Eyes that bordered between varying shades of blue and green lost focus as the awareness of their owner shifted from remaining inside the confines of reality towards the undeniable beckoning of reverie. Try as he may to stop himself from doing so, he knew he had no other option but to give in and let loose. Never once have his valiant attempts of resisting his stand-stills bore fruit, henceforth he stopped trying. Eren soon found himself devoid of sight a couple of seconds after his decisions to retreat inside of his mind due to his eyes coming to a close in an effort to drown out everything around him, so he could his attention could solely be on the flashes of distant visages that have began playing like a movie within the very recesses of his sagacity.

Always, always, always, always there were the same images – images of cool cobalt eyes that sent shivers down his core every time they looked at him, of a firm yet gentle voice that called his name with, more often times than not, undetectable fondness, of a frame much smaller than his own that fitted perfectly inside the cage of his arms, and of every scar and blemish on the aforementioned built.

Accompanying these nostalgic visions were apparitions of pandemonium, of monsters, of hopelessness, of despair, and of utter depression, however these fabricated realities will always be overpowered by the warmth and comfort that radiated from the mere presence of the cobalt-eyed male.

He has always pondered upon the possibility that perhaps his dreams were not simply dreams, but perhaps they were memoirs of his from a far-away time – that was highly unlikely, however. Human belief dictated that when a soul went through reincarnation, he will be stripped of his memories and will start off a life completely free from the shackles of remembering who he was in his previous life. Maybe God made a mistake and let slip some of his memories inside his subconscious when his soul was once again sent into the world?

Bullshit , he thought vehemently as he re-enforced his endeavours to free himself from his overly active imagination and to allow himself to focus once more on the upcoming freshman address. True enough, it was his imagination that provided him a living with his many published historical and fantasy novels themed after his strange dreams and it was undeniable that it was his publications (products of his imagination) that landed him a decent enough job as a respected English teacher in one of the most prestigious high school in the country; he feared that it was too powerful, too realistic – if he let his imagination overpower him, he may as well render himself insane.

He needed to anchor himself more firmly to reality, or else he was done for – or so his parents and his adoptive sister have always lectured him about. And he has done well to follow their advice for the past 25 years of his life. It was the very fact that he had a family in this present time, had a healthy mother and father, a passably sane (though as overprotective as she was in his dreams) adoptive sister that helped him keep his sanity, or at the very least they were a large faction of what grounded him to reality; the other part, much larger than the first, was the person in his dreams – that person with cobalt eyes that were always adorned by this endearing dullness, which made them appear monochrome. Eren hypothesized that this little eye discoloration was due to the numerous horrors the other man has seen, after all they (inclusive of himself and the man inside his dreams, come nightmares) did live in a world of macabre.

That said, he shook himself out of his stand-still, despite the negative after-effects that threatened to haunt him for the rest of the day. He deemed it better to be in a slightly foul mood for the whole day, rather than get chewed on by Principal Pixis later on for his lack of noticeable interest in the address that will mark the start of the school year. The old man may be nice, but when it came to matters such as this one, matters which he gave grave importance to, he changed from a smiling senior citizen to an dictating authoritarian with some very unanswerable anger issues – far more unmanageable than his own, which was saying something.

Heaving a sigh, he allowed his blue-green eyes to show themselves once more to the world and he forced himself to concentrate on the speech of the freshman representative that was about to start at any moment.

Soft footsteps were heard from where he sat, their volumes greatly decreased by the chatters of the students and his distance from the stage, however, despite all that, they were very distinct and sharp, very loud, in fact – far too loud. He dismissed the thought – it was his imagination again, playing tricks on him; he did force himself out of a stand-still, which meant his senses and perception of reality were a bit shaken up.

They had to be.

They had to be, because if they weren't, then he most likely was still inside a dream. Maybe he had earlier woken up from a dream inside of another dream; he had, hadn't he?

He had.

He had.

He had.

He had, because if he hadn't, then he saw absolutely no logical explanation to this catastrophic phenomenon of apocalyptic proportions.

There was absolutely no way that the man in his dreams was standing in front of him, with the same authority, same demeanour, same atmosphere, same pensively sharp cobalt eyes, in the form of this year's freshman representative.

His eyes were wide, considerably wide and disbelieving.

This was not happening, this was – this was –

"My name is Levi Smith, the first year batch representative,"

Well God damn, it was happening, or so the very presence of the latter confirmed and whose sight was now travelling, seemingly sizing up his audience. Because of this gesture, the teen's cobalt eyes (the same shade, the same shade, the same shade, the same shade) soon locked with his own bewildered blue-green irises. And then he knew. He knew for sure that this boy of 16 was the same cobalt-eyed enigma that has plagued his dreams for as long as he can remember.

[Author's Note]

And thus the end of the first chapter, I will continue this. I just wanted to expand a comic I've read in where Eren was the older one and was a teacher and Levi was but a student, I do not know how the comic continues, so I guess I'll have to give it my own story.

Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, I still lack in some aspects of characterization and my grammar and word choice are probably atrocious, so please comment and critic.

Shingeki no Kyojin does not belong to me, which means that the characters here are not mine, I hope they are, but they are not and will never be, sadly.