Chapter 8 – Keepsakes and Keepsafes
Michael
Morning comes and I eat my breakfast slowly, taking in the faces of those around me. Memorizing them and their places here in the mess hall gives me a sense of goodbye. When my eyes sweep over the room a second time, they stop at the sight of Kip walking through the open doors from the hallway. He's talking happily with his friend John. He catches my gaze and immediately looks away. I watch them walk across the large room and take a place in line; not trying to hide my staring. There's no one to impress, anyway.
After a moment I return to the food atop my tray and finish all but the bread as usual. Kip and John brush past me and sit a few tables away. I've finished eating and have cleaned up before I look to Kip again. Walking past them and without looking, I toss my bread roll onto his tray; making my way outside to the stables immediately after.
Saying goodbye to Trill was almost the hardest part of my day. When I first stepped into the stables, she greeted me excitedly and warmly. Being confined to such a small space is hard for her; the muscles in her strong legs already stiff and awkward. I brushed her thoroughly and cleaned her small area as best as I could. I'd tried not to think about this moment for too long. Now that it was here, I found tears in my eyes.
"Levi will take care of you, girl. You'll be better off here than outside the walls. Think of this as a rest! You'll eat every day and have plenty of water…" My comforting words were helping only myself. I left her after a short time with a bittersweet feeling in my chest.
I now make my way to the small area where the laundry is washed. Kip and John are there. The atmosphere changes noticeably when they hear my footsteps in the grass and look my way. It's quiet after they've stopped chatting; their hands each paused over a garment in their wash bins.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Kip's voice is cold as he looks back to his work.
I assume he's referring to our daily duties. "I've finished my work. I thought I'd come and see if you needed any help over here." My lips twitch up in an awkward smirk. I come in peace? Kip glances at me and then to John before nodding his head.
We work in silence for a while. Kip and John hand me their newly washed items and I ring them out before hanging them to dry. Systematically we make our way through the majority of the piles. An hour has passed and John stands awkwardly. "I'm not feeling so hot. My hands are too wrinkled to continue on! I don't know how you do this every day, man. I'm gonna take a break." He dries his hands on his apron and starts to walk away. "Take over for me, Michael?"
I recall Levi telling me not to spend today doing chores… but with no better option, I kneel down at the bin beside Kip and start scrubbing. He doesn't acknowledge me for a while and so my mind wanders. Did he not mean it when he said we should remain friends? Have I hurt him too much? Is it even worth the effort… I'll be gone tomorrow, anyway.
"Kip… are you… angry with me?" The words come out much more meekly than I intended; I worry he hasn't heard me. He sighs heavily and drops a white shirt into the wash with a splash. There is obvious hurt in his eyes when he finally looks at me.
"I'm not angry at you…" One of his muscular arms lifts up to wipe sweat from his wrinkled brows. "I'm angry at me, Michael. I never should have…. done that." He finishes his thought quietly; wary of anyone within earshot.
"Don't be angry. It's really alright. As I said before… it's not like I minded it…" My cheeks are heating up as I say it, but I've resolved to make my feelings clear. "It wouldn't be fair to you, however. I should tell you properly that… there's someone else that I like."
The hurt in his eyes has dissipated, but there are clear signs of lingering pain in the tense lines around them. "I see." He nods roughly and returns to work on the shirt in his wash bin. "I think… that actually makes me feel better. Somehow." I don't really get what he means, but I take it positively and continue with my own task. The mood is finally lighter and as the next hour passes we finish the remaining piles of laundry with small talk. The sun is directly above us in the sky and I can feel the burn on my skin indicating I've been here for too long. Luckily, the lunch bell rings.
Kip invites me to eat with him and John. I accept with indifference but in reality I am pleased to know things will be alright. We get seated and begin eating; thankfully there's no bread this time.
"Soooo does anyone wanna tell me why you two spent the morning ignoring each other?" John gives us both a playful and questioning gaze. Kip's eyes meet mine and we both turn away awkwardly.
"We just had a disagreement, is all. It's fine now." Kip shoves his friend's shoulder and tries to change the subject. "Hey! When do you guys think the next expedition will be? I've seen Erwin and the others looking pretty shady lately."
"No way it'll be so soon! We still have people recovering! Not to mention next week is when the new recruits show up. I'm sure they'll be waiting until our numbers are back up, yeah?"
John's mention of the new recruits brings back my sour thoughts. Tomorrow I'll be somewhere completely different, doing some entrance ceremony. All so I can saunter back here in three years like a real soldier. Not the joke of a soldier I passed for back then….
"Well, whenever it is… I'm gonna do better next time! No more of this bullshit cowardice…" His eyes are determined, and he's managed to contain the shake in his voice. Really, I feel proud.
"Ehhh!? So then, you'll be earning yourself a cool nickname some time, huh?" John digs an elbow into Kip and looks across the table to me with a sly grin. "Something like… Kip the Grip! 'Cause you're so strong?" Kip gives him the most amusing glare I've ever seen and shakes his head tiredly. "Awww, no? Then how about…." He trails off in deep thought and Kip looks grateful for the moment of silence. I can't help but ruin his relief with a little suggestion…
"Kippa-" I start, but hesitate. It's embarrassing… Despite my time with the boys, I've rarely joked around with them. I'm unsure how they will react but feel the words on my tongue and force them out. "Kippa the Rippa!" I hear a faint echo and the surrounding tables go quiet and look our way.
Shit! Too loud! My smile instantly turns to a grimace and I look to Kip; training my face to say 'I'm sorry' as best I can. His cheeks start to turn red again and I watch John's face change from confusion to realization.
"It's PERFECT! Kippa the RIPPA!" The boy practically leaps from his seat in excitement and laughs; hooking arms around Kip's neck and ruffling his hair like a child.
Though he glares at me angrily, I see a small twitch resembling a smile on Kip's pink lips. With that, I can't help but laugh myself. I give a big, goofy grin to Kip; hoping he takes it as a farewell gift. The tables around us are laughing through their confusion, but eventually calm down and forget about us. Kip remains grumpy throughout lunch. When I part with them afterwards, my chest feels lighter and I can happily say Kip will be just fine.
Take care of each other. I let my feet carry me to my bed in the barracks, where I fall into the mattress for a while; listening to the silence and clearing my mind. That's right. I have things to do.
The old trunk at the end of the bunk bed creaks when I open the lid. I've been fortunate so far; my bunkmate doesn't appear to have any extra belongings to store here. My swords and cloak have remained undisturbed, and the new clothes from Levi are still folded immaculately. I haven't brought myself to move them. The symmetry of the folds and crisp, deliberate edges are each a reminder of Levi's quirks. I hadn't expected him to fold them for me when he brought them here, but each was obviously cared for and gently placed within the trunk for me to find. Underneath the stack of clothing I find the original cloth sack that held them, and so I busy myself filling it. After carefully placing all but two items in the bag, I close up the ends and place it back into the trunk.
Now, seeing Levi would be the real hardest part of my day.
Levi
I spent the day in my room. I opted out of both breakfast and lunch before giving in to my angry stomach and fetching dinner; which I then brought to my room to enjoy. The day passed idly as I finalized paperwork for Erwin and plans for Michael. Keeping busy in the quiet room was somehow therapeutic. I didn't need to think about the events happening tonight.
Why had I agreed to see him again? As I sit here staring down at the warm meal atop my desk, only conflicting emotions fill me. I've spent the day hiding from Michael; hiding from these thoughts. Now that night has come I find them catching up to me. My paperwork is done and preparations are complete. In the dead of night tonight my underground contacts will sneak Michael away and take him from my protection. I work my way through the meal slowly; each bite representing a new emotion or thought I wish to swallow and never see again. I am pulled from my brooding when Michael's usual knock hits the door. I push my dinner tray back until it hits the wall and rise to let Michael in.
As he steps through the threshold my breath catches, and it's a feeling my body is growing accustomed to with him. Rather than appearing in his usual attire, the standard uniform; he's wearing the white shirt and black pants from our outing yesterday. The soft fabric of the pants hugs his hips perfectly; guiding my eyes down his legs, to his feet, and back up again. The skin of his collarbones peeks out of his dress shirt. He's left the top buttons undone in a messy way that I both hate and adore. Michael looks like a freshly painted canvas; gifted only to me.
I allow my eyes to settle on his and notice a flush in his cheeks. He saw me… staring at him. He inclines his head in a small greeting and closes the door behind him before taking a few steps into the room. I can't stop the awkward shifting of my legs as I try to remain casual. Did I upset him? Does he care?
After clearing his throat quietly, he addresses me for the first time today. "Good evening, Levi." His voice is smooth, and somehow intimate in the way he coos my name. There's a calm happiness in his eyes that I hadn't expected to see. What had I expected? "Thank you for having me here tonight." He is watching me closely and suddenly I am nervous. Seriously. What had I expected?
In an attempt to shift the mood I motion to the teakettle atop the desk, resting beside my forgotten dinner tray. He nods and thanks me as I pour us both a cup. The smell of the relaxing blend brings my mind back to order and so I allow my attention to settle on Michael again; this time on his hands. He extends a familiar bundle towards me and I automatically reach out to take it.
The two swords clank together as my arms dip under their weight. The cloth of the cloak slides around the metal and leather loosely. "I know it may be a bother, but… would you keep them safe for me? They're all I have left from my home, yet I can't take them with me." His voice drops to a low whisper towards the end of his sentence and I finally see behind his mask. He's hurting after all.
"Sure. I'll keep them safe and hidden." I shift the swords to my left hand and extend my right towards Michael. He takes it firmly and shakes to seal the deal. His warm hand has softened after days without battle. When he pulls away, my own hand feels chilled and lost. As I place the bundle underneath my bed for temporary hiding, Michael sits in the chair at the desk and sips the tea I poured for him.
"Thanks, Levi. I know you're probably tired of hearing that, but…" he trails off and lets the sentence linger in the air. I pull up my usual seat and relax. We sit in content silence for a time and my mind wanders once again to all of the things I cannot say. As if I've ever been able to express myself. When my teacup empties I look towards Michael. His long hair is swept back in it's usual place; tied tightly with his old bandana. An idea comes to mind.
"Oi." He turns a surprised look my way and I continue. "What about that hair? I assumed it was long because you had no way to cut it. Don't tell me you actually like it that way?" I curse myself for ruining what was meant to be a normal question with an insult.
Luckily, Michael doesn't seem fazed. "I hate it, actually. I'm pretty adverse to hair in general. Fortunately I don't have much facial hair to worry about, but there was never anything I could do about this." He points to the top of his head as if to make a statement. "I've always kept it short when I could."
I stand and stretch before walking over to my small nightstand, where I extract a pair of scissors from underneath my piles of paperwork. "I'll cut it for you. Stand up." I expect him to give some reaction, but he merely nods and stands as I've asked. I walk over to the desk and shove it a few feet over; effectively blocking the door but opening up the area where it once was. The mirror that usually hangs above the desk is now easily accessible and so I replace Michael's chair in front of it. "Sit." Again, he complies without a word while reaching his hand back and untying his hair. I watch his reflection in the mirror as the long strands of hair fall down around his chin and neck. A few longer pieces brush the smooth skin of his collarbones. The top of his white dress shirt is clearly going to be a problem. In fact, I have nothing to protect him from falling hair; so the whole shirt is a problem. I'm hesitant now. My earlier commands were simple enough, but would he finally react to this one? How will I react to it? "Take off your shirt."
He jumps noticeably in his seat and his reflection is a perfect shade of rose-pink. I watch as he swallows a large breath; his Adam's Apple dipping slightly as his hands trail down his chest, button by button. With each new piece of flesh revealed I feel the blood rushing in my veins. He folds his shirt neatly and places it atop the desk nearby.
The first time my fingertips slip into his soft hair, he shivers. I move slowly and meticulously, savoring the closeness. His shoulders are tense when my fingers graze them, collecting sections of hair to trim. Whenever my eyes peek at the mirror to check my work from the front, his gaze is trained on me intently; leaving me unfamiliarly nervous. Once all the perimeter of his hair has been trimmed to an appropriate length, I allow my hands to wander the smooth flesh of his neck; brushing aside the long, loose strands that have fallen there. In the moments I slip and show a bit of want towards Michael, he never shies away from me.
He rejected Kip… would he reject me?
My fingers are still lingering over his shoulders. I glance at the mirror again to see that he is still watching me, and his eyes are dark and hooded; casting a shadow over his blushed cheeks. The confidence that usually fills me has been fading, but the look in his eyes brings it back in startling stride. I make a choice. My touch trails down to each of his collarbones and I rest my palms firmly on either side of his neck. Our eyes never disconnect in the mirror as I trace small circles around his nape with my thumbs. His flesh is hot and inviting when he leans into the touch; telling me with certainty that this is alright. He won't push me back like he did with Kip.
There's a tightness in my chest that I can't begin to explain, and when I see his lips part with a pleasurable sigh the tightness travels southward and into my hips. I lean down and bring my lips to his ear; hovering there as my mind races with the many possibilities.
What am I doing? I shouldn't be thinking about things like this…
Even as the thought rushes through me, a more prominent and instinctual urge overcomes it. My right hand slides up from his collar and under his chin; guiding him to turn his head. For the first time our eyes disconnect from the mirror and reconnect here in the real world; merely inches apart as we pause to absorb the closeness. Even after coming this far, a doubtful thought tugs at me and I hesitate just a moment too long; it's almost uncomfortable. Just when I'm about to hate myself for it, Michael's body shifts fractionally and his lips are on mine; a hand grasping my own that still remains on his shoulder. He's gentle and shaky as if afraid I might run.
I won't run. I can't run, now.
When I respond by pressing firmly into his kiss, he seems reassured; confidently sucking at my lips with more power than before. There's passion in the way he moves and the small moans that escape him when we briefly part. As we come together again I slide my tongue over his lip and he welcomes me hungrily; moving his tongue in rhythm with my own. He allows me full control when I gently tug at his hair, tilting his head for a more favorable angle. There's warmth spreading throughout my entire being and I know it won't be fading any time soon.
When I'm certain that I've lost my mind to a needy haze, I pull away gently and open my eyes. He's returning my look with a needy expression that shakes me to my core and I want to- need to have him, but my sense gets the better of me. I pull farther away with heavy breath and study his face carefully. I'll memorize every bit before saying goodbye.
We don't say anything further and instead I return to his haircut. Whenever my eyes meet his again in the mirror, I try to keep a smile from my mouth upon noticing his expression. Michael's face is laughable; a smug smile plays on his lips while his cheeks remain blushed. It shows his youth perfectly and reminds me of the sides of him that only I get to see. With the haircut completed, Michael stands and inspects himself before brushing the stray hair from his chest and clothing. I quickly begin clearing the hair from the floor and Michael wastes no time putting the furniture back in place. When we have run out of tasks to busy ourselves with we are left in an awkward silence. Michael now stands at the desk, leaning against it for support while I stand uncertainly a few feet in front of him. His eyes aren't meeting mine but his playful smirk still tugs at his lips.
"How much time… do we have?" His voice is quiet and quivering. Knowing now that I won't be pushed away, I move closer. He's replaced his shirt but left it unbuttoned; a trail of smooth skin leads my gaze down his chest to the small trail of hair at his navel. I'm only inches away when I stop and raise a hand to brush his cheek soothingly.
"An hour, maybe less…" His hand reaches up to hold mine still against his cheek.
"I kissed Kip because he reminded me of you, somehow." The sudden topic change shocks me and I pull my hand away. "And I stopped kissing him because he isn't you." Michael closes the remaining distance between us and wraps his arms around me. I don't return the gesture; embracing people isn't really my thing. He doesn't seem discouraged, however, and simply holds me like that for a long and content moment. In just the short time since Michael entered my room this evening, I've been nothing like myself. The array of unfamiliar emotions I feel when he speaks again follows right along the same path. "I'm sorry, Levi."
The words are hot in my ear and my head spins. I've no frame of reference for how to act; having never experienced these things before. For lack of creativity, I simply nuzzle my nose into the crook of his neck and allow him to tighten his hold on me.
We spend the remaining time sitting closely atop my bed; Michael holds my hand and tells me quiet stories of his home. With each small memory I feel a stronger sense of unease. I can almost feel the swords from under my bed, begging to come out and be cared for. When the time comes for him to sneak outside, he squeezes my hand and places a simple, gentle kiss on my lips. I return the motion and add a few pecks of my own. "Goodbye for now, Levi."
"I'll see you in three years, Misha." Count on it.
He leaves my room quietly, with a painful expression and a hanging head. I'm sure it's apparent that I don't sleep that night; or many after.
AUTHOR NOTES:
I apologize that this chapter took so much longer than the others to post! I had a lot going on that was keeping me occupied. Even when I finally sat down to write it, it took me 4x as long as usual! This chapter was difficult for me to write, but I hope that you all still enjoy it. As always, concrit welcome 3 I don't know if I've mentioned this previously but I do have a tumblr where I occasionally remember to post about WC stuff (I'm new to it and so I often forget) but feel free to follow me at .com; where I track 'fic: world citizens' and 'world citizens' and maybe others idefk.