The candles were burning low now. Petra knew she had to hurry up. The corporal would likely be in bed by now, and if he caught one of his squad sneaking back into bed so late, he wouldn't be pleased. One could never know when the Recon corps may need to be called away on an unexpected mission.
Petra carefully dusted her letters with sand and put away the ink. Maybe she would manage to get to sleep before midnight after all. The drawer creaked loudly as she shut it, and the sound bounced through the empty room.
She paused to glance out the window and admired the silver moonlight sneaking into the common room. It was always so damn quiet at this hour.
There was no one to accompany her now, just her letters and the cold moon. Her silly letters. Her father only ever heard of her rosy little stories. It would do no good to tell him that with each rise in rank her chances of ever coming home grew slimmer. Not when he worried so much already. No use in writing that she felt as though she was marooned on some desert island, always sending out notes in bottles that would disappear over the horizon, not a ship in sight.
God, she missed the trainee days. Missed having a warm hand to hold, a friendly ear to receive her hushed secrets. But all those hands had grown cold now, those ears would never hear again.
She always got a little too morbid at night.
She shook her head and carefully folded her papers, tucking them into an envelope and dropping it with the pile of letters her fellow scouts had written. Candlestick in hand, she left the window side desk and imagined herself fast asleep in her warm cot. At the door to the common area, Petra removed her boots and tucked them under her arm, always careful not to wake her comrades.
The HQ was pitch black now and every creak of the floorboard resounded endlessly, as though they were both leading and following Petra through the halls. She lifted her candlestick higher, squinting past the flame but not seeing much of anything. She used her muscle memory to turn left at the end of the corridor, finally nearing her destination.
Her trek stopped abruptly at the open door of Corporal Levi's room. There must have been five candles lit, spilling light into the hallway. Glancing into the room, Petra felt lured like a moth to the flame.
Her squad leader was awake, but already in his bed clothes. Hanji Zoe was facing him, leaning back in his chair, both feet propped up on the desk. Remarkably, she still had her boots on. Petra nearly snorted at the sight. Surely the corporal would have something to say about it if one of his subordinates was caught doing such a thing.
Hanji was flipping through what must have been her notes on the titans. Petra knew they couldn't possibly be Levi's reports. The papers were mottled with coffee and wine, edges tattered and ink smeared.
There was a comfortable silence in the room although neither soldier was looking at the other. He was gripping Hanji's glasses in his hand, his fingers curled around the lenses. They were the ones she wore into battle, with goggle straps. There was an odd intimacy in the detail. Hanji always kept those glasses on her person.
"Maybe the bastards are literally full of hot air. They don't even have brains, they're just steam powered people eaters."
Petra had been staring in silence so intensely that she felt a jolt when Levi finally spoke.
His voice was heavy with exhaustion. He was lying on his back on his bed, covering his eyes with one arm. Petra couldn't think of a time she'd seen him look so vulnerable.
There was a small silence after he spoke, and Hanji shifted her gaze from her notes to the man on the bed.
"Yeah, we should definitely leave the crazy experiments to me. You stick to the house keeping."
Under the flicker of candlelight, Petra could see a smile pull at the corporal's mouth, and he brought his arm down to his side, looking Hanji in the face. Petra wondered if she would have ever recognized that peculiar expression as a smile on anyone else. It was the faintest trace of one, but it was bold as day on her superior's face. He never really did smile, did he? At least not with his squad. No. Not with her.
"Get the fuck out of my room Zoe. I need to sleep."
Levi's command went ignored. Hanji put her feet back on the ground and rested her chin on her hand.
"Ahhh, I hope we manage to catch a Titan next time we head out."
The woman sounded near lovestruck. Her back was turned to Petra, but the blonde could easily imagine the expression that must have been on Hanji's face. It nearly always happened whenever Hanji thought about capturing a titan to experiment on. Gleaming eyes, rosy cheeks and that huge, goofy grin.
"Ey, maybe I'll let you test out your steam-power theory, Levi."
The corporal opened his mouth to speak.
Hot wax rolled over Petra's hand and snapped her out of her trance. Her candle was melted into a misshapen stump. She felt a furious shame at having eavesdropped and nearly ran down the corridor into her room, where her comrades were already fast asleep. Once again, the chill of solitude grasped at her, and she burrowed herself under her sheets.
She just couldn't wrap her head around it. Every smile, every greeting, every cup of coffee barely seemed to affect the corporal's disposition towards her. Not that he disliked her. If anything he always treated her with respect.
But Hanji. He would smile at her. And touch her. Petra felt stupid. She wanted to yell at herself for the electric surge that rushed through her every time Levi would tug at Hanji's ponytail, or raise his eyebrow as though he could speak with her through looks alone. She knew the Corporal wasn't in love with Hanji. He was too consumed with his mission to eradicate the titans. But she wasn't even so sure if it was love she desired from her leader.
No, Petra didn't want the world. She just wanted what those two shared back in his room. She wanted a home.
In all the months she'd spent with the Corporal, had their skin ever made contact? Of all her fantasies, her strongest had to be of him regarding her as a friend. As more than his subordinate. She wanted him to expose his belly to her, she wanted to let him see hers.
What she would give to have him give her that half smirk she'd seen back in his bedroom.
A warm hand. A friendly ear. That was all she wanted. For someone to catch all those thoughts that got lost between her pen and the paper. She needed him to know her before it was too late. She needed someone to remember her when her father was gone.
But that was foolish. No. She would get herself some rest, and in the morning she would rise and make everyone their coffee. The corporal would give his thanks and that would have to be it. It would be enough.
This was my first SNK fic :)