Credits/Disclaimers: The story is developed by me, everything else belongs to their respective creators. Written for RivaMikaJam4 (February 2016). Theme: Alternate Universe. Image credit: Google Search.
This was written as a response to a Holocaust/Book Thief [AU] prompt by k-lionheart . Prompt: Levi is a Jew who is being persecuted in Nazi Germany and comes to live with the Jaegers, where Mikasa also lives. They fall in love but the war tears them apart. I hope I have been able to do it some justice!
Note: There are bound to be inaccuracies, feel free to message me if something is glaringly incorrect, I will try my best to correct it.
Patched Up In Darkness
1937
i.
He was hushed and hustled inside the house in the dark of the night and Eren, Mikasa and Armin had stirred from their ever-clouded slumber at the commotion. There wasn't much of a commotion, but there also was not much in the name of their house. Every sound permeated every wall.
The Jaegers were by the door and shortly, three people clad in dark clothes came by and one of them remained, while the others left. Mrs. Jaeger took the lone person and hurried towards the basement, and Mr. Jaeger stood watch at the door. Smoking.
Many minutes later, he came in. His wife was in the kitchen waiting for him. And the new stranger had disappeared in the basement. Nothing more happened that night. Nothing else was heard that night.
The breakfast in the morning consisted of the five of them, as usual and no one said a word. Until Eren decided to be himself and brazenly question his father, "Who is in our house?"
Mr. Jaeger looked up at that, eyeing him over the rim of his glasses, staring him down, making him uncomfortable. When Armin gave reason, "W-we...saw someone...last night..right?"
Mrs. Jaeger stood up and joined her husband and they sighed in union. She began, "We have a guest whose existence must not be known. He is in great danger and we will do our best to keep him safe - that's what we are about."
"But can we meet him? Talk to him?", Eren chirped, happy at the prospect of a potential new friend whose acquaintance would also give him an adventure.
Armin shifted in his chair, already uncomfortable at the uncertainty of the situation, while Mikasa just sat there, staring. Eren may have been somewhat naïve, but both Mikasa and Armin knew what kind of guests required a no-mention warning, knew what entailed a hidden life in the basement and knew the pains of being alive, for their experiences had shattered them enough to not remain much innocent anymore.
Eren was the hopeful one.
Mrs. Jaeger replied to him, "Yes, Eren. But only if he agrees to it. Understand?"
Eren must have found it unreasonable for someone to not want to speak or socialise, for he attempted another question, "But-"
When Mr. Jaeger cut him off with a stern, "Eren."
His son gulped and nodded. Instructions were pretty clear - Levi, a teenager was the only survivor from a Jewish family from up north, the Köln region or someplace close. He was under the Jaegers' protection because Erwin Smith, Mr. Jaeger's mentee was the benefactor of this boy. Erwin had done what he could - forced Levi to scour the streets to keep him out of the radar of the Army, shipped him from place to place to save him and spared his life one too many times. Erwin danced with danger as a profession, but liabilities in a job like that always came with a hefty price. So, he had asked the Jaegers for this favour.
It did not change anything. Other than the fact that the children could no longer use the basement as their personal playhouse. As soon as breakfast was over, Eren began plotting ways to reach the basement without a reprimand from his parents. But Mrs. Jaeger herself handed them the opportunity. Some food and water were entrusted to Mikasa and they were all asked to go deliver it to Levi.
ii.
She stared at him, eyes hiding behind dark hair and the coiled scarf around her neck. Striking black eyes and quiet, quiet demeanour. The boy, a few years older than her, stared back. He had unkempt hair and very dead eyes which shone somewhat silver. A little rough around the edges, but with a presence that spoke of imminent threat, he stood just as still as she did. Mr. And Mrs. Jaeger had sworn them to the secrecy of his existence. Neither were they supposed to breathe a word of Levi nor were they to venture anything with him.
Mikasa, now, assumed that the latter was more for their own protection than for Levi's. Although, they were still -just barely- considered "kids", Levi was old enough to be recruited in the army. And the war was looming. Inevitable.
She stepped a little closer, while Armin and Eren gazed at this new person with open shock and perhaps, some admiration. Levi was a street rat who had survived on nothing so far. He must be formidable.
Mikasa handed him the plate Mrs. Jaeger had sent for him. He tentatively reached out and swiftly took it off her hands. Eyes flitting between the three of them. He still held the food in his hands and stood there, calculating. Mikasa turned to leave and dejectedly enough, so did Eren and Armin.
Levi stood in place till he heard the door click.
iii.
In three days, it had become an established routine for the three children to bring Levi all his meals. Mikasa was in charge of breakfast, Armin for lunch and Eren for dinner. Out of the three, Eren was the most enthusiastic to "meet" the new stranger. But Levi had not broken his taciturnity even once. With any of them. Sometimes, Mikasa would lie awake in bed and imagine hearing voices of Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger talking with Levi. Most times Mikasa would not be sure if she actually heard them or dreamt it.
A week later, when Mikasa brought him his breakfast, Eren and Armin did not accompany her. The radio was broadcasting something violently dreadful and Eren wanted to know. Armin was tasked with keeping him out of trouble, so the lone girl brought down the usual plate of food for their secret guest.
Levi had gotten accustomed to this daily affair but seeing her alone made him a little wary. She handed him the food, as usual, and he stared, as usual. As she was turning to leave, she noticed a brown leather-backed item on Levi's makeshift bed. She stopped and looked at him and keeping her eyes on his, slowly made towards the book. Levi watched her for a few seconds and then dropped the plate and grabbed her hand that was reaching for the book. She jerked.
He pulled her away, from what was obviously his beloved possession and given that he was almost an adult, his pull caused young Mikasa to get dragged up to him. She may have been small, but she did not back down from fights. Not anymore. Not after losing everything.
She let him hold her hand in a painful clutch and she pursed her lips, returning his hard stare with a cold one of her own. He did not let go and looked into her eyes so deep, that he was sure – she was sure - that whatever threat he was to make, would remain with her for the rest of her life, terrifyingly enough. Emotions had no space in this cold exchange, but as black clashed with dirty silver, the first words escaped Levi's lips, "..No."
It was a drawn out but strongly presented word. Spoken harshly enough to seal the command in the receiver, but she was not to be taken down so easily. She gave him her first word too, "Why?"
Where he was rough and rugged, she was soft and childish. Where he was scared and distrusting, she was fearless and questioning. Where he was not ready, she could not have cared less.
Her hand still in his, tiny palms covered in calloused ones, he answered her, "It's mine."
"I know that. I have seen a book like that only once." She provided.
That caught his interest, but he could not let his guard down. While those books were rare, they were a symbol as well and if what she was saying was true, then she must have been quite the danger to bring inside a home. And now that Levi looked keenly enough, she was not related to the Jaegers. No, it didn't seem so. She was...some sort..of..East Asian?
"Get out." He commanded harshly. Letting go of her hands and throwing her backwards. Mikasa was thrown back physically and emotionally, but eleven year old children have amazing reflexes, which she proved by lurching for the book on his bed. Levi made a dash for it and ended up caging her little body underneath his. She held onto the book and he tried to reach around her and snatch it out of her grasp.
Belatedly, he realised that if someone walked in on them, the position would compromise his reputation and future. He rolled over and sat up. Away from Mikasa, who lay there quietly for a few moments, before turning into a ball and then settling down in a sitting position with the book cradled in her chest.
Levi breathed heavily and looked at her from his distance. She had it now and she was looking down at it. The only piece of materialistic position he carried around with him. The only thing that reminded him of home. Of values, of traditions, of foods, of spices, of chatter that he had been stripped of and required to leave behind to live this pathetic excuse of a life on the run.
"My father had this too." She broke into his thoughts.
He focused on her again and in a moment, all was clear. She just needed to connect to the book, like he needed to connect to it. Levi let this treacherous thought rule for exactly one second before trying to shut it down.
Mikasa looked at him and stretched her hands out with the book in it. He took the offered book. And she picked herself up to leave.
Levi sat there till he heard the door click. The food lay there, forgotten.
iv.
The next morning Mikasa came decorated with her usual battalion. And handed him the food. Levi took the plate and the three children turned to leave, when he asked, "Would you like to read?"
She knew the question was for her and she knew that she did not want to divulge the incidents of the day before to her friends. Eren jumped right back towards Levi, "Yes! You can read? What can you read us? I will bring you a book? Right, Armin?"
Armin meekly nodded, but allowed Eren to take him upstairs to find some book that could arrest his attention, while Mikasa remained in the basement. She slowly turned to face him, question in her eyes.
She looked around, his book was nowhere to be seen. He answered her before she voiced anything, "That one...some other time.."
She nodded once. And with the return of Armin and Eren, the four of them sat down while Levi read out a treatise on geographical ventures of the great explorers of the world that Eren had chosen for them.
This was just a beginning and it was going to help heal a lot of parts in them. They just didn't know it yet.
v.
The book readings continued and Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger took it in stride. Educating their children was good and seeing Levi comfortable was good. They did not interfere with them, unless an urgent knock on the door reminded everyone of the impeding threats that painted their lives and living.
Mikasa, at times, would disappear in the basement between lunch and dinner to go see Levi, when Eren and Armin were mostly busy with assigned chores or fighting with each other. To go learn from him about the little brown leather book. And her play time with Levi always began with the same words he had used the first time he had let her see the book, open it and read it.
"It's a diary in which I note all that I can remember of my life and family."
He did not remember new things anymore, so it was a book in her eyes, but Levi's notes were detailed and his dairy-book served as a good source of learning about her half-heritage. She discovered that she had never had a Bat Mitzvah and she had never seen a synagogue. She must have missed out on lots of delicious food as well, but Levi told her everything. Little by little.
vi.
Her afternoons with Levi became prized and as she grew, so did he. They would read together often and she would bring him some of her books from time to time. She would point out words that she could not read or did not understand and he would explain it to her. She had made it very clear, early on, that he was not allowed to read without her. Levi never broke that law.
Incandescence
1938
i.
"But why?" She demanded, "If my papers can be faked, yours can be too, right?" Pause.
"Levi. You can come live with us." That last bit sounded a little breathless to his ears. And he earnestly smiled at her, with his back to her.
"You look different, Mikasa. Did you know that?" He asked, turning around and adapting his stoic mask of an expression.
She nodded.
"Your...mother.." - he slowly began and with her nod of affirmation, continued - "was Asian...given your name...Japanese, I think?" She nodded again.
"So, you look different compared to the people around here. I am really happy for that." He looked away with that.
She stared at him, somewhat lost and somewhat curious.
"OK." She replied, before sitting down with the book she had brought him that day - something in geography. Today, Mikasa mused, she would learn about Japan.
ii.
Eren and Armin accompanied Mikasa sometimes to go learn with Levi. To Levi's chagrin, Eren was easily distracted, which did not bode well for anyone because he was also easily the loudest of them all and had a proclivity to string along everyone in his schemes. But he was also afraid of Levi's consternation, in a sense. Levi's consternation often translated into silent treatment. While Armin's devotion to learning and absorbing every word pouring out of Levi's mouth rivaled deity-worship, Eren's fear of Levi, could be chalked up to unadulterated terror.
The two made for an interesting pair, sometimes amusing to watch and interact with. In all this, Mikasa was an ever present and ever constant background. She was striking on her own, but she somehow hovered in the background whenever others were present. Levi had figured it to be her skill, rather than disposition.
He did not mind reading, teaching the kids, but he looked forward to speaking only with Mikasa. They had much in common and somehow, all his nightmares – the fires, the chases, the hunger, the beatings – all seemed to seem less despairing when he spoke to her.
Mikasa never failed to show up.
1939
i.
He taught her how to dance on her 13th birthday. She was a little shy and repressed-ly excited to become a teenager, to become a woman of matter from the girl who never did. Her friendship with Levi had deepened and her faith in him had increased. She also knew that Levi liked her the most out of the three of them because she was the only one who was not asked to leave him anytime she purposely annoyed him. Eren and Armin were slightly frightened of his murderous glares and respected him enough to obey his every command.
So, when Mikasa's birthday came around and she brought him his breakfast by herself, he sheepishly apologised for the lack of a present, after wishing her a joyous anniversary. Mikasa did not need a present, but when he silently slipped his hand into hers, lifting it up, asking her if she knew how to waltz, Mikasa numbly shook her head in a 'no'. Had she known how to waltz, she still would have shaken her head in the negative.
So, they danced. They danced to no music, to clumsy footsteps and sweaty hands, in the dingy basement as war planes flew over their head and their futures darkened. She smiled and laughed and stepped on his feet - plural. And he tried his best to avoid the attacks, smiled and indulged her.
That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Mikasa slipped into the basement to find Levi awake and waiting. For her.
They sat next to each other, snuggling under the ragged blankets in the cold February winter. And Levi read his diary to her. From end to apparent end. When he finished, she asked to hold the book and he easily placed it in her hands.
1940
i.
She brought a pen along with her usual pile of books. He only questioned her with his eyes. He did most of his speaking with his eyes only.
"We will write today." She half-asked, half-declared.
"Write." He parroted.
"Yes. In your book." She replied, voice stronger.
"No." He strongly dismissed her.
"You can say that, Levi. But I will write in your book." She held his gaze and her demand.
"And if I don't let you?" He fired.
"I will find a way." She stepped forward, "Like I found a way to you."
She was too close to his body and that threatening pen was tightly fitted in her grasp. He encircled that fist with his palms and brought it up to his face.
And pulled her closer with a jerk. She leaned on to him as a result and he circled her waist with his right hand, the left one still holding her and the pen closer to his face.
"And what, exactly, would you write, if I may ask?" His only motive in pulling her this close was to convey how serious he was about that small journal.
"That we are here, as part of this world, together, alone, scared, mundane and hopeful." She replied thinking each of her words through.
"I can't let you. If I am caught, if that diary is compromised-"
"-then I will be in danger, the Jaegers will be in danger and another five minutes of speech that you have given me time and time again on how dangerous it is to be associated with you." She shot back, interrupting him.
"And yet, here we are. Aren't we? You can keep telling yourself that we are hopeless because of our situations, because of the world, but I dare you, I dare you, Levi Ackerman, take away my everything if you have the strength to do it."
That was a clear and loud challenge and Levi knew it. She was fire in his arms and her eyes could have devoured him alive. They were devouring him alive. He couldn't look away, but he was afraid. This was a dream in his hands, but a dream that he was going to have to relinquish sooner or later.
"Mikasa..." He tried again.
"Ackerman. Mikasa Ackerman." She presented, moving closer to him, if that was even possible.
He closed his eyes and settled his forehead against hers.
In barely a whisper with a voice that threatened to break, he gave up, "You win."
ii.
They wrote small phrases, sometimes a line and sometimes Mikasa would doodle an ancient Japanese symbol or a small word that she could remember from her early days. On the days when they wrote in their diary, he would hold her longer than usual while hugging her good night. Whenever she questioned him as to why he did that, he would silence her with a small smile and send her on her way.
iii.
One fine day, in front of his eyes, she tore a page out of the book-diary. Not just any page, but the one that contained the first words they had written together. It was a half page of writing that she had done, a few phrases that he had added and half a page of what he had already written ages ago, before Mikasa had bluntly demanded that it be her diary too.
He was unhappy at the development and he failed to keep his temper in check.
"What the fuck?" His eyes shuttled between her and the book, which now had a length of crinkly remains of a page detached from it, down the middle of it.
"I plan to keep this for myself." She answered in form of explanation.
"You have a book. An entire book. I have nothing. And I want something. This is mine" - she lifted and waved the page in front her face, staring at it - "and you will have the book still."
There was a long pause, in which Mikasa examined the back of the page which had many old phrases in Hebrew - sayings, advice, and cultural what-nots. The other side, had his story, her story and their story. Or, at least, the beginnings of it.
He watched her with bated breath and then calmly told her, "A page will not be enough, Mikasa."
She did not turn sad or angry, she simply stated, "I know. I am not looking for enough - that is a lot to ask. But this will do." She gave him a small smile and Levi reached for the page she had just torn apart. She let him have it.
He picked up their pen and inscribed a small symbol on it. Mikasa pored into it too, as he finished.
"What is it?" She asked, picking up the paper again and examining the drawing.
"Wings." He smiled at her.
She looked up at him and then back at his poor drawing. A smile threatening on her beautiful features.
"Of freedom. You will be the carrier of it." He added, half-apologetic, half-nostalgic.
"Freedom.." She repeated absent-mindedly.
1941
i.
Their nights had not been peaceful in a long time and days were never peaceful to begin with. But something was awfully fussy outside that evening. Footsteps on the cobble-stone roads and flickering lights parted a sense of danger that was never this strong before. When Eren brought Levi his dinner, he inquired as to the happenings outside. None of them were informed but they told him what they had guessed.
Eren and Armin made their way back upstairs but Mikasa stayed behind, concern marring her face.
"You are afraid?" He asked her. More to break the tension than to actually call her out on her emotions.
"Will you have to leave?" She blurted out. None of them had time to stand on formality anyway.
He held her in his eyes for a moment, before softly smiling and answering, "You will always have me."
ii.
He kissed her, slowly and softly at first and vehemently after that. Grabbing fistfuls of her hair in his hands and pulling her close by the neck, by the waist. His kiss was demanding and impatient. His hands were rough and his feet were pushing hers back to the wall, pressing her to it. Keeping her in place, he dived further into her mouth, drawing her tongue out and pushing his into her mouth. Tasting her, letting her taste him. Ensuring that she remembered his taste for the rest of her life. She tasted of nothing, just the strangeness of tongue over tongue, and he tasted of sorrow and desperation, for sure.
She was unsure at first, but she followed suit and leaned in. To kiss him back, to hold him, to give herself to him. Jointly they slid down the wall and landed on his bed, with Levi on his back and Mikasa on top of him. He rolled them over, trapping her underneath him and parted to look at her darkening eyes, misted with lust. His own eyes reflected a similar story. He wanted her.
He dipped his head in to her neck and scratched her tender, untouched skin with his teeth, while his chapped lips pricked her with unbridled desire. Mikasa threw her head back, granting him more access and herself some leverage to press into him.
She bit her lips to keep quiet. They could not be heard. She wanted him as her secret, she did not want anyone else to know. Levi was too far gone to notice, and if he did notice, he did not bother to say anything, he did not have the time. One of his fingers undid a button on her blouse and his darting tongue dipped ever lower setting off steam wherever he touched her magical skin. He reached the valley of her breasts and bit down. Hard.
And Mikasa gasped and trembled in his arms, while he signed on her body. Her blouse was rapidly coming undone now and his lips and tongue were everywhere. One of her hands found one of his and she entangled their fingers. Levi held on tightly.
And abruptly parted, letting cool air permeate the heated space between them and allowing Mikasa's desire stained face to thrash and her eyes to search his eyes.
"We cannot do this." His short breaths managed to spit out. He struggled to say that, to let that grim and cold thought take up what had been such sweet temptation, but with the remaining threads of his coherence, he managed to deliver some practicality to their situation.
Mikasa gulped and then, ever so slowly, nodded. They could not do this. They could not do anything. She was fifteen and ready for him, he was - he had been - ready for her for a while now, but they could not do this.
It was cruel, but they could not. It was difficult, but they could not. It was unfair, but they could not.
Their lives weren't theirs after all.
Mikasa closed her eyes and lay there for sometime, catching her heightened breath, while Levi looked at her and stored that image, to pull up during the gloomy future to come. She sat up and latched on to him again. Just to be close to him, just to breathe in his scent, just to remember him and he held her, letting her hold him.
He kissed the top of her forehead and they sat there silently allowing the world to come in between them.
iii.
Mrs. Jaeger's astuteness sometimes startled Mikasa, and that one afternoon where she could not hear her own thoughts over the raging war planes above her head, Mrs. Jaeger sat her down in the kitchen with some work. Peeling potatoes for dinner. Mikasa did not question, she was not of the habit either. The usually quiet and pleasant Mrs. Jaeger, though, had had something on her mind that day.
"Mikasa." She called.
The young girl looked up at her and waited for further instructions.
"How are things with Levi?" She was straight to the point.
Mikasa stared and slowly, slightly warmed up at being questioned so forwardly by her mother-figure. She looked intently down at the potatoes in her hand and wondered what it was that she could - would - tell Mrs. Jaeger.
"He is fine." She slowly responded.
"I know." That 'I know' had a far deeper meaning and both the ladies were aware of it. Mrs. Jaeger approached her and sat down by her side.
"I also know that it can feel confusing and painful. But even that has it's charms, doesn't it?" She gently asked, voice dropping to a soft whisper.
Mikasa looked at her again, this time a little more confident and infinitely more scared that she would be scolded, forbidden from seeing him again or worse, that he would be evicted.
Her fears were apparently, apparent on her face, for Mrs. Jaeger smiled politely and patted her head. Resting her hand on the head of her foster daughter, she stood up and kissed her forehead, "Live it to your hearts' content, my dear. Tomorrow is a bleak world in our lives."
With that she returned to the boiling pot on the stove. Mikasa sat there, fervently trying to steel her racing mind.
"Thank you." She said to the older woman, who only nodded without turning back.
It wasn't permission to be reckless, it was blessing to be happy. Young Mikasa had found more than happiness in this little abode.
iv.
Their daily meetings got prolonged. Their happiness increased infinitely. They learnt that love did not have to be bound, but perhaps it had to be hidden. And for the following three weeks Mikasa showed him that a chaste kiss, a small touch and simple hugging could hold extraordinary power - over both of them.
At the end of those three weeks, one sinister night that lacked peace in all sorts of ways, Levi left. Uprooted from his home again, taken from his love. And that night, Mikasa heard nothing. She lay on her bed silently with eyes wide open.
Next morning, they all noticed the lack of a sixth plate waiting to be taken to the basement and instead received instructions to 'go clean it up'. They did as they were asked but after dinner that evening, she asked to stay in the basement for the rest of the night.
Her feelings for Levi were not as hidden as she had hoped and she really had no reason to hide them anymore. Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger seemed rightfully worried, but allowed her.
And in a very long while, Mikasa cried that night. She cried her heart out, desperately grasping the cold bedspread in the dimly lit basement, where all her memories with Levi, every torn book and every missing page were inked with her tears of memory, of resignation, of regret. And she cried and cried and cried till her eyes had nothing more to offer and her heart accepted that he was gone now. Forever perhaps.
If Eren or Armin or her foster parents heard her, no one interrupted and no one offered a comforting shoulder. There was little comfort to be had.
She made sure to be the one to pick up everything from the basement, to clean it up and return it to it's ancient situation of harsh unwelcome. She made sure that she was the last one to touch everything that Levi may or may not have laid his fingers upon. She made sure to soak up the faintest of his remnants before she turned around to look at the place one more time, seal it behind the lids of her eyes and turn off the light.
She realised why he had hugged her longer on days when they had put down their heart and soul on paper. She was going to need it. He was going to need it - those extra moments of warmth and partnership.
The following year, they left Bonn. The basement had never seen another tenant after Levi's departure, and Mikasa had never opened the door after turning the lights off on the day after he had left. The Jaegers and Armin all had left her sanctuary alone.
A Page Was Not Enough
1950
i.
She was dressed in a long-sleeved blouse and midi-length skirt, a belt clutching her waist and the clothing around it together. A cloche hat adorning her hair. All this making her nothing but ordinary and one of many who walked the streets of Beaune dressed like that.
During the war, they had moved from place to place, trying to find fragments of safety and peace. And after the nightmare was over, Armin had suggested moving to France for safety and anonymity. Mr. Jaeger, along with his wife had returned to Bonn to offer their services. Eren had accompanied them, but he was on his way to Bonn too, now that his parents seemed somewhat stable.
Armin, for all his cleverness and ideas, had succumbed to the outrage. A random raid and his one time courage, had extinguished his life. Eren had never been the same afterwards.
And Mikasa. Well, Armin's absence still clawed at her. But she had resigned herself to live like that after Levi.
ii.
France was charming. People liked her and people suspected her, but that was only natural. Mikasa tended to Eren, who had lost almost all of loud-mouth passion, whenever he was in town. He brought her news of the Jaegers, of Germany, of a life that she had left behind but a life that trailed her like a ghost.
Eren never spoke of Armin. Everytime his name accidentally came up in conversation, Eren would retract in a shell and disappear. Mikasa suspected that his constant travelling between his parents and her was the only thing that kept him sane and allowed him to run from reality. He would eventually come to accept life as it was.
She herself spent her days in despair and fantasy. They had never heard from Levi or of him. Erwin Smith had vanished for almost three years in between, but had made a miraculous reappearance that had done little to soothe Mikasa. He had rendezvoused with them only once since.
While they had been living the nomad life, moving from one place to another, Mikasa had held on to hope of seeing Levi or hearing from him, in the deepest corners of her heart, but now, with each passing day, that hope diminished and her conscience told her -stronger everyday - that he was lost forever.
She did not cry, she trained herself to be grateful for the moments she had had. The life she now lived. The time she experienced. The love that she was too young to understand. He had warned her plenty as well.
On certain dreadful nights, she still fished out the torn page from Levi's diary, hidden in her dusty belongings. To read it over and over and relive moments from years ago. But surviving like this was more than difficult. After all, one torn page of a book could only hold so much of their story. Only so much of them in it.
A page was not enough.