Because I love this ship, this manga, this anime, and I felt the need to write something for it. And because Levi/Eren (or Eren/Levi) is quickly becoming one of my favorite OTPs, second to only Johnlock (or possibly third to the tied-for-second ships L/Light and Matt/Mello).

(I hope you enjoy, but I'm sorry if they are a little OOC; I'm new to writing for this fandom and in their voices.)

The first time Levi heard the song afterwards, he shuddered, sighed, and aggressively pressed the "dislike" thumb, sending the song into silence as Pandora awkwardly shuffled the memories away.

The second time he heard the song, he had changed his radio station (on one of the rare occasions he stopped to pollute his ears with radio garbage) because a whiny male voice wouldn't shut up about what he planned to buy his mother for Mother's Day. It was an honest mistake, switching the channel to the popular station, but a mistake nonetheless; Levi growled and shut the radio off.

The third, fourth, fifth, sixth times he heard the song, he couldn't do much of anything about it because he was in public, and, although his distaste for the upbeat tune and brazen voices were justified (and worth defending), his desire to slither through crowds and the general public reasonably undetected beat his revulsion.

No matter how many times he heard it, Levi's thoughts faded back to pulsing lights, encouraging jeers, fierce eyes blazing with contempt and challenge, and the sensation of hands wandering up and down as the two danced angrily to the crappy beat.

When Levi heard it again, after a month of blissful absence, he seriously considered locating the source of the sound and bashing it to bits with a crowbar. His hands clenched, his nails digging uncomfortably into his skin as he took a deep breath and released it silently. After a pause in front of one of the bookstore's towering shelves, Levi turned around and walked away without picking up the book he drove thirty minutes to buy.

Something about this time was different. Levi didn't know what it was, but the atmosphere remained tense even after the song faded away; usually he got over his discomfort fairly quickly. If he focused on it after the fact, it was always with petulance, annoyance, or slight anger (you'd think after a year and a half people would get sick of the song; it's not like there was anything spectacular about it), and those reactions he could shut down with a cold, painstakingly forged apathy. This time, there was no relief from his emotions; they didn't fade in the slightest.

Levi sighed harshly, focusing on the sound his boots made as they met the dark carpet, focusing on the soft smell of books, focusing on the towering shelves forming a strange pseudo-maze, focusing on anything but that song. He needed to get out of that store, that hellhole that dared to play such trash. What the fuck kind of a bookstore played music like that, anyways? Didn't they know—

"Are you okay, sir? You look—"

Levi spun around angrily, ignoring the warning sirens blaring in his head, ignoring the way the voice seemed to caress his ears, the way it seemed comforting and corrosive all at once. He opened his mouth to tell the man off, but he froze as his eyes met familiar, blue-green ones.

It seemed the man, the worker, fucking Eren Jeager, was equally shocked, stunned into silence.

Levi quickly composed himself, drawing his features into a bored scowl, burying his frantic emotions deep down, away from the disastrous situation.

"I'm fine," Levi droned as he stared at the tan, calloused hand that still hung in the air—a failed attempt to, what? Reach out to a man stalking away in the middle of the bookstore? That certainly didn't seem like something the Eren he knew would do. His eyes scanned the frozen male's form, and understanding dawned on him when he saw the name tag.

Of course he asked me that; it's a part of his job.

"O-oh," Eren stammered, carefully retracting his arm from the open air. "Well, you looked distressed, so..."

Eren let his words fall away, obviously lacking in effort to verbalize his urge to help a customer. On any other day, in a different circumstance, Levi might've pressed for more information than that, might've forced the boy to pick up his train of thought and express it fully, but he couldn't stop focusing on his movement, the way it made him think of that night, the way his hands, his arms, felt wrapped around him.

Just like that, snippets of the night fell into Levi's thoughts without permission, without regard for the completely inappropriate timing. His skin burned where hands once grasped and held; his whole body thrummed as it remembered the way it focused entirely upon Eren, the way nothing mattered that night but him, the way it felt to have the one person he'd ever held interest in past friendship return the sentiment with the same aggression and passion.

He couldn't stop staring at the damned hand, his body responding as though Eren had reached for reasons beyond professional obligation.

Levi raised an eyebrow. "I'm not distressed, brat."

Eren's hand fell from the air, returning to his side. Levi saw his hands clench, and he marveled at Eren's temper, how it could burst into flames at the slightest trigger, even at a poor reply.

"If anything, you're distressed." God damn it all, what am I, twelve?

Eren glared at Levi and shook his head. "Clearly, I made a mistake in trying to help you. I'm sorry that my job of coddling frazzled customers happened to interfere with your job of being a neurotic douche-bag."

Levi's eyes narrowed, and he barely suppressed the urge to kick the shit out of the brat. His heartbeat skyrocketed, and his skin crawled; his whole being wanted nothing more than to put Eren in his place, to make him lose his breath and concentration like he did to Levi, but he knew that all he wanted was an emotional outburst. Eren wanted Levi to fight back, to show emotion; Eren always hated Levi's apathy.

That abhorrence was partially what got them in this mess in the first place.

Their eyes were locked in a fierce glare, severed only on Levi's part, and only by a scoff and an eye-roll. Without another word, Levi strode calmly out of the store, allowing himself to clench his fists and allow anger to mar his features after he'd left the store and arrived at his apartment.

It was in the privacy of his own home that he allowed his walls to lower ever-so-slightly, just to the point where he could feel his turbulent emotions overwhelming his body, but not to the point where he could figure out whether his hands sought to caress the tanned skin or tear it to shreds in anger and shame.

The next time he heard the song, it was on Pandora, again, on a different station. His thumb wavered over the dislike button, before he forcefully pressed it and sighed in relief when the song changed.

If it wasn't for Petra, Levi wouldn't have gone within a five-mile radius of that damned book store, but she wanted more art supplies, and her favorite store just happened to be two down from his.

Of course, he refused her request as soon as she asked him. Levi wasn't about to put himself in a situation where he could run into the brat again—he didn't need that. He didn't want to see him; it was beyond nauseating. He loathed how easy it was to read Eren's emotions, once they stopped fluctuating.

He didn't need the brat's loathing shoved into his face, not then, not ever.

But Petra began begging, and Levi loathed her begging almost more than the brat. Normally, he would've let her beg until she fell into sulking, but she won him over. Reluctantly, Levi dragged himself to her car, and they drove to the art store.

As soon as they passed the bookstore, Levi's heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, and the horrible dread that fell over him didn't dissipate until they entered their desired store. Even then, he was constantly on edge, fearful that they would run into Eren on his break or something. Petra, thank God, was too busy focusing on sketchpads to notice, or acknowledge, his barely-concealed terror.

He knew it wouldn't have been obvious to anyone who knew him well—thankfully, very few people like that existed—but knowing that Petra (and Eren, should he appear) could see past his apathetic demeanor aggravated him, which made his terror all the more potent. If the brat appeared in the store, or in the parking lot, God knew what he would see, or misinterpret. Levi knew his slightly trembling hands, empty voice, and slipshod apathetic expression could be interpreted many ways; heaven forbid the brat think...

Petra cleared her throat, and Levi tore his gaze from the paintbrushes near the entrance.

"I'm ready to go if you are," she said, clutching her desired items, sending him a grateful smile for accompanying her. She'd always been adamant that Levi needed more interaction with the outside world.

Which was ridiculous, in Levi's opinion. "I'm ready," he replied, softening his voice ever-so-slightly. Ridiculous as it was, he appreciated her concern, even if it grated on his nerves most of the time.

Her smile widened into a grin, and they walked to the register. Again, Levi felt Eren's stare, his presence, but when he turned to look where he thought he felt it, there was nothing there. When they arrived, the cashier began scanning their items, casually talking to Petra. Levi refused to join the conversation, even when it was clear the horse-faced cashier wanted him to. He could sense his growing disapproval, but Petra smoothed things over quickly; they left with their desired items, the boy's stare following them out of the store.

Petra paused on the sidewalk, staring up at the cloudy sky, body tilted ever-so-slightly to face the dreaded bookstore.

Levi's heart froze, then quickened its pace painfully. Internally, he begged her not to ask about visiting the bookstore; if she did, he would have to explain himself, to tell her about that awful encounter, or he'd lie, something he was good at, but he always felt bad lying to her. His encounter with the brat was not something he wanted to talk about, but she would know something was wrong if she wanted to go and he refused. Levi was a bookworm; in a normal situation, nothing would prevent him from visiting a bookstore if the opportunity presented itself.

But he couldn't see Eren again, couldn't risk dealing with him a second time.

He pressed forward, acting like he hadn't noticed her subtle interest, all the while frantically composing a believable excuse for not going to the bookstore.

There was no need to do that, though; she followed him to her car without a word of protest.

Levi convinced himself it was relief, not disappointed remnants of anticipation, that flooded his veins when they pulled out of the parking lot without a glimpse of the brat.

After deciding Pandora wasn't a good choice for listening to music, Levi tried Spotify. He started a radio for an artist he'd held a passing interest in for years, after deciding he wanted a change from his usual music. So far, he liked his choice; he felt himself easing back into writing for the first time since...

As though conjured by his musings, that song began. Levi froze, disbelief raging in his mind. He opened Spotify, only to find that the artist had been featured in that particular song. Exasperated, he hovered over the "skip" button, but it wouldn't work—he already used the few he was given.

Levi sighed, turned the volume down slightly, and continued writing.

"LEEEEEEEEVI," Hanji shouted as they burst into Levi's apartment. "Did you forget about our plans?"

Levi's annoyance grew as he remembered their lunch plans for noon; glancing at the clock, he saw that it was nearing one-thirty. "I forgot."

Hanji's face drooped in an over-exaggerated frown. "We've been meeting up for lunch once a week for years, Levi. Something must've really distracted you..." They glanced around his living room, their eyes lighting up suddenly. "Did you spend the day cleaning out your closet?"

Levi rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't you have better things to do than jab at my sexuality, shitty glasses?"

"Ah, so you haven't seen it yet?" Hanji's features softened into a relaxed grin. "That's probably for the best. Say, Levi—"

"Seen what?"

"—you know, you should really make it up to me. Your absence wounded me."

"Hanji," Levi growled, "what did you do to my apartment?"

Their grin stretched from ear to ear, toothy and wide, and cold dread swept through Levi. "See for yourself, Mr. Recluse."

Levi scurried to his closet, preparing for the worst, and hesitantly opened the door. A cage holding three rats rested on the ground, under the shelves filled with cleaning supplies and the like. Repulsed, he stood dumbfounded, staring at the beasts as they scuttled around in the cage, unaware of his presence.

"Oh Levi, I didn't know you started writing again!" Hanji half-shouted from the living room.

Levi stormed into the living room, enraged, and removed his laptop from their grasp. "Don't go looking through my stuff, and don't put filthy beasts in my closet."

"Where else was I supposed to put them? My landlord doesn't allow pets." Hanji pouted and folded their arms across their chest.

"I don't allow them either! Why didn't you just keep them in your lab or something?"

"That's not the point; they needed to be out of my lab, and I figured this was the best place."

It was Levi's turn to be dumbfounded. His voice shook with barely-suppressed rage. "You thought my apartment was the best place for rats?"

Hanji sighed. "Why don't we go out right now, get out of your apartment, and when we're done, we can come back, and I'll get them out of your closet?"

Levi's skin crawled at the thought of keeping the rats longer. "No. Get them out now."

"If I get them out now," they began as they walked toward the closet, "can we go do something after?"

Levi sighed harshly, running a hand through his hair. They wouldn't leave him alone until they got what they wanted... "Sure, Hanji. Just hurry up; I don't have all day."

"Don't worry, it shouldn't take long," Hanji replied, carrying the cage out of his apartment. Levi followed them out, locking the door behind them. "I'll leave them in my truck for how."

The thought of being in a confined area with those rats longer made Levi nauseous, and he silently vowed to find alternative means for getting home. As it was, they were shoving him into their truck, claiming that it was their treat entirely, and that Levi shouldn't have to drive there. It was ridiculous, but most of Hanji's coercion tactics were. There was, obviously, a reason for their behavior, and Levi dreaded figuring it out.

As they pulled into the parking lot in front of a familiar set of stores, Levi felt vomit surge up his throat. The stupid bookstore sign loomed above them, and Levi wanted nothing more than to flee.

Hanji got out of the truck, grinning wildly. Their smile faltered as they noticed Levi hadn't gotten out of the vehicle.

"Come on, Levi! Let's go!"

Levi felt himself exiting the truck, even as everything in him screamed not to. "Hanji, why are we at a bookstore?"

Hanji laughed. "Silly goose! You owe me for forgetting, remember? I need a new science textbook, and I figured I'd show you mercy and take you to a bookstore."

Fucking hell, this is the worst place you could've taken me. Levi grimaced; he was never going to place himself in this kind of a situation again. He was never going to place himself in their debt again.

He wanted nothing more than to protest, to beg for a different punishment—surely there were other things they wanted or needed. At that point, he was willing to do anything but go in that bookstore. However, Levi knew that allowing the slightest sliver of his true emotions to surface would result in a reaction far worse than anything he could've imagined with Petra.

"Sure," he droned, following them reluctantly into the store. His limbs were stiff with anger and fear; he felt his body at last synchronize itself with his mind, his desires, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"I've been wanting to check this place out for some time now," Hanji babbled. "I've driven by it several times, but I've never been able to stop and see what it's like inside. I'm hoping they will have something I want, but if they don't, it's fine; we can just visit a different place sometime." They opened the door to the store. "Oh, Levi, isn't it lovely? Look at all of those shelves stuffed with books!"

"Gee, Hanji, isn't it surprising: a bookstore is overflowing with books!"

"Shut up, Levi," Hanji reprimanded as they darted away, searching for their desired section.

Levi walked forward, trying to decide which section would be best for hiding. It aggravated him knowing that Eren could be anywhere, that he had the upper hand in the situation, but in the end, he chose the classics section. Being an eclectic reader gave Levi the advantage of being entertained in almost any section of the store; however, classics always were his favorite. It comforted him that, despite their age, they still held great power over people.

The classics section was one of the areas near the back along the wall, beside the fantasy and sci-fi sections; it was more well-stocked than secluded, but it felt private and cozy enough to put Levi at ease. He glanced at the fantasy section, before solidifying his decision to browse the classics, and he began examining the shelves.

Automatically, he felt his spirits rise. Seeing the novels, a majority of them already in his possession, soothed him, and he stood in front of the second-to-last shelf, simply staring at the titles and authors, breathing in the comforting scent. He could almost forget about Eren, and he felt himself drifting away from his ever-present fear as he plucked Slaughterhouse 5 from the shelf.

Leafing through the pages, he found a section of the story, and began. Reading it several times had given him ample knowledge and familiarity with the text, and he was able to ease into the story from a random point almost effortlessly.

The only indication of time passing was the ache in his legs; the book swept him away from the world, but eventually, his attention returned halfheartedly to his body. He contemplated finding Hanji and leaving but decided against it; if they wanted to leave, they would've found him already. Levi clutched the book and sat on the ground, cross-legged, and hunched protectively over the book in his lap, his hair falling around him like a flimsy curtain.

He was nearing the end of the novel when someone tapped his shoulder. Flinching, Levi looked up, dreading who he might find, and was relieved to see Hanji.

"Almost done, Levi?" They asked, clutching five textbooks. Rather than coax him to leave, they plopped on the ground beside him and displayed their books. "They've got a better selection than I was anticipating, and I can't decide which one between these I want. I suppose," they mused, sliding two textbooks away from the others, "these aren't as good as the rest, but that still leaves three, and they're all fabulous."

"Then I'll get you all three," Levi replied.

Hanji's eyes widened. "Levi, you don't have to do that. I just wanted your opinion on them and which one you thought would be the best."

"My opinion is that I should get you the three instead of you hemming and hawing over which one you want for hours. I know you'll just come back for the others, anyways."

"Thank you Levi! I'll make it up to you." Levi opened his mouth to protest, but Hanji continued. "Did you find anything you wanted to buy?"

"No; I already have most of these at home."

"You do have a big enough collection for a bookstore," Hanji mused.

Levi wrinkled his nose in horror. "I couldn't sell my books. Besides, my tea shop is enough."

"True... Say, Levi, did you really start writing again?" Hanji asked, positioning themselves so that they sat across from Levi. "I mean, it's been six years since you stopped, and recent events haven't helped that, so I was wondering if that document on your computer was really..."

Levi allowed silence to fill the space between them as he weighed their words, considering whether or not it would be safe to answer. Finally, he settled on voicing his curiosity. "'Recent events?'"

Hanji glanced away from Levi. "Erwin filled me in on the basics: he asked you to come along with him in a small group to a party, Eren was there with some of his friends celebrating his eighteenth birthday, you and Eren already didn't get along and the alcohol didn't help that, something about you two drunkenly challenging each other to a dance-off, you two disappeared for the night, and then there was a bad falling-out between the two of you afterwards. That's all I know."

Levi nodded absentmindedly, dread rising steadily. It was more painful than he anticipated, hearing such events spoken of so concisely, so flippantly, yet he feared the purpose of their surfacing. "That's the basics."

Hanji nodded. "And that's why you avoided this bookstore with Petra, and why you nearly shit your pants when I suggested we go here, because Eren works here."

Levi froze, tilting his head down to avoid Hanji's pressing gaze. Understanding hit him like a lightning bolt; that was why Petra examined him so closely, why she wanted to go to that particular art store, why Hanji had put rats in his apartment. Beneath his mounting fear and anger, Levi was curious as to what piece of information kick-started their interference.

"Look," Hanji continued as they stood, ripping Levi from his thoughts, "I'm not going to ask for the specifics, but clearly, whatever happened really hit you hard. I think you should get things sorted out between the two of you, because it's been a year and a half since it happened, and you're still as shaken up about it as you were then."

Levi clutched the novel so tightly his knuckles were white. "Hanji," he muttered, unable to give voice to his surging, clashing emotions, yet desperate to make them stay, make them understand.

"Yes?" They asked as they bent to gather the three textbooks.

"I can't do that. There's nothing I can say that would fix... what I did. He probably wouldn't want to see me again."

"Hmm, well, if that were the case, then why did he offer to give you a ride home when I told him about our rat situation, how our little clean freak didn't want to be with those rats at all, much less after hours of confinement in a vehicle?"

Levi barely bit back a gasp, then flushed with embarrassment, both with his immediate foolishness and Eren's unexpected offer. He felt Hanji's hand brush against his shoulder before they left him to sit in privacy, but he could barely focus on anything but his tumbling, roaring, chaotic thoughts.

What did it mean? Why was he doing it? Did that mean...

No. Levi didn't have a chance. Eren hurt him badly, but, in the end, it was Levi who inflicted the most damage.

Eren and Levi had known each other vaguely through some connections in their friend groups, but they never had a chance to properly interact with each other until that night at the party. Immediately, they disliked each other. Eren was a sloppy, erratic, blunt, brash brat who thought he could do anything. Levi loathed his attitude almost as much as it, weirdly, turned him on.

One of the things Eren believed himself best at was dancing. Levi wasn't going to acknowledge the brat, until Erwin casually mentioned that Levi was a great dancer, and Eren scoffed and made some insulting comment about Levi's appearance. He couldn't remember what it was now, but then, it ticked him off, so he challenged Eren to a dance-off to the next song they heard.

God, for all of Eren's bluster, there was a solid foundation to his claims. Levi remembered the way his body thrummed, pulsed with the music, flowed with a strange grace. He remembered the way Eren's eyes gleamed with approval and hunger, the way it grew to feel like a different type of challenge, the way their bodies brushing against each other felt less like a competition and more like a duel of sorts. Their caresses grew to hold sincerity, their gazes steadily more passionate, their movements less and less hostile and more silky, graceful, complimentary.

There was always a fleeting attraction that arose when Levi had crossed paths with Eren in the past, but their intoxicated dancing fanned the flames, and after their dancing, Levi found himself pressing Eren up against the wall of an empty room and kissing him senseless. After that, it was a blur of skin and sheets and lovely sounds that haunted Levi's dreams for months afterwards, until the only thing that brought them back was the sound of that song.

The morning after was painful, to say the least. Levi woke first, to Eren curled up beside him, arms around his waist, and he remembered a burst of warmth and affection, pure, lovely affection he hadn't felt since their deaths. Panic gripped his body; he couldn't get attached like that again, couldn't feel so strongly for someone, not when he couldn't guarantee their safety, not when he couldn't guarantee protection.

So he coldly severed all ties, rudely waking Eren up and sending him away, breaking every drunken promise, every strange, possibly far-fetched confession, the attraction between them, treating the brat like nothing more than an old toy. The fighting afterwards, the screaming and shouting, left the both of them in shambles.

And he grew to hate that song, that brat, that night, because no matter what he did, he couldn't forget it, couldn't suppress his feelings, couldn't cope with the fact that he'd broken them, nipped whatever they had in the bud. He loathed Eren for making him feel like that, and he loathed himself, because, this time, it was something he'd done, something he had control over.

Seeing Eren again... God, it messed him up. He couldn't stand it, being in the brat's presence; it was like that morning all over again. Waves and waves of affection almost drowning all logic, his only salvation (or damnation) his panic. He couldn't fucking breathe when those blue-green eyes met his. It wasn't love, this thing he felt; it was too soon for that, he felt. But it had strong potential for becoming that, and, honestly, that frightened him more. It was beyond terrifying to know that, if these feelings kept growing and growing, they wouldn't just be attraction or infatuation or a crush—they would be love.

He knew he could end it all again, cut ties by leaving the store without a word, refusing the indirect offer Eren made; it was honestly much more simple than before, yet all the more difficult. Then, he hadn't anticipated his actions haunting him; now, he saw the dangers in ending it.

Because this would be final. He knew it instinctively; if he cut this off now, there would be no going back, no second (third) chances. Eren wouldn't try again (if that was even what he was doing now—for all Levi knew, he offered to escort him home so that he could tell him in private to stand down and go away), and Levi's friends would get the hint and back off.

Levi stood, his limbs shaking, his heart racing, his skin some strange combination of cool and pale and fiery pink, and he put Slaughterhouse 5 back where he found it. Wiping his palms on his jeans, Levi sighed, then took a deep breath.

He had to see Eren again; he had to talk with him. Even if Eren offered only to put Levi in his place, out of his life, Levi had to hear his voice one last time. He wouldn't try to persuade Eren otherwise, should he feel that way. He wouldn't further injure the brat like that.

Internally shaking, Levi strode up to the cash register, where Eren stood waiting.

"Do you have anything you want to check out?"

You. "No, I'm all good... Shit. I was going to buy shitty glasses' textbooks." Levi frowned; he'd get them back a different time.

Eren smiled awkwardly, and it didn't reach his eyes. "That explains why she was in such a hurry." An awkward pause, then a cough. "So, Hanji said you were probably going to need a ride home?"

"Yeah," Levi replied, gaze locked with Eren's, "they left rats in my apartment without telling me, and when they came to visit, I made them take the beasts out. I didn't want to ride back in a truck that contained rats for a few hours."

Carefully-guarded amusement lit Eren's features, even though he'd already gotten the story from Hanji, and all Levi did was babble repetitively to cover (expose) his nervousness. "That's understandable; I wouldn't want to deal with that either..." His amusement fell away into wariness. "I, um, offered to take you home... if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Thank you."

"Okay, I'll just grab my keys, and we'll go," Eren replied, brushing past Levi.

The light contact set Levi's stomach in a knot and skin ablaze. Instinctively, he grabbed Eren's wrist. He halted mid-step, his body half-turned towards Levi.

"What?" The brat snapped, poised like he was ready to rip himself from Levi's grasp. Levi's thumb brushed his skin slowly, and he felt Eren's pulse race in his hand.

"I'm sorry."

Eren's breathing hitched, and his pulse skyrocketed. He refused to meet Levi's eyes, even though they bore into him, dancing over and over across his frozen, broken features.

"I'm sorry for treating you like shit, I'm sorry for that day in the bookstore, I'm sorry for that morning after the party."

Eren fully faced Levi, gaze contorted into a glare, anger marring his features. "You broke me, lied to me, treated me like shit, and now you just say you're sorry?"

Levi licked his lips, and he felt Eren's gaze follow the movement spitefully. "I know an apology can't possibly make up for—"

"You're right; it can't. And even if I could accept an apology, how can I possibly trust anything you have to say?"

"Look, I have no right to ask you to take me back. I would beg you if I could, but I don't deserve that. I tried to drive you away because I was terrified of falling for you, of opening myself up to be hurt again, of hurting you, and in response, I just put both of us in a lot of pain. And I can't tell you enough how much I regret that... I just need you to know, everything I said that morning... I meant none of it. And you need to know that I am sorry, truly, deeply sorry, for hurting you. I hate myself knowing I brought you pain..." Levi trailed off, tearing his eyes away from Eren's, feeling the familiar burn of tears preparing to fall.

Eren removed his wrist from Levi's grasp and stepped forward. "Levi. Levi." His rough, tan hands tilted Levi's chin up, forcing their gazes to reconnect. "Levi," Eren murmured. "I can't... There's so much distrust... So much pain..."

Levi felt the tears blur his vision, but he blinked them back.

"I can't say that I forgive you, yet... I can't say that I trust you, yet... And I can't say that your words healed me completely... But I know, in time, we could properly heal. Together. And... I would prefer it if we did that, heal, with each other."

Levi felt the tears spill over despite his efforts, and he pulled Eren into a hug. For a second, he doubted his actions, feared they were too much too soon given the circumstances, but then Eren relaxed in his grasp, and all he felt was relief and determination. He couldn't bring himself to kiss Eren yet—it was too soon for that—but the feeling of his arms wrapping around Eren's waist, of Eren's arms returning the favor, the feeling of warmth and comfort and safety and rightness made him want to sob in relief.

Eren rubbed soothing circles on his back as they stood together beside the registers, basking in the warmth of each other's company.

Eventually, Eren pulled away. "Keys, remember?" He prompted with a silly, sincere grin that had begun to touch his eyes.

Levi chuckled. "Right."

Eren rushed back to get his belongings while Levi waited for him, joy bursting through his being. They weren't whole and well yet, not by a long shot, but they were on the road to that, and just the thought of it sent Levi into dizzying happiness.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Good; let's get you home."

As Levi followed Eren to his car, he couldn't help but feel like he'd finally found his true home.