Tell Her You Love Her

Step Four: Make Sure To See It Through

"I love you."

The words hang there in the space between us—the cool chasm collecting between our bodies. I bristle, each hair on my nape erect. Her eyes are expectant; searching; craving.

I clear my throat and stand; the warmth of her skin evaporating, making me shudder as I pause at the flickering hearth. The response to those three little words should be automatic—they should be easy. I love you, too…they should float off the tip of my tongue, still connected to a delicate strand of saliva hanging between us. Simple, right?

They're not.

They're foreign. A new language for me to decipher, to decode in the map of her skin, in the taste of her laugh, in the fluttering of her heart. One that my callousness does not lend itself to.

How? How can a monster like me give away nothing but hatred, and cynicism, and broken heartbeats; and yet, receive a love like hers? Pure, undiluted, fantastical love. Magical love.

And, suddenly, a wiry, precocious child appears in the fire, cradling his mother's brittle bones—willing her lungs to work, to continue taking tremulous breaths. His eyes are determined—fixed—with the desire to keep her magic alive. The only love he ever knew. The most precious thing he owned—the only thing. But, she withered away in the stench of sweat, and sex, and lies, and the man holding all of her promises in his fingers ran away without ever looking back at his son. With all of her magic and none of her grief.

"Levi…my boy…I love you." She'd whispered on her last breath. The life rattling from her throat—from her eyes.

"I love you, too." I murmur into my arm, braced against the wooden shelf just above the stone fireplace.

"Levi," her voice wraps around my name, pulling me back into the room; back into our tiny world. "Would you—would you mind if I slept here for the night?"

I give one curt nod before disappearing into the study adjoined to my room, pulling on my robe and pressing the door between us closed. Now was not the time for the past. It was not the time for sweet sentiments, or breathy sighs.

Now was the time for the magic of alcohol. For the elixir of bitter memories and clogged emotions.

I will wash this shit down. I will wash away these words…these feelings. There is no point in giving her promises I cannot keep…I will not be him.

I will not be him.

I will not…

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"I love you."

It was so faint I thought perhaps I'd dreamt it, but then her fingers brushed my hair behind the shell of one ear; her lips tender upon the skin right above my heart. It stutters, shaking beneath my ribcage, and I'm afraid it has given me away, but then she whispers, "I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you with every fiber of my being—no matter what you do or don't say. I love you unconditionally. I love you for being everything you are."

I feel her smile blossom upon my skin, those feminine fingers tracing lazily over my arm. "For the shrewdness and callousness; the brashness and vulgarity; the obsessive compulsive and the cynicism."

My eyes begin to open, staring into the bars of moonlight illuminating the window. Her head is poised just below mine, missing them blink open and closed. I am prepared to interrupt her rambling with a sarcastic, witty blow, but then she murmurs: "I love you for the gentleness, and the kindness, and the sensitivity, and the love that you hold for this world. For the weight you burden yourself with—for the role you have taken on for the sake of mankind. Levi, I fall in love with you every day, and I hope someday that I can be half the person you are to me for you. That I can somehow repay this favor to the man who deserves it most. I want to be whatever you need."

Her breath is warm, but I feel her shivering beneath me. That's when I hear it: her tears. A soft, terrified cry suffocated behind quivering lips. Something in me longs to swipe those tears from her cheeks; to steal her pain; to utter those words until she falls asleep.

But, I don't.

I decide to see things through. Plans I've crafted meticulously; plans my mind has convinced my heart will make things easier—simple. Detached; logical; cunning; cold. These are the things that make up my core.

Evil: I am evil.

Levi Ackerman is not kind, or gentle, or loving. He does not care about people. Not really. But, the lie is deteriorating, giving way to an undeniable truth. That I do indeed care about humanity. Even so, I cannot attach myself to her. I cannot afford to lose focus.

To lose another person.

There they all are in the corner of the room, staring dead eyed from the shadows. Isabel; Farlan; mother. They all watch me as I squeeze out the most hateful, false words I've ever said: "Petra, you will never be that person for me. I don't need anything from you—anything but what you have already handed over to me so willingly."

It takes a moment for the words to register as they ring in the still, dead air. Once they do, once they finally settle over her ears, she is writhing away from me and jumping from my grasp. She looms over me—shaking with anger. Her teeth are bared, and she growls ferociously, "You lie. You always lie. Dammit, Levi! Why? Why's it so hard for you to admit that you actually need me—that you love me?!"

Tears shine in the darkness upon pale cheeks, making angry pools on her collarbone. I roll away, pulling the blanket to my chin. "Because I don't, Petra. Don't confuse lust for love, girl. You still have much to learn."

I am shocked when no fist meets my face. When I do not receive a swift kick to my ass. But, the door does slam, and I am left with my self-inflicted sorrow. I am left with a dissolving warmth beside me and a cut inside my palm from clenched fingernails. But, the pain is nothing compared to the agony of her voice as she screamed: "LIAR!"

I am.

She is gone. Her patience is expended; love guttered like a low lit flame. I am alone. Just like I always wanted. Like I'd always needed.

How I wished that sentiment were true.

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading.