"Don't judge a book by its cover."

Hating cliché idioms did not change the centuries old truth embedded in them. Fuck. Why did he think his thirteenth interview since spring would be any different than the first twelve? Even the superstitions were blaring about how awful this particular one would be, for God's sake, it even took place on the thirteenth of September on a Friday, of all days. Yes, the Fates had already told me quite clearly that this would suck. Why did I think otherwise?

Because she had smiled. She had smiled with joy that could only belong to a princess and friendliness exuding from her voice could only belong to a fairy. So he had thought that perhaps, perhaps just this time he had hit the jackpot. Finally, a laidback interviewer who would give him the chance he so desperately desired. Alas, after the initial getting-to-know-each-other and "here's our sales pitch" part, the young woman's face changed that of a true superior and business insider. Her tongue sharp, comebacks witty, knowledge excellent, and gaze confident. She pretty much grilled Eren and considering the increase in his body temperature, it might not have been only metaphorical. When she had finalised the interview and uttered those well-known words of doom, "we'll contact you", Eren was already aware of how this would go. Hint: he would not be contacted.

Interestingly, he was contacted.

So maybe he had judged the book correctly and maybe superstitions were indeed just that… superstitions. Unlike his previous twelve interviews which led to no response at all or unpaid internship opportunities because you know, sure, you can pay your rent and feed your hungry stomach with "excellent industry experience" and "perfect opportunity to improve your leadership skills"; fuck capitalism, really, fuck. But those days of failure were behind him; now he was successful. Now he was hired. Now he had health insurance with dental and hundred bucks a month for "gym and other healthy living necessities". Hell yeah. That's what a grown-up's life should be like! Or at least he supposed so. Technically, he had been a 'grown-up' for a couple of years now but also technically he was mooching off Mikasa's pro-athlete salary to pay the rent and had dinners composed of only cup-ramen. Thank God, those days were over. In fact, he prepared a list of things he would do the moment he got his first pay, sorted in the order of priority:

Go to a restaurant and have a bigass steak. Buy a whole watermelon all for yourself. Drink a venti pumpkin spice latte. Order that Spider-Man limited edition t-shirt. Pay the rent all by yourself.

Okay, so perhaps he was a little too focused on his diet but it was only because he was especially hurt in that aspect. The last time, for instance, he drank any overpriced-but-also-overdelicious coffee was three months ago after his break-up; that medium sized caramel macchiato Armin had blessed him with during the (unfortunately) usual post-break-up open heart surgery, in hopes of motivating him to let go… And he had. Thankfully, it had ended before he was in too deep and here he was employed for a position he loved and longed for in one of the best companies out there.

His life had suddenly taken a turn for "too perfect" and he had this nagging feeling inside saying that something would go wrong because something would have to go wrong because life could not possibly be oh so fine. But he muted that sneaky little party pooper and instead went on a small shopping spree for clothes with what his tiny savings could afford. Sure Petra – the angel of joy whom he had later mistaken as angel of death but restored back as the angel of joy the moment she called with the good news – had told him that their office didn't have a dress code, but it did not mean he could go with old band tees and tattered jeans. "Smart casual it is," he thought because (a) he was smart, and (b) he wanted to be casual. Not too stuffy, office-y feel-y but not deadbeat-looking either. It's perfect.

Hence there he was on that glorious day of Monday – the first Monday he has ever appreciated in his life – walking the halls of the Survey Publishing's stylish building, employee card already attached to a lanyard which hung loosely around his neck (it felt like the best accessory he had worn in a long time). He was wearing a light grey button up with first two buttons undone, a lush green sweater that worked well with his eyes, and a nice slim fit pair of dark grey slacks. He was smart. He was casual. He was employed. He was a winner.

His cubicle was not small, if not spacious, and most importantly its walls were just the right size: they provided the much needed privacy in such an open office area, but not too tall to make him feel prisoned. Petra let him to himself, asking him to setup his corporate network account following the IT guideline sheet and getting used to his office space. Apparently his training would start the next day but Petra recommended him to go through the social network of the company, create his profile, and check out some of the "new hire" manuals. It was all good and fun… okay, not so much fun; it was boring as hell but that was normal and the hype of days to come never truly left him.

Because he had thought that he would never reach here. He had always been a confident individual, but no ego can endure six years of university education and then jobless six months mocking your MA degree as you consecutively fail every job interview. As his friends started moving away to secure jobs, some forming families with their beloveds, others buying new cars or fuck even apartments… and he did not even have a cat. Insecurity was inevitable and he had tasted it in all its characteristic bitterness and vomited, again and again, attempting his best at self-motivation as some kind of a home remedy against the clutches of the deathly self-doubt. But it had passed. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly; focus on the now Eren, you lucky bastard, focus on the now, the moment. Because it had passed and here he was now, everything would be per—

"Hey Eren! Look who I have here… Our Managing Editor: Levi Ackerman! He was on a business trip to Australia that's why he wasn't around when we interviewed you but he just came back and I wanted you to meet him."

Oh you could run away from the claws of cruel fate so far, after all, she would eventually find you and fuck you sideways.

His face contorted in an amalgamation of shock and horror as he saw the man who he had once broken up with (or had been dumped by, depended on how you looked at it). Fucking vampire. It must have been… five? Yes, yes, five years or so. Yet the man looked almost the same, though the dark patches under his eyes were obviously larger and darker, his visage seemed not a year older than twenty-five still. His lean figure seemed even stronger and sturdier than before, his hair cut in the same crisp style with the exact undercut, inky locks on the front neatly split and perfectly combed. The same button nose Eren had once peppered with tiny kisses, the same defined cheekbones and the pale complexion that he complained so much of during summer, "because I get burnt and turn into a fucking tomato of all things Eren, not everyone's skin makes love to the Sun like yours", he had once said, so eloquently. Eren did not realise he was gaping (and staring) until Petra literally poked him with her finger on the shoulder,

"Eren?"

"Huh? Ah? Oh? Ooh. Petra. And… Levi… I—I mean… Mr. Ackerman?"

Levi raised an eyebrow and Eren started internally begging to any gods or goddesses out there that he would not be jobless again by the end of the day. He really wanted to have that steak. Also being able to pay the rent without worry would be great. At least for this one month.

"Do you two… perhaps know each other?" Petra asked.

Well if you count having shoved each other's dicks into each other's various holes, yeah, quite intimately—Eren mused internally. There was no way he was saying that; though in the odd chance that Levi's humour stayed as it had been (which was very unlikely, he did not think the man in front of him, impeccably dressed in a suit and went on international business trips would stick with crude humour of his youth), the man would actually appreciate the description.

"You could say that," Levi said thoughtfully and Eren painfully realised once again just how much he loved the man's confident, low voice. "Eren," he mumbled than, his finger pointing towards the office room at the corner, "come with me for a second."

As Eren followed meekly behind Levi's steps, he continued with his soundless prayers. He could not… he could not afford to lose this job… especially for a reason like this? No way. So the moment they entered the room and Eren closed the door, he started running his mouth in partial panic and with a lot of determination,

"I'm not quitting. Seriously. I got accepted all fair and square… as far as I know at least and this is literally my dream job so if you think—"

"Eren."

He lifted his face to look at Levi who was now sitting on a leather chair which was strangely high, giving the impression as if the short man was tall. Eren swallowed. Levi rested both his elbows on the desk, his hands coming together, his fingers entangling with each other and he looked on sharply, a glint of interest undeniable in his eyes,

"Do you think I'm the kind of person who would let my personal matters or feelings affect my professional decisions?"

"Um… no."

"Based on your perception so far – because it seems she was your main recruiter, does Petra look like such a person?"

"Nope?"

"What about Hanji? Apparently they did your phone interview?"

"I didn't talk with them much but… They were kind of… I don't know, maybe they would?"

"Probably, actually. They can be quite… passionate. Good thing that you'll be working in my team then."

Eren breathed a sigh of relief and gave a hesitant smile, to which Levi only unclasped his hands and scratched the side of his head, leaning to one side slightly,

"It is curious though… I thought you would be more interested in Hanji's stuff. Were you planning to switch in the future? Because that will definitely be a problem."

"Ah no… I'm not. I specifically applied for the non-fiction department."

"Huh? I thought you adored fiction?"

"Yeah, when I was eighteen. I mean… I still love it, but it's not my professional preference now."

He thought that Levi would perhaps feel troubled to mention the past but seeing the older man acknowledge it so easily had caused him to feel rather bitter; perhaps that was the reason why he enunciated his age then so clearly. Was he hoping he would ruffle Levi's feathers like this? Age had always been a concern for his older lover… Ex-lover. Damn it. Ex. Ex. Ex. He is your ex. As in the past. As in 'the person formerly known as your lover'.

Howbeit, it didn't seem to perturb the man at all now; Levi simply nodded his head and then turned his attention to the screen of his sleek mac. Damn rich people and their silver, super-thin macs. Wait, is Levi rich now? He sure looks it. Fuck. 'Winner' my ass, look at him Eren, he is still way ahead of you. You're just starting to be an adult and he is… already excellent at it. Sure he had a head start, but he was fucking awesome even when he was your age. He had four scholarships in his hands and you had a stupid fast food job. But wait, what the heck is he doing in publishing industry and not angrily yelling at students in fancy lecture halls?!

"Eren?"

He woke up from his whirlpool of thoughts to Levi's calm and questioning tone.

"Um, yeah?"

"Why are you still standing there?"

"Huh?"

"It is done. I just wanted to assure you that our personal past would not be an issue. You can get the fuck out now."

Oh. Well at least his mouth is as elegant as before. Arsehole.

Eren nodded awkwardly and hurried out of the room as if he was running away from the plague. It was not an exaggeration considering Levi's effect on him. When he arrived back to his cubicle, Petra was leaning to his desk from the side and scrutinising him with narrowed eyes.

"Um…"

"Don't 'um' me. I know that kind of panic. So you two have a history?"

"Well…"

Oh no. Is this gonna be a problem? Don't tell me she has a crush on Levi or something. But I mean… She never seemed like a person who would mix business and pleasure so I thought—Oh shit, what if—

"Oh this is so good. I was starting to believe his workaholism was killing his love life but at least it wasn't as barren as I thought huh? Since he scored you. I mean, I've got a boyfriend and all, but you're one cute cookie."

"Thanks? It was a long time ago anyway…"

"Long time ago? Really?"

"Yeah… a couple of years."

Petra's eyes widened and Eren bit his tongue… Okay. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that.

"How old… are you again?"

"Twenty-four…"

"Oh…"

"It was about five years ago…"

"So you were nineteen…"

"Well, technically eighteen when we started."

"Oh…"

They stood there each looking around nervously to avoid staring at each other. Then Petra started trembling slightly… then she snorted… then cackled. Finally she was laughing uncontrollably.

"He was a cradle robber!"

"Please Petra, look, he might murder you for real if he hears that okay? Age thing… was a big problem. At least then. I mean, I wasn't a kid for god's sake. I don't know what's the problem…"

This apparently only caused Petra to laugh harder; but at least she covered her mouth with her hands, partially successful attempts at stifling the sound.

Eren sighed exasperatedly and plopped himself on his chair, hands covering his face, grimly wondering just how worse could his day get… Was he even going to manage to work a day before getting fired by Levi? Maybe he would survive a week. Or two at best? I really hope at least two weeks so that I get one pay cheque. I need that fuckin' steak.

"Petra, my favourite gal, why are you laughing your ass off? And why does our young blood look… so old? Let me guess, you made him meet the Lord of Grump finally?"

Hanji grinned large and toothy but was taken aback when Petra only chortled loudly at their questions. They gave a bemused look at Eren, who simply dropped his head face first onto his desk and groaned.

Fuck, I'm definitely not surviving even the day.