hi.
"Do you think," she whispers into the dark, soft enough not to spur him completely awake but firm enough for him to understand her words. "Do you think that if we had enough time?"—And Levi could only remember how true this statement actually stands. There's never enough time, could never be enough while they're living off borrowed time. The cruelty of the goddesses who have always sought pleasure from their pain–" There could be possibly a chance of this? Us? Of wanting more?"
Levi remembers their early days, of promised vows, of whispered dreams of a house on a hill and the little baby girl or boy who'd no matter what look exactly like Petra, because Levi's sure that if anything, she'd leave reminders of any form. Because Petra is eternal, will remain eternal forever, while he rots, and withers and dies.
But he tries to drown out those vice-like thoughts, tries to ignore the slight tightening in his chest at the reminder that this is only temporary. A vicious cycle of give and take; one where Levi's always the giver but never the receiver because Petra needs this. Needs it more than him. He'll move on and slowly fade away while she's left to roam forever.
The goddesses have never been kind.
So instead of replying, he pulls her closer wrapping his arms around her waist in an embrace. Pressing her head right against his chest and letting the constant beating of his heart lull her to sleep. A firm reminder that he's here. He's still here, with her.
If he hears her mutter out prayers, he doesn't show.