White.

Is it vulnerability? Purity? The light at the end of the tunnel? Whatever it is, Eren hated it. Because no matter what form or metaphor it is attached to, the color white is always blank, always colorless. Always too delicate, too destructible, too insubstantial. Eren's world is white—untainted, bright, and empty.

Despite it all, he let out a happy laugh as he spun with his arms outstretched, palms catching as many snowflakes as he could, face upturned to face the sky and watch as the snowflakes spiraled down. The white tipped his eyelashes and brought out the red tint of his nose and cheeks. It landed on his palms and on the outstretched tips of his fingers and dissolved to slip through the gaps in his fingers as his unshed tears.

If Levi thought there was anything worth saving, it was Eren's smile.

Idiot. You'll never catch snowflakes like that. They'll melt.

Levi sat on the swings nearby with his hands in his pockets, idly nudging the ground with his toe as he watched as Eren obliviously spun himself dizzy and land with a thwump on the ground, a hopeless disarray of giggles and laughter.

But it was evident to Levi that it wasn't the warmth of Eren's skin that melted the snow. It was the sound of his laughter as he stared up at the sky, the soft, breathy chuckles sending warm, wispy puffs straight to that special place Levi could not name. Finally quieting down, Eren sat up and looked at Levi, the remnants of his laughter still in his eyes.

"Do you like the snow, Levi?"

Levi considered his answer as he watched the snow settle in a thin, dusty layer on Eren's always-messy chestnut hair, as they caught and weighed down the tips of his eyelashes, as they highlighted the red tint in his ears, as they brushed the shoulders of the jacket Levi had lent him because "Levi's jacket always feels warmer than mine!".

He scowled and looked away.

"Brat. You're going to catch cold. Put your gloves back on and let's go home."

Eren sighed and looked up once more at the sky, waiting for the ghosts of winter's touch to reach him. When the snow stung his cheeks, he closed his eyes and smiled, listening as Levi stood up and walked towards him, imagining that the rhythm of his footsteps was the same as the rhythm of his heart. Levi grabbed his hand and tugged him forward, and Eren fell in step beside him. Inside, his chest was an empty cavern, echoing and following Levi, always Levi, always always Levi…

After all, Eren's world is white. And the only reason why he had a heartbeat at all is because Levi brought to his world just the faintest tint of color.

He fought. And he fought hard. It didn't matter which way he turned, he was always being swallowed, dragged down, restrained by the roaring beast inside him. Darkness clung to his every move. It was pumped through his veins, networked across every train of thought, possessed him with every whim and thought.

Black.

Levi's world was never-ending darkness and blackness. It was trapped inside him, attached to him like hundred tonne weights. He had no way to release the tension, no way to express, no way to sort out or understand the swirling mass of messiness, blackness, dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty-

What does color bring? What is the green of envy, the blue of sadness, the red of anger, the deep violet of pain, the bright orange of surprise, the pink of embarrassment, the deep gold of pleasure, when it has nowhere to go?

It's black.

Whatever it is, Levi hated it. Levi's world is black, filled with too much for him to decipher, too much for his shoulders to bear, too much for his body to contain. Overwhelming to the point where black became the color for it all—for frustration, for bitterness, for rage. Levi's stoic mask is cold and emotionless because if he allowed it to crack he would be consumed in an unending inferno of emotions.

Yet there is one thing in this world that isn't tainted by darkness, that remains pure and untouched by the dirt and heavy soup of too much too much it's too much too much, one thing that reaches for him and pulls him up for air when he is drowning in a stew of everything everything there's too much of everything.

And that thing is Eren.

To Levi, Eren is a blinding whiteness that cleanses him and calms him. Eren effuses an exuberance that calms him and washes away the soot that clings to his insides. When Eren is there, he can see it all. The green of envy. The blue of sadness. The red of anger. The deep violet of pain. The pink of embarrassment. The deep gold of pleasure. Suddenly it all has a place to go, and that place is held clasped between their fingers, because everything he has, everything he is, is drawn to Eren Eren Eren always, always Eren…

Together, their world can flash with color.

If there is one thing Eren thought was worth living for, it's Levi's heart.

It surfaces randomly, quietly, and subtly. Like Levi, it doesn't show itself much. Sometimes it comes in the half-quirk of his lips, in the slight twitch of his fingers, in the nervous habit he has of tapping his desk. It comes out in the furrow of his brows, in the too-long showers, in the flash of his dark eyes.

For Eren, life is a vastness in which he floats aimlessly. Every which way he turns, there is a daunting emptiness. When Levi touches him, however, he can feel a current. He is pushed towards something, his fingers find that something at the other end of the lifeline is tugging, and as he follows it, as he follows Levi, he can faintly discern the silhouette of a blurry horizon. It blooms with every color imaginable and every color that is not. When he sees Levi, he can see that phantom horizon. He has been living in the muted unfeeling of whiteness for so long that his eyes are unable to understand everything he sees, but he tries. When Levi is there, Eren lives, just a little. When Levi is there, he generates a heartbeat. When Levi is there, Eren can wear his mask more convincingly.

Eren's mask is one of happiness and smiles because he is afraid that without it, the never ending whiteness will take over, and erase him.