Fandom: Attack on Titan. Main pairing: Levi x Eren, hints of Jean x Eren. Warning: This story contains extreme violence (physical and verbal abuse), and eventually there will be smut. I do not own AoT or the song used.

XXX

I can't believe I could've been so blind,
but love is strange.
I thought about it for a long, long time,
but the truth remains.
I don't need another lonely night
to dry my tears.
The answer's plain as black and white,
but I can see the picture very clear.

xoxo

In public, they seemed to be the perfect couple.

Always holding hands, stealing quick kisses and loving looks were always exchanged. Normally, neither one was left alone, but if for any reason they were, it was never for long. Doors were held open for the younger of the two, compliments and sentimental words were given, voices were never raised. To every person on the outside looking in saw nothing strange going on between them. They were perfect for each other. Too perfect. No flaws. No odd quirks. No lashing out.

Behind closed doors, everything fell apart.

Yelling and screaming filled the air, fists were raised and cruel words were spat. Punches and kicks were felt, tears were shed and apologies were given. Insults flew and stung like salt on a deep cut, a young heart was broken and dreams were shattered into a million tiny pieces. Pictures once hanging on the walls or sitting on tables were thrown across the room or tossed to the floor, each crash loud and cringe-worthy. Doors were slammed, chairs were knocked over and tables were over-turned. Death threats were yelled, fingers were pointed and the younger of the two was beaten into submission. Usually, the threats and vulgar words sliced through the air all night, and the younger man hardly slept. On particularly bad nights, though, the older of the two walked out, slamming the door behind him. Sometimes he stayed away for days, even weeks. But as soon as he stepped foot into the home the two shared, the fights ensued like an all-out war. The arguments that had once been thought to be over and done with started anew, and nothing was ever resolved.

The younger man was scared for his life, always hoping and wishing that things would change for the better. Part of him wanted to leave. To get away from the only man he had ever loved and finally be free from the constant anger and sadness. The constant fear of doing something wrong and only making the fights worse. The never-ending nights of sitting alone on the cold, hard floor in one of the two bathrooms and crying into the silence. Of wrapping arms around himself in order to feel some kind of warmth on cold nights when his boyfriend walked out on him. He had no family left. He was forbidden from having any friends. His phone had been taken away from him, however, he still had his laptop. But any site that was deemed inappropriate or any site that allowed for talking to people had been blocked, and the sites he did get on were strictly monitored. He now had no say in any aspect of his life except how he dressed. Being in such a controlling relationship was hard, but no matter what he was put through, he couldn't leave. There was nowhere for him to go if the time came for it. If he said something out of line, he was punched in the stomach. If he dropped a dish or spilled something on the floor, he was burned by the small metal piece of a lighter. If he so much as spit in his boyfriend's direction...needless to say, things got messy. He was never hit on the face. No, all his scars and bruises were covered by the clothing he wore. It wasn't up to him. They always put on an act of civility for any public area, so nobody would suspect anything foul going on. As soon as they returned home, the fighting started up again. And there was no one he could tell. Nothing he could do.

Things had never been this bad. The start of the relationship had been blissful and...perfect. It was your typical love-at-first-sight kind of thing. Where the sun rose and set on him. Nothing he ever did was wrong, he was showered with gifts and kind, loving words. He even had friends. And the night he had finally lost his virginity to the man of his dreams had been memorable in every aspect of the word. All of that was within the first year. And things were going great.

But with the second year...

Everything went to hell.

xxx

December 31st, 2014

10:45 p.m.

They had been invited to a New Year's party at a friend's house. It was a pretty big party, with groups of people lounging against walls and chatting amongst themselves, plenty of alcohol going around and food enough to feed a small army. Loud music played in the background mixing with the yells and laughs of over-inebriated guests, and who knew what was going on in the few bedrooms upstairs. Just a normal party.

Eren looked up from the book he had been casually flipping through at the sound of his name being called. His eyes landed on his best friend, who seemed to be plastered drunk because he was staggering through the room pointing his finger and grinning widely as he came to a stop in front of the younger man. Eren giggled at the sight before him. Blond hair a wild-looking mess, cheeks stained with pink, and eyes glazed over from the alcohol swirling around in his stomach. "Armin, don't you think you've had enough? And I thought you drove here, how will you get home?"

Armin hiccuped and swayed, nearly losing his balance. He held a hand up for a moment and tried to speak. "Idon'needa...hic. Mi..Mikas-" The rest was slurred together but he did manage to point a finger somewhere behind him. Eren followed the gesture with his eyes until he caught sight of Mikasa leaning against a wall talking to some blond girl. Getting the hint, he smiled and pulled Armin down beside him. If he could keep his older friend from drinking anymore, he most certainly would. There was no need for him to get so drunk that he barfed up everything he ate in the last few days.

Eren sighed, completely bored because the one person he hoped he would be spending time with wasn't there. Well, he was there, but not in the sense that Eren wanted him to be. They had arrived at the party about an hour and a half ago, and Jean went straight to drinking with his buddies. Eren was only 20, so he couldn't drink. Not that he would want to. The alcohol all smelled the same and produced the same results: Drunken rambling and fist fights. He hoped Jean had enough sense in him to stop drinking just enough that they could share their first kiss of the second year they would be together. Eren met Jean at a party like this exactly one year ago, and they had both been smitten. Jean had approached Eren and they immediately fell into a deep conversation. They talked for hours, about any and everything. Eren had instantly liked Jean's sense of humor and the way he talked. The older man had a slight German accent, and each time he spoke, Eren melted. Jean had called Eren the day after the party and asked him on a real date, to which Eren happily agreed. Things went smoothly from there. Until about five months into the relationship, when Eren lost his parents. They had died in a car accident, and Eren had fallen into a deep depression. Sure, it still hurt, but Eren was pulled from his funk when Jean had all but demanded that Eren move in with him. After about a month of living together, Eren had consented to losing his virginity.

Eren was the happiest he had ever been, but little did he know, things were going to get a lot worse real soon.

11:15 p.m.

Armin had fallen asleep, his head now resting against Eren's right shoulder as he slept away the alcohol in his system. Eren still hadn't seen Jean, and he was beginning to worry that his boyfriend would be too drunk to function properly. He had been thinking about looking for him to say he was going to take Armin home so the blond man could sleep in his own bed and not on somebody's couch. As soon as he shifted to push the heat of Armin's body away from him, a gruff voice startled him.

"Hey, kid, what are you doing over here all by yourself?"

Eren jumped, and Armin grunted in his sleep. "Huh?" The man that had approached him was tall, freakishly so, had short blond hair parted in the middle and swept to each side and shaved in the back, thick eyebrows rested over piercing blue eyes that raked over Eren before settling back on his face. He was broad shouldered, and dressed in a white short sleeved t-shirt, faded blue jeans ripped at the knees hugged his long legs and shiny, black leather shoes adorned his feet. There was no doubt this man was attractive, but he oozed a ridiculous amount of intimidation, which had Eren squirming uncomfortably. "Um, no. I mean, I'm not here by myself. I'm with my boyfriend."

The man smiled, a predatory smile, and flicked his eyes over to the lump sleeping on Eren's shoulder. "That your boyfriend there?"

Eren shuddered. "Ha, no. This is my best friend, Armin. He just...drank a bit too much. I was actually about to go find my boyfriend to tell him I'm taking Armin home when you came over."

"Hoh, I see." The man shifted his feet and stood up straight, taking a quick drink from his cup. As he swallowed, he leaned down, causing Eren to fidget from the man's close proximity. "What if I said I wanted to get to know you better? In my eyes, your boyfriend doesn't care that you're over here while he gets shit-faced, so why don't you let me keep you company-"

"EREN! WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Eren gasped as Jean came stumbling into view, normally honey colored eyes now cloudy and gait stiff. Raw anger seemed to pour off him in waves, and Eren had to bite his tongue. Never, in all the time they had been dating, had he ever seen Jean this angry. Hell, he couldn't even remember a time when the man had been anything but chipper and laughing at his own jokes. What on Earth had him so mad all of a sudden? Then he realized how it must have looked to Jean, him sitting on the couch with some stranger hovering over him. He quickly tried to hide his fear as he spoke. "Jean, I was getting ready to come look for you. I need to take Armin home-"

"Oh, fuck that! That's not what it fucking looked like to me!"

Eren cringed at Jean's voice. His anger. It took him a moment to realize that Jean's finger was now pointed in the blond guy's face, and they were yelling back and forth. By now, Armin was wide awake and clinging to Eren's shirt like the couch was on fire. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He didn't even have a second to blink as he was pulled off the couch by his wrist and pulled to the door and out into the night.

xxx

"Stop fucking lying to me!"

"Jean, I'm not lying! I told you what happened, and how it happened. Why are you so angry-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Eren gasped and immediately took a step back. But Jean stepped towards him. Hands were balled into fists, eyes creased with anger and malice. Eren couldn't even brace himself for what happened next...

A large fist connected with his stomach making Eren double over and scream. He fell to his knees, clutching his stomach with both hands as he tried to make sense of what just happened. Before he could choke out a single word, a large, steel-toed boot rammed into his left side and he met the floor hard. White stars exploded behind his tear-filled eyes, and the last thing he saw before darkness consumed him, was Jean's angry face.

XXX

February 12th, 2015

4:35 a.m.

Eren lay awake, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness, the only light being the soft green glow from the alarm clock on the nightstand by his bed. He hardly slept anymore. Ever since that night at the new year's party...Jean had become distant. Eren was beaten for the smallest things. His chest, torso, stomach, sides, shoulders, back, upper thighs were all littered with old and fresh bruises, cuts that were just starting to heal, burn marks. He still didn't know what he had done to deserve anything like this. He hadn't seen or heard from Armin or Mikasa, or anyone else for that matter since...

Eren covered his eyes with both hands, crying silently into the cold, dark room. He was glad that the home he shared with Jean had two separate bedrooms, and had moved all his stuff into the vacant one to escape the fury that was his boyfriend. He missed Jean. Missed his tender kisses, his loving looks. Missed his soft caresses, his passion-filled voice when they made love. Eren didn't get to feel any of that anymore. All he ever felt now was sheer, unrelenting pain. When they were out together in public, Jean would give him half-assed smiles and would lightly touch his fingertips to Eren's hand for all of maybe one second. To others, they still looked like a happy couple. If only they knew that Eren and Jean were anything but. They had fought again. Hell, that's all they ever did nowadays. Jean still wouldn't allow Eren to have friends or talk to anyone, which was kind of difficult when it came to employment. Eren had managed to find work in an upscale, fancy type restaurant called The Red Rose, about five or so blocks away from the house. The only reason Jean hadn't forced Eren to quit, was because Eren worked in the back, washing dishes or taking out the trash. There was one person that found ways to talk to him, though not very much, and Eren could tell him anything. His name was Bertolt Hoover. He was older than Eren by a few years, had a kind, almost innocent face, short black hair that fell between and around his eyes, which were almost a light olive-green. Eren always looked forward to being at work away from Jean's wrath, and able to at least talk to someone who didn't contradict or ridicule him. Then there was the fancy restaurant's owner, Aruouo Bozado, who was young despite his appearance, had dirty-blond hair that was kept short around the sides and back, his bangs framing his forehead. He had small hazel eyes, and always wore a beige colored cravat with his uniform. Eren had only spoken to him at his interview, but the man insisted on coming in to check on him every now and then.

Eren sat up slowly, tears still falling down his cheeks as he stood up from the bed, leaning down to rifle through the bottom drawer of his dresser, looking for the specific item he had hidden there months ago. When he had the large, rectangular box in his hands, he sat heavily on the edge of his bed, rubbing one hand over the smooth wooden lid as tears welled in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Eren opened the lid with shaking hands, moved aside the flimsy piece of cloth, and let his eyes wander over the contents of the box. You see, Jean was a history buff. He collected many different items from different eras, but most of his collection was made up of old-fashioned weapons and war memorabilia. He had several muskets that were taken apart and cleaned daily, pistols and even several rapiers, as well as other swords from Renaissance times. But this particular item would have been the best addition to Jean's vast collection in Eren's eyes. Eren thought back to the day he and Jean had cuddled together in the living room to watch a German history marathon, and both had marveled at the weaponry the Nazi's used. There was one particular dagger that had Jean practically drooling. So when Eren had managed to find the exact dagger that they had seen on tv at a silent auction before his relationship had turned to hell, he quickly snatched it up.

So now here he sat, with the gift he had hidden from his boyfriend for several months. He was going to give it to Jean for Valentine's Day, which was two days away, but with recent events...he wasn't sure it was such a good idea. He pulled it from the box anyway before placing the box beside him, and held the exquisite weapon to his chest tightly. He allowed his eyes to slide shut for a moment, still holding the gift to his chest, and now more than ever his heart was aching. He placed the weapon back in its case and sat it on his table, then he went to his closet to find a notebook. When he found one, he stepped over to his desk and pulled out a pen to write a letter. Once that was done, new tears marring his face, he stood up and left his room, walked down the hall, and stopped outside Jean's room. The room they used to share. He took a deep breath and moved inside, knowing he wouldn't be caught since Jean had left several hours ago, placed the gift on Jean's bedside table, and then sat the note on top of the box. Eren held one hand over the letter for a moment longer before turning to leave the room.

xxx

February 12th

5:15 p.m.

Eren had just gotten off work and was looking forward to nice shower before making dinner, but as soon as he stepped foot inside the house, he was met with an irate Jean, who had been pacing back and forth in the living room. From the look on Jean's face, he knew things were going to get ugly. Again. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by his boyfriend's stern, angry voice.

"Don't. Even."

So Eren closed his mouth, trying desperately not to cry. That would only make things worse, if you could believe that. He knew by now that he only spoke when he was spoken to, or else he suffered the consequences.

"How many more times are we going to have to do this?"

Eren didn't know if the question was rhetorical, or if he should answer. Truthfully, he had no answer for that question. He always asked himself the same damn thing after every fight. Jean had only become worse since the party, and Eren truly wanted to know why he was being treated so badly, when just last year, they had been so in love. So inseparable. He lay awake many nights trying to figure Jean out, and wasn't any closer to getting any results. His eyes flicked to the floor as he angled his head downward slightly, if only to hide from Jean's cruel gaze, when a flash of light caught his attention. Eren choked back a sob. Jean was pointing a gun at his chest.

"You will fucking answer me when I ask you a damn question, Jeager."

Jean had never called Eren by his last name before, and the way he had said it stung like venom. Eyes wide, he took a small step back when he heard a soft click. "I-I...I don't know what you mean by that, Jean! You never talk to me about anything! Instead you-" He felt a tear slide down his cheek. "Instead, you choose to hurt me. And I don't know why."

Jean actually laughed at that. "You can't be that stupid."

"Jean-"

"SHUT UP!"

Eren zipped his lip. Jean had a gun, and he wasn't to eager for the man to use it. But Jean...he didn't even look like himself. Dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and he seemed to be struggling with his next words. Was this relationship really so bad that Jean felt the need to beat and humiliate him? To point a gun that was most likely loaded at his boyfriend without an once of shame or guilt or regret etched on his face?

Jean lowered the gun slightly, but his next words hurt more than anything he had ever said to Eren before. "Get out."

"W-what?! Jean, please. Let me help you-"

The gun was pointed straight at Eren's face now, and Jean was slowly moving closer, sheer rage masking any other emotions he had once had for the younger man. "I SAID LEAVE!"

Eren froze. Tears started fresh and stung his eyes. This was it then. Jean didn't want him anymore. If Jean wanted him gone so bad, then fine. Eren wouldn't argue anymore. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel, pulled the door open, and disappeared into the night.

xxx

February 12th

8:03 p.m.

Jean was a wreck. He couldn't believe that he had actually allowed things between himself and the love of his life to get so out of hand. It wasn't as if he wanted to do it... He never wanted to give Eren up for anything. It's just that something had happened recently, and Jean just hadn't been able to tell Eren the truth. The reasons he was being abused and pushed away. Hell, he refused to tell himself. He just wanted Eren to be happy, and if he had told the younger man what was going on, he would've been heartbroken. Eren was the type to never let something so serious go, and would have demanded that they go to someone for help. Jean just couldn't bring himself to tell his boyfriend, and risk seeing the hurt expression on his face when he found out there was nothing they could do. The damage was irreversible.

So instead of just telling Eren the relationship was over, Jean had become abusive, hoping that Eren would stop loving him. Praying that Eren would would hate him so that he wouldn't miss the older man. But Jean had gone and done something that he already regretted. He had pulled a gun on Eren. He could see the fear and love and confusion all mixed together on the younger man's face as a silver and black Desert Eagle was pointed at his chest. Jean hadn't even cried. He just stood there, weapon in hand, hoping Eren would just leave.

And he had.

So now Jean stood in the middle of the living room, gun forgotten on the floor as he stared, unblinking, at the door that Eren had escaped through. Everything hit him all at once, and he crumpled to the floor as he tried and failed to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. He allowed them to drip from his wide eyes onto his knees. He never wanted this relationship to end, but it had blown up because he couldn't find the courage to tell Eren the truth. The reason he was so carelessly pushed away. Jean stood up shakily and moved sluggishly to his bedroom. The room he had once shared with his boyfriend. He paused in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before stepping forward. Something caught his eye in his peripheral vision, so he ambled his way to the bedside table where he saw a neatly written note on top of a box of some kind. He turned on his lamp, and upon recognizing the beautiful handwriting, he snatched up the note and read through tear-filled eyes.

'Jean...

I don't even know where to begin. I don't know what happened to make you do these things to me, and I don't know why I let it happen. Maybe it's because I loved you and hoped that you would be your normal self again. You never told me anything unless it was threats or accusations towards me. Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I know it's too late now, but I still wanted to let you know. It breaks my heart that our relationship turned to shit, and now I'm forced to write this note.

Anyway, this box is for you. I was saving it for Valentine's Day, and I wanted more than anything to see your face when you opened it. But now I know that I can't be here when you do. Just always remember that no matter where I am, I will always love you.

-Eren'

Jean dropped the note and slowly picked up the box. He held it for a moment before pulling the lid open and pushing aside the thin piece of cloth. He gasped.

An authentic Damascus 2nd Model Luftwaffe Dagger was nestled in red satin. After fumbling with the lamp on his table to angle it upward, Jean picked the weapon up to look more intently at the exquisite detail, from the rosebud and maiden hair pattern and the deep orange celluloid grip, to the fine hand-detailed upper and lower grip fittings, which were aluminum with a beautiful grey background burnishing, and the swastikas on the pommel looked like they were fired guilt. The top of the lower cross guard had fine oak leaf hand detailing, and the lower grip ring was plated silver. Jean stared in awe. There were no nicks or worn spots anywhere. Eager to see if the blade itself was in such pristine condition, he removed it from its scabbard. The blade was just as perfect as the rest of it. No rust, chips, cracks. Nothing but the fine etching detail that resembled small swirls. He replaced the blade in its scabbard.

He couldn't bring himself to do more than stare at the gift in his hands, and his heart broke all over again. Clutching the dagger to his chest, Jean sank to his knees and screamed.