like freedom. I think the cruelest thing you could possibly do to a person is to take away their ability to come. It's what makes us human."
"I used to think you were so innocent," he said. He grinned. "Until you showed up in my room looking to fuck me, I thought you were a virgin."
"Why, because I'm young? Or cute?" She batted her lashes at him. Brat. "Did you want me to be a virgin?"
"Fuck no. One of us should've known what they were doing." He'd never understood the virgin fetish. Far as he knew, a girl hurt her first few times. If Petra had been tight and uncomfortable when she came to him, he'd have probably lost his hard on.
After the fucking came the talking, mostly on her end, and he was surprised to discover he enjoyed it. After a lifetime of silence, and darkness, listening to her stories about her brother and sister, her parents, her home in Wall Rose, the rooftops she climbed, the sunlight on her skin, it made him feel like he'd been part of it. When he dreamed now, sometimes he didn't have nightmares. Sometimes he was in a warm room, something baking in an oven, a girl's laughter echoing through the halls. He'd wanted that his whole life, and at least in a phantom world he had a few glimpses of it.
Sometimes he'd think about telling Erwin now, and asking Petra to leave the Survey Corps. He'd tuck her into a little house in a meadow behind Wall Sina. Fuck it, the higher ups would let him have whatever he wanted. If he wanted a mansion for her, he could have it. He'd leave her there in peace and come home to fall into bed with her. She'd be his reward, the treat that he got to keep all to himself. She'd make love to him in the day as well as the dark. She'd sing in the kitchen while brewing tea. They'd clean the place together, and he'd do most of the dusting, which she hated. Instead of the three-minute military showers, there'd be long, hot baths with both of them in it. (Petra's fetish was rough sex; his was doing it while bathing.) They'd ride together for pleasure, not because monsters were chasing them. She'd tend his wounds, soothe his bruises. She'd wear soft, colorful dresses made from the finest material, dresses that he could take off of her easily. He'd bring her presents, anything she wanted. He dreamed of spoiling her with silk and sugar. She'd watch from the window while he rode away, and run out the door to greet him when he came back. He'd write her letters from the barracks, and feel calm in battle because he'd know she was safe. She'd be sweet, warm, stroke his head when he laid it in her lap because the world was shit and he was so damn tired. There'd be sunlight and firelight. She'd be his, all his, only his. He'd have something to come home to. He'd have a home.
But he knew she would not leave the Corps willingly, and he also knew that what he…admired…about her was both her sweetness and her wildness. She had bruises of her own that needed tending. If he put her in a house, even a mansion, he'd clip her wings. Wings of Freedom, that's what she'd wanted. If he took those from her, he'd be a monster as savage as those he fought.
But sometimes he'd wake up, heart pounding, and remember Furlan and Isabel in the muck and the rain, torn to pieces by monsters, and he'd clutch her closer and think it's not going to happen again. I won't let it happen again.
You got close again. You let someone in again. It could happen again.
Shut the fuck up. Fuck you.
The next morning, his skin felt raw and his stomach cold. That night was the only time he told her he didn't feel horny.
When they rolled around in that bigass bed of hers, he'd worship her body. When he realized she did the same for him, it was a shock. She'd throw herself into his arms when he came through her door at night, making desperate noises in her throat as she ripped at his clothes. Sometimes she'd straddle him and just touch him, her eyes softening with bliss.
"What're you looking at?" he grumbled one night, feeling awkward. Petra blinked in surprise.
"You, obviously." She blushed, tipped her chin to her chest. "Sometimes I can't believe it."
"That you're making it with such a runt?" He tried to turn it into a joke, and was shocked at her disbelief.
"You're the best looking man I've ever seen."
Honestly, he thought he'd caught her in a lie. Then he thought she had shit taste. Then he worked until she came three times.
To everyone else, he was the oddity. To her, he was the gold standard.
They were happy. Fuck neutral. He was so damn happy. He finally realized it during the worst sex they ever had.
She'd wanted him to take her from behind while she was on her hands and knees. That was the one position he'd felt weird about and had avoided until now. Within minutes of starting, he felt the tight pull at the base of his spine that meant he'd come soon. He looked down at the white curve of her back, listened to the wet sounds of their joining. She'd set up a full-length dressing mirror on the other side of the room so they could watch themselves fuck. She's got the sweetest face and the dirtiest mind, he thought, pleased. Petra's eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth agape. He fisted her hair. She shrieked with pain and pleasure as he struck against her cervix. He could go so deep in this position.
And as he neared his climax, he looked into the mirror and saw her on her hands and knees, her face tight, his own teeth bared. He saw himself rocking into her, and then reality disappeared.
He shouldn't have opened the closet door, because her friend wasn't gone yet. But he wanted a glass of water. He peeked through the crack.
"Mommy?" he whispered.
His mother was naked on her hands and knees. Her breasts swung, and her sweaty, red face was twisted in pain. She kept saying how good it was, though. The man behind her had his face to the ceiling. His naked body was soaked in sweat; drops of it stood out on his gross, matted chest hair. Levi's stomach shriveled. He hated gross things. Hated them. It smelled like something stale in here now.
"Mommy?" He pushed open the door. His mother's eyes snapped open.
"Baby! No, not yet!" She tried to shoo him back inside. "Playtime's almost done."
"What the fuck?" The man knocked his mother aside, knelt on the bed with his penis erect and glistening. Levi thought, in that suspended moment, that it was veiny and gross. Gross like everything else in his life, except his mother. He stood with his hand on the doorknob, mouth open. "You've got a kid? What kind of freak show is this?"
His mother started cooing sweet words, but the man gripped her face and shoved her off the bed. She hit her head on the floor.
His mother always called him her sweet little boy. If they went outside, he'd suck his thumb and hide behind her skirt. Levi was afraid of almost everything, but he wasn't afraid now.
Levi bared his teeth when the man started shoving him back into the closet and bit his ugly, veiny hand. He sank his teeth in, shook his head. That's how puppies kill their dinner, his mother had said. He tasted blood. Gross.
"Son of a bitch!" The ugly man ripped his hand away, picked Levi up, and threw him into the closet. Levi felt the small back of his skull hit the wood, and everything swam around him. He threw up in the darkness and had to smell the gross vomit everywhere while his mother screamed and
Levi's erection shrank. He tasted bile as Petra flipped over to gaze up at him.
"Baby, what is it?" she whispered, touching his face.
Levi made some animal noise as he leapt off the bed. Crawling across the floor, naked and without any shame, he managed to grab her empty water basin before he threw up into it. His stomach seized, the vomit burned his throat. Strings of saliva dangled from his mouth, and he brought up nothing but bile. He clutched the edges of the basin, sweating all over. Petra was next to him, touching him, soothing him.
"Baby, are you sick?"
"Don't fucking call me that," he choked, and dry heaved. The door closed, and minutes later she was there with a fresh basin and a cloth. She poured water and wetted the back of his neck, his temples. Levi dimly realized that he was squatting completely naked on the stone floor, but he needed that chill. He felt like he was running the highest fever of his life.
After about ten minutes, he calmed down. He felt the cold again, and she wrapped her own robe around his shoulders. When he muttered that he needed his toothbrush, she produced it with a smile. She'd gone back to his room for it. She knew him. Levi brushed his teeth three times, scrubbed his entire face with soap, drank two glasses of cold water. Petra busied herself with cleaning up the vomit. He apologized for ruining her water basin, but she said that was what it was for. He felt sick and shamed with her robe on his shoulders, his ass and balls touching the cold floor while he clasped his knees.
Sex was disgusting. He was disgusting. How could people do this without wanting to kill themselves? His legs shook while Petra helped him to the bed. He lay under the blanket, shivering. The cold bit him to the bone now. He'd never get warm.
"Do you want me to give you space?" she whispered. He saw her as if for the first time, silver in the moonlight. She had to be so afraid, but she didn't show it. No tears.
"Petra," he croaked. He licked his chapped lips. "If I told you to never ask about what just happened—never even mention it again—could you do that?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation.
"I'm serious. You can never ask."
"I never will." She paused. "Would you like me to sleep here, or should I go somewhere else?"
He snorted. "It's your damn room, Ral. Get in."
She disrobed and crawled in beside him. Naked, they lay on their sides facing each other. What a man he must look to her now. Some hero. Levi grunted. "I can walk. If you want, I'll leave."
"I want you to stay." Her eyes were sincere, and he was so desperate for touch that he tried not to mind feeling small and stupid in front of her. She smoothed his hair and stroked his face. She massaged the back of his neck, rubbing little circles while she gazed into his eyes. He pulled her nearer, let her kiss his forehead and his eyelids. There was nothing lustful now. When he kissed her lips, she knew it wasn't a prelude to sex. Tonight, she was content just to be with him.
Eventually she fell asleep, her arms around him and his around her. He studied the honey color of her lashes, the soft fuzz of hair at her temple. Her breath puffed against his collarbone. He kissed the crown of her head. The panic receded. He was safe here. He hadn't felt safe since…
He couldn't remember.
Something shifted inside of him. "Fuck me," he murmured. She snuggled against him, still asleep. "So that's what it feels like."
He didn't dare give "it" a name.
"I need you to tell me about it again," he said to Eren. He couldn't remember leaving Petra's room and ending up in the dungeon—sorry, the "basement" where they kept the kid. Torchlight flickered on the walls. Levi held the candle in front of him, lighting the bars. Eren sniffled, sat on his bed. The kid had been crying again. Poor little bastard.
Petra had been so damn fond of him.
"O-Okay, captain. Are you sure?" The boy's eyes glistened with welling tears.
"For the reports. The families. I should know the particulars."
Eren had been there when his squad died. Meanwhile, Levi had been replenishing his fucking gas canisters.
Eren took a breath. "Mr. Gunther went first. Annie…I mean, the shifter came out of the trees." The kid sounded sick. Apparently this "Annie", the suspect, was a friend of his. Too damn bad. "She sliced his neck with her blade."
Gunther. The quiet one. The guy you never thought to remember until he was on top of you, weapon at the ready. Eld's Shadow, that was Levi's shitty nickname for him, because the guy was always at Eld's beck and call. Didn't stand out in any particular way, but the steadiest of all of them. He had older parents. He'd been thoughtful.
I'm sorry, Gunther.
"Then Mr. Eld and the others made me go ahead. I didn't see everything, but they worked together so well. You trained them very well, sir." Eren sniffed. "Mr. Eld almost had her, but…she healed her eye more quickly than we thought she could. She…she bit him in half and spat him out."
Eld. The golden boy. The second in command. Levi had sometimes found himself irritated because Eld seemed like the upside-down version of himself, built the same but absolutely different lives. From a good family. Effortless athletic ability. Natural leader. Easy charm. Had a beautiful girl he loved, who loved him. Had a promising career in front of him. Yet Eld had never been a shithead. He'd taken his responsibilities seriously, and knew how to cool Petra when she got too hot-headed, or put Oruo in his damn place.
I'm sorry, Eld.
"Then…" Eren choked on the next words. Levi felt the ground shifting under his feet because he knew it was her turn next. "Miss Petra was trying to get away. She could've moved. There was still time." Now he was crying, but Levi didn't try comforting him. He pictured her flying low to the ground, her face blank with horror. He could hear her scream as the titan came up behind her, lifted its foot. "I could hear Mr. Oruo yelling at her to move. He told her to hurry, but then…"
Smashed against the tree. She'd been there one minute, gone the next. She could have moved, but she'd been so afraid. The fear had overwhelmed her. She'd been crying. Had she thought about him, in those last few seconds? Had she waited for him to save her? She'd trusted him, given him everything, and he'd left her to die in terror and pain.
Petra.
"And Oruo?" If Eren noticed Levi's voice grew rough, he didn't show it.
"I heard him sob when she…when she was gone. Then he went after the nape. If the titan didn't have that hardening ability, he'd have killed her. He was amazing."
He had been. Best fighter on his squad, no doubt of it. Oruo could've fallen back after Petra's death, but he'd cried. He'd yelled for her. He'd charged in to avenge her.
He'd loved her.
Oruo hadn't had any of Levi's pleasure. He'd only known the pain of loving her without hope and losing her. But he'd deserved Levi's happiness far more than Levi did. It wasn't fair. Life was shit. Levi'd always known it, but being reminded so bluntly was fucking awful. It'd been Petra's choice to be with him and not Oruo, but he couldn't help but think she'd made a mistake.
Oruo had screamed and cried and felt. Levi had stood there when he found her body, and blinked.
He'd blinked.
That was it.
Privately, Oruo had been Levi's least favorite member of the squad. The stupid imitation, for one thing, not to mention how much he'd salivated after Petra. But he'd been her friend despite the fact she couldn't love him, and he'd fought for her and cried for her. He'd done it with no hope of reward. Levi was surprised when thinking about Oruo nearly made him lose it.
Oruo. You deserved more.
"Is that it, sir?" Eren asked.
"That's it. Thanks. Get some sleep." Levi started to move away, but Eren stopped him.
"She…Miss Petra…she was so…"
Levi turned around, wondering if the kid was trying to hint at something. Petra and he had been so damn careful not to let anyone know. Sometimes even he'd forget they were fucking, almost surprised when she ended up in his arms at night.
"Yeah?" Levi said.
"She was so kind to me, and I let her die." The kid hunched into a ball on his bed and buried his face in his knees. "She wanted me to trust her, but she shouldn't have trusted me."
Trust. That had been her big thing. Trust, and teamwork, and love and hope and all that other bullshit. She'd trusted him with her body and her life. Look where it got her.
"You can't trust anyone but yourself. You can't even really do that. Remember. Make the best choice you can. The rest is chance." Not the sweetest words he could've given the kid, but he was low on sweet. Always had been. As Eren sniffled, Levi made his way out of the dungeon.
Trust. The bitemark on her hand from when she apologized to Eren for doubting him.
She'd trusted Levi not to hurt her, but then that same night…
"You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?" He kept his voice low, but he could feel the anger pulsating under his skin. She shut his bedroom door behind her and pressed her back to it. She didn't understand why he'd kept her waiting in her chambers.
"What?" She looked baffled. "I'm sorry we doubted Eren. It won't happen again—"
"I'm talking about us."
Levi rarely spoke to her in public, never singled her out for attention. But she was getting more starry-eyed around him, it was obvious. Today, while the others drank tea and discussed Eren's difficulty with titan shifting, she left the table and came over to talk to and giggle at him. He'd stood there, trying to be neutral, while she laughed and joked with him. Her body language had been so fucking casual. A damn surprise she didn't throw her arms around him or kiss him in front of the guys.
Gonna have to tell her to knock it off, he thought.
Then, Eren exploded into half-titan form behind them. The entire squad had been ready to slice the kid to shreds. Petra had stood among them, flinty-gazed, her teeth gritted. Fine. Good. He wanted them on guard and ready to kill. No time to get soft.
But while the others had yelled at Eren about what he was, why he'd shifted, if he was friendly or not, Petra had only had eyes for Levi.
"Captain! Get away from Eren, you're too close!" she'd screamed. Levi could just tell that everyone was paying attention. Everyone noticed how frantic she looked to see him close to the titan body. And even though you could chalk it up to a subordinate looking out for her superior, the utter terror in her eyes went beyond professional.
And everyone could see it. He was sure.
Levi'd wanted to yell at her to shut the fuck up, but he had to be the one to play cool. Eventually, Hange showed up shrieking and dancing around in excitement, and they all figured out what the problem was. The squad bit their hands in solidarity. It was all fine.
But she'd been so. Damn. Obvious. Levi clenched his jaw just thinking about it.
"Us?" Petra asked, gasping when he rounded on her.
"This isn't a game, Petra. The way you cling, the way you screamed at me to get away from Eren like I'm some goddamn rookie who needs you to tell me where to stand." He gritted his teeth as she quailed, her cheeks reddening. "Anyone can see what's going on between us. I don't need that extra fucking headache right now. We're days away from the expedition."
They'd be outside the walls, and she'd be in danger. Every time they left the walls they were all in danger, but thinking about her surrounded by titans now, it…
And what they were looking for…what Erwin was after…
And he wanted to tell her but he couldn't.
"I…I'm sorry," she whispered. "But like you said, we're days away from the expedition. When we come back, we'll tell the Commander. Then we can—"
"You think he's gonna let us stay on the same squad? Tch." His eyes narrowed. "Maybe we shouldn't tell him. Everyone'll think I'm a prick if I don't marry you. Do you want that? To leave the squad, maybe even the Corps? Everyone'll think it's their twice-damned business what we do. And for what?" He wasn't even making sense now, but he was so fucking angry and he didn't know why. "Six months in, maybe we get tired of screwing each other. Maybe you get pregnant. I don't want another brat depending on me. I've already got you."
Petra paled. "You don't mean any of that."
"You get on my nerves." He practically snarled. "All your fussing and crying and shitty, clingy…bullshit." He wanted her to run out of the room. He wanted her to run away from him. He wanted her to run home to her father, stay away from this shitty expedition.
Petra didn't cry. She appeared scarily calm.
"Well, you're not the easiest person to be around either." She pursed her lips. "But I'm willing to deal with it."
"Maybe you shouldn't be." He got right in her face. "And you seem to be getting awfully comfortable giving me lip. So unless you want to get on your knees and blow me, I think you should go back to your own fucking room."
The fire blazed in her eyes then. The sweet, tender Petra dropped away, and she sneered. He could tell that the words "go fuck yourself" were close on her lips.
"Will that be all, sir?" she said at last through clenched teeth.
"Mmm."
She left, didn't even close the door behind her. He listened to the angry clack of her boots receding into the distance, then shut the door.
Good. She saw what he was. She saw what a freak he was.
Leave, Petra. Leave me. Leave.
"You fucking animal. You sick, twisted bastard. You ugly freak." He muttered this to himself, staring at the door. "What've you done. What've you done."
That hadn't been their last conversation. He'd gone to her room and apologized. She'd apologized for being too obvious in front of everyone. They'd made love, and she'd smiled in her sleep with kiss-swollen lips. They'd been together the night before the expedition, happy as possible.
So why did he keep replaying that awful scene in his mind?
Levi opened the door to his chamber, and halted. Erwin Smith was seated behind his desk. When Levi entered, he stood.
Erwin practically filled the room with his presence. Six-two, golden-haired, built like a wall himself, eyebrows for fucking days, the Commander had been born to take up space.
Levi had been born to linger in the corners and cracks.
Seeing Erwin here, Levi's breath stuttered. His spinning head righted itself. He felt stronger.
"There you are." Erwin frowned. "I was about to leave."
"I, er, only stepped out for a second." Levi shut the door behind him.
"I've been waiting almost fifteen minutes."
Well, fuck. "Sorry."
Levi kept his back to the door. He needed something supporting him now; the room wavered. Erwin eyed the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the desk.
"How's your leg?"
"The medicine helps," Levi grumbled. Erwin smiled.
"Is this about my plan for Stohess?"
"No." Levi didn't go around giving Erwin advice on his plans. Far as he saw it, Erwin dreamed the dreams, and he made sure they happened. "I'll follow whatever orders you give."
"You're on rest."
"Then I'll be on rest until you tell me otherwise."
Another smile. Levi felt his shoulders relax. All the nightmares clawing at the sides of his face slid away whenever Erwin was around. Levi didn't want to fuck the guy or anything; it went deeper than sex, whatever he felt for this man. The world around them was shit. Always had been.
Erwin saw a way out of all that. A way forward. Levi could be a part of it.
It was the reason he didn't kill himself when he woke up sweating on the floor and thought about putting a knife to his wrists. That'd happened a few times. It'd happen again, he was sure.
"What is it, Levi?"
"I need to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest."
"All right."
Levi took a breath. "Why did you tell me to replenish my blades and my gas?"
Erwin blinked. The candle on Levi's desk was almost out, dripping into a dense pool of wax.
"Is that truly your question?"
"We'll start there."
"The mission failed because we misjudged our subject. We went in with bad, no, incomplete information. When she escaped, it was clear that she might be able to regenerate into her titan form soon. I knew she'd go after Eren." He stopped.
"And."
"And. You are Humanity's Strongest, but even you might not have been able to handle her."
"I did."
"Yes, but I didn't know if you could. I couldn't return to the walls with half our forces dead and our greatest hope gone as well. The people couldn't have borne it. Pixis and the others would have withdrawn all support from the Survey Corps. I had to keep you safe."
"You knew she'd go after Eren. My squad."
"They were some of the greatest soldiers the Corps has ever seen. They weren't helpless. When they put on the Wings, they accepted their possible death."
True. All of it true. And Erwin understood that to achieve greatness, to make something entirely new for all of them, he'd have to sacrifice.
"Levi, you knew all of this already."
"Yeah. I did."
Erwin frowned. "Then I don't understand why I'm here."
He took another breath. "Petra Ral." He made a noncommittal motion with his hand. "I was fucking her."
A beat. "Oh."
"I mean, we were fucking each other." He cleared his throat. "I guess she'd say we were lovers." He blinked. "We were lovers."
"I see." Erwin nodded. "Then I'm sorry for you. Truly."
"Thanks. You know, it doesn't matter now but I might as well ask. We were going to tell you after the expedition, before…well, before there was no point. Honestly. What would you have done? Would you have let her stay on my squad?"
Erwin's mouth twitched. "Truthfully, no. You know the regulations. Either you would have stopped the relationship, or I'd have transferred her. I can't ask someone to assume command over their lover. It clouds their objectivity."
Levi laughed. He didn't like his laugh. It rattled. Erwin Smith rarely looked uncomfortable, but he looked it now.
"I ordered them to throw her body from the wagon, saying that there wasn't anything special about it." These bodies aren't special somehow, those had been his words. He'd turned in time to see her body fly into the air, golden-red hair fluttering around her face. He'd listened to the thud of her corpse as it hit the ground.
She'd taken him into her body, his first lover. When he'd slid into her that first time, he'd thought she was a goddess.
These aren't special, somehow.
"She was the only woman I ever…and I did that to her. Is that objective enough?" he rasped.
"Levi. I'm so sorry." He said it with his usual coolness, but Levi could read the glint in those eyes, the slight arch of the brows. Erwin meant it.
"So here's my question. The big one." He pushed off the door, strode forward. "If I'd told you she was my lover, if you knew she was mine when we were on the expedition…would you have ordered me to replenish my gas and blades?"
Erwin didn't even pause. "Yes."
Levi closed his eyes. He nodded. "Good. Good. That's the only answer I'd accept."
"I'm pleased but admittedly surprised to hear that."
"Are you?" Levi looked at his Commander. "Both because it proves you're honest, and because if you'd made an exception for me it'd prove you're soft. Prove you don't have humanity's best interest as your only concern. You'd be the same as all those weak, grasping assholes in the interior, looking out for your own." He placed his hands on the desk, gazed up in near awe. "Erwin. Thanks. It's the only way her death has meaning."
Erwin nodded. "Then you're welcome. Sit down. Better yet, lie down. Have you eaten?"
"I'm fine."
"I'll order the kitchens to—"
"Don't be a damn nursemaid, I'm fine. I need to sleep."
Erwin moved around the desk, the candle nearly guttering in his passage. His large, beefy hand clasped Levi's shoulder for one instant, and then he was gone. The door shut behind him. Levi limped to the desk, sat back in his chair. He watched the candle flame, now mostly blue and small. It was about to go out. He should get another light. He should go to sleep.
If they'd all survived, maybe he and Petra would be privately agreeing right now that their status as commander and subordinate mattered more than being lovers. He'd masturbate frantically, disappointed but resigned. Or maybe she'd have agreed to transfer to Hange or Mike, bid goodbye to her squadmates so the two of them could keep up the relationship.
Or maybe she'd be heading home to her father, dressed in civilian clothes, telling him that she was going to devote her life to Humanity's Strongest but in a different way. Maybe she'd have wanted those dresses and that life behind Wall Sina, waiting by the window for him to come home.
He'd never know now. It would always be a what-if.
"I should go to sleep," he murmured. He was so tired. He closed his eyes, the pain sharp in his chest. At least he had the memories. At least he could recall the way she felt, the way she tasted. Maybe one day he'd find her body out on that road and bring her home.
At least when the sun rose it would be red and golden, like her hair.
He opened his eyes and stood, gazed down. In the flickering candlelight, he imagined he saw her gazing back up at him. Smashed against that tree. Her amber eyes listless, blood smeared across her face, her red-gold hair swaying in the wind.
And Levi finally understood what he'd been running from tonight.
What had he felt when he saw her like that? Horror. Anger. Guilt. Despair. Fury.
And…
Relief.
He'd been relieved.
Not because he wanted her dead, but because every good thing in his life, everything and everyone he loved was eventually taken from him. His mother. Furlan and Isabel. Now Petra.
It's over now, he'd thought. You don't have to worry anymore about when it's going to happen. It's happened.
Relief because now he didn't have to watch the love and admiration dim in her eyes as the years passed, as she saw he wasn't the hero she wanted him to be, as she discovered what a broken, misshapen thing he was. She'd sigh, bitter because she'd given up her career and freedom for a shriveled gnome with a broken soul. She could do better than him.
She'd know it, too.
Now, at least, he got to keep the perfect memories of their time together, untainted (except for a couple of ugly scenes) by bitterness. She'd died thinking of him as her great love, her hero. He got to keep her forever fresh and beautiful in his heart.
He was so fucked and ugly that he could only really love her when she was gone.
Levi sank back into the chair and leaned over, head in his hands. Cry. Cry for her, you bastard. Feel something normal for once in your life.
He tried, but the tears wouldn't come. He would have ruined her life. At least she'd died before he could disappoint her.
"Never again," he muttered. He'd never take another lover. He'd never inflict himself on any other woman. Petra Ral's short, disappointing life would have some meaning. She'd save some other poor unfortunate from his worthlessness.
Levi sat up and stared at the candle. It was almost out.
"I should go to sleep," he said again.
When the candle extinguished with a hiss and a plume of smoke, Levi sat in his chair and stared into the blackness, unmoving for the rest of the night. He did not sleep. He did not light another candle.
The dawn was gray.