You sat next to each other on the train, still pretending to be strangers.
As the lights flickered on and off, the metro stopping and going, letting on new passengers and getting rid of old, neither you nor he moved. He was dressed in his usual fancy suit and tie, a briefcase on his lap as he checked his expensive phone. You were wearing your school uniform- with some modifications, of course, like the tie undone, shirt untucked, and shoes scribbled on with marker- with your old ripped up backpack lying on the floor, and your earbuds blasting music so loud that you got dirty looks from the old man sitting across from you.
You didn't speak to one another, you didn't glance sideways to see if he was looking (he wasn't), you didn't do anything except act like you didn't know one another.
You were a stranger to him.
(Or at least, you pretended to be.)
You always took the train to school.
It was the easiest and cheapest way to get there, not to mention close to you, on the corner of Elm and Shina Street. You didn't have a car, so taking the metro it was. You didn't understand why he took it though. Why he wasted his time getting on and off when he could slide through the traffic easily in a car that you knew he could afford with a watch like that. But you didn't ask him (that'd be rude right?), and so you quietly mused about the silent man that always sat next to you.
But he was still a stranger.
You didn't even know his name.
You got sick one week.
You were sneezing and coughing, you could barely move from the bed. You didn't go to school that week, and Mikasa came every day after school to make sure that you took your medicine. Besides that, you were all alone in the dark, watching bad sitcoms and the news until you finally had enough energy to walk.
The next Monday you were on the metro again, not feeling any better but knew that your attendance record had gone down a fair bit with your sickness. You jumped on at your regular stop, and headed towards the back of the carriage where you always sat (you would always be thankful for missing rush hour and taking an unpopular train).
He looked up and saw you there, and you were frozen as you saw him raise an eyebrow over sharp grey eyes, before he moved his briefcase from where it was holding your seat.
You smiled and muttered a quiet 'thank you' to him as you sat down, but he didn't answer.
You were still unknown to each other, but a warm feeling in your chest told you that you were more companions then strangers.
He wasn't there on time.
You looked up when the doors opened, and people streamed in, but his familiar black hair wasn't visible, nor was his Prada suit and well-worn briefcase.
You were a bit worried.
(Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.)
He was never late.
He was usually there before you, but now… Maybe he's getting on at another stop?
His seat was taken by a young woman and her four year old daughter, the little girl bouncing up and down on her mother's knee and excitedly chattering on about where they were going.
You couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, but it soon faded.
Here you were, worrying for a stranger.
He wasn't there the next day, or the next, or the ones following that one.
Soon enough, a week had passed.
You still glanced at every stop towards the door that he always got in through, only to be disappointed when he wasn't there to greet you with indifference.
Waiting for a stranger, how stupid.
You were walking home from school.
You forgot your wallet and metro card, so you had no way to take the train. It got worse when it started raining. You cursed under your breath and glared up at the grey sky, but to no avail. The rain kept on pouring down heavily around you, drenching your figure as you ran underneath an awning to stay dry.
Of all days. You thought to yourself, as you shivered and pulled your jacket more around you.
It seemed like someone else was in the same predicament you were in, because a shorter man was standing under the awning too. He had a scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrowed together over dark grey eyes, and he was looking at something on his cellphone.
Your breath caught.
It was him. Of all the luck you had to find him here-
(Not that you were looking, of course.)
He didn't look up as you inched closer slightly, unconsciously, and instead you watched him curiously as he typed something into his phone and curse under his breath. "Damn Hanji," he muttered. And then he looked up and saw you there, and your cheeks flushed pink slightly.
"S-Sorry."
He blinked, before smiling slightly. "No problem, brat." He shoved his hands in his pockets, and fell silent again.
You shivered slightly as a cold wind blew by. "W-Where have you been?"
His attention was brought back to you, and you were startled by the intensity of his grey eyes.
"Hm? Oh, my secretary booked a bunch of meetings for me at six AM everyday these past few weeks, so I've had to take a cab." He sighed. "What a bunch of idiots they all were."
You grinned slightly, at the annoyed sound in his voice, before shivering once more.
You heard him mutter something under his breath, before something warm was draped over shoulders. You looked up, startled. He gave you his jacket.
"Wha-?"
"Don't rip it, brat, or you'll regret it."
"I won't," you replied, fiddling with your shirt's cuffs. "And my name's not 'brat'. It's Eren. Eren Jaeger."
He inclined his head towards you. "…Rivaille Ackerman. I go by Levi."
You smiled. "Nice to meet you."
You were both on the metro that day.
You returned his jacket, which he muttered a small 'thanks', and the two of you sat quietly for most of the duration.
Just when you were about to get off, however, he grabbed your jacket and shoved a small slip of paper into your hand.
"My number," he explained at your confused look. "You know, just in case."
You grinned.
I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin.
This was originally for another fandom but then I thought 'screw it all the characters are turning out to be Levi and Eren anyways might as well leave it as them'.
For 365 questions: Reincarnation: do you believe in it?