Chapter 34: Listening to Fear


"You're so beautiful." Her voice was the faintest whisper.

Nora felt a bit like she was floating, not quite down from her high yet, which was probably why she managed to say it—and also because she'd wanted to for a long time. She was sitting astride him, her legs bracketing his hips—still on the floor of his bedroom, right next to the perfectly comfortable bed they'd somehow missed—and he was lying on his back before her. The dim lighting outlined the sharp angles of his face, the silver glint of his heavy-lidded eyes and the dark circles surrounding them, his pitch-black hair, tousled and sweat-dampened from their activities, the curve of his lips—soft and relaxed, for once.

And his body, strong and lean, chiselled to perfection just like his face, every muscle well defined. From top to bottom, Levi was all sharp lines, hard edges, and solid planes between ridges.

While his face remained flawless—if you were into the morose, permanently sleep-deprived look, which Nora apparently was—life had carved its mementos into his body. In her eyes, each scar added to his unique beauty instead of taking away from it. Some were snowy white, whiter than his marble skin, but most were darker, standing out in clear contrast.

She traced them with her fingers, starting on his shoulders and biceps and working her way down his torso, marvelling at the play of his abdominal muscles as they flexed under her touch. Most of his scars seemed to stem from old knife wounds, harbouring stories he wouldn't tell. A few—the more vicious ones—she could distinguish from his otherwise silky, even skin under her fingertips; they were rough and slightly raised.

They were all part of the puzzle that was him, and she intended to figure out every last piece, one day.

"Beautiful," she murmured again, almost inaudibly, more to herself than anything else.

Still a piece of art, to her. And still, it was hard to believe he really existed, that this thing between them really existed; so detached from reality, from the painful, devastating mess that was their life.

Levi had been watching her watching him—and she was well aware she must have been ogling him like a big cup of her favourite, freshly brewed tea held under her nose—with a crease between the sharp lines of his brows, the scepticism in his expression undeniable. His hands were resting on the tops of her thighs, the calloused pads of his thumbs idly caressing her skin. Idle or not, her body kept reacting to his every touch; her goosebumps just wouldn't go away.

"You've got shit taste," he told her, his delectable, deep voice dry and blunt, "Not that I'm complaining."

Nora was baffled enough to forget her embarrassment over her intimate statement.

"You can't be serious." She shook her head at him, her fingers stilling on his abdomen. "False modesty really doesn't suit you."

His eyes drifted to the side. "Tsk. I don't have time for modesty, false or otherwise. Especially not over irrelevant shit like this."

Frowning, she contemplated his expression. He seemed to be serious. "You're telling me you don't know you're hot?"

A ripple of something ghosted over his face—gone so fast Nora could not place it.

"I don't think I meet the typical standards." He sounded bored and offhand.

"You don't need to. You are... attractive in your own way." What an understatement that was. She felt heat creep into her cheeks.

Levi's eyes met hers again, scrutinising her, his brows slightly raised. "Was that what you thought when we met?"

Oh, she could answer that honestly, no problem. "I thought that handsome face was wasted on such a prick." Nora grinned.

One corner of his lips twitched as he scowled. "Didn't you say I look weary all the time?"

"Yeah, so? Weary is the new sexy."

He huffed. "I know I'm repeating myself, but you are even crazier than I thought."

Her grin broadened. Amusement had won out over her initial embarrassment.

"Levi Ackerman doesn't know he's good-looking. Who'd have guessed."

He looked away again, his scowl deepening. "Shut up."

Nora chuckled, feeling accomplished. Managing to both annoy him and make him uncomfortable at the same time was a rare treat. For a moment, she intended to leave him in peace, but then she thought of something better. Something she had been curious about for quite a while.

"Okay, change of subject." She leaned forward, bracing her arms on his chest. "So, tell me... When we met, what did you think of my hair?" Her mane fell down on either side of his face, like a curtain separating them from the outside world.

Levi's eyes darkened. Their faces were close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. "I thought it was a fucking disgrace." His voice had dropped even lower, sending a shiver down her spine. Despite his rude words, he buried his hands in her hair and gave a slight tug, grazing her scalp as his fingers curled around the strands. The sensation travelled over her skin and right to her centre.

Nora's breathing quickened, and she almost forgot what she had intended to say. "Really? Because for some reason, I believe you like it. What were the exact words?" She paused for effect, whispering when she continued. "Ah, I remember. Smells nice, right? Perfectly fucking fine."

"Yeah, that too," he answered throatily, "Annoys me most when you wear it open." And he pulled her in, closing the last few centimetres' distance between their faces until their lips met.

Levi's hands remained tangled in her hair as he kissed her.

#

Nora's eyes blinked open to the broad daylight of a bright summer morning streaming in through the open window. Levi was already awake, propped up on one elbow, playing with a lock of her hair between his fingers. The blanket pooled around his hips, the sunlight illuminating his pale skin, accentuating the contours of his muscular body.

Waking up next to him, stark naked, would never get old.

Outside, the birds were chittering away noisily.

Once she'd made sense of her surroundings rather than let herself get distracted by the man lounging next to her, her eyes widened in alarm. "Shit, how late is it already?"

"Half past six." He seemed utterly unbothered by her distress.

"Dammit." She started to sit up, grimacing as she accidentally braced herself on her long hair, giving herself a sharp tug. "Why didn't you wake me? I have to—"

"Relax." He pushed her back into the pillow with ease, rolling his tired eyes. "Aside from us, there are eight soldiers left. Each and every one of them saw how I—" He broke off, his jaw clenching. "Smuggling you out of here would be unnecessary and ridiculous, at this point."

It was true. With a sigh, Nora thought of the occasional, knowing glances she'd been noticing from her squad mates for weeks. Then there was Hange, who had known about them even before there'd been anything to know, and Floch, who might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but sure had eyes—and had witnessed whatever it was Levi didn't want to elaborate on. The rookie had made his opinion on that whole affair perfectly clear, after all.

Well, not her fucking problem, was it? She had enough on her own. Plus, it wasn't like she was any fonder of Floch than he was of her. No use dwelling on things out of her control.

Instead, she considered the implications behind Levi's words. "So, if we left your room together, just as someone happened to pass by…?" She left the question open-ended.

"I wouldn't give a single shit." His deep voice was flat and resolute. The point-blank admission made her heart jump. His gaze was thoughtful, and after the shortest hesitation, he asked, "Would you?"

Nora rubbed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him while she answered—and to hide her surprise. "No. There are more than enough other things to worry about."

It might not be the most prudent way to go about it, but she was tired of sneaking around. It seemed so pointless, after what they'd been through. A useless waste of her energy.

So what if people knew they were sleeping together? Sure, it wasn't anyone's business, but in the grand scheme of things, risking to be the subject of gossip seemed a negligible drawback. Most times, she was oblivious to what people were gossiping about, anyways.

Levi was still watching her, his expression as glum as always on mornings. She realised abruptly yet another thing she liked about his authentic, generally gruff self; not once had Nora felt pressured to force a smile, and it had never even occurred to her to be anyone else but her unfiltered, true self around him. Somehow, it had always been like this, with him—even before she'd come to like him.

Well, she sure liked the bastard well enough, now.

With his face hovering mere inches above hers, and his hand still resting below her collarbones as if to hold her in place, she almost opened her mouth to share her thought process with him—except there was that lump in her throat again, and that full, too-tight feeling in her chest, constricting her lungs.

Instead, she reached out—because that was infinitely easier—and cupped his jaw with her hand, trailing her fingers over the faint stubble there. Exclusively on early mornings, before they got out of bed, there was a roughness to his jaw and cheeks, the slightest shadow of a beard distinguishable. As soon as Levi got up, he always returned to his clean-shaven self, no exceptions. Even when they'd been outlaws on the run, this had been the case—he must be able to shave without a mirror, if need be. Nora wasn't surprised.

He could have been a statue, the way his stare kept boring through her, unchanged by her touch. His fingers twitched against her skin, though.

"You seemed restless, in your sleep," he said out of nowhere, startling her out of her reverie, "What kind of shit were you dreaming?"

Her fingers on his cheek stilled, and she felt her expression freeze under his scrutiny. "You are watching me sleep?"

Levi frowned, probably displeased by her obvious deflection. "Sometimes," he answered, surprising her.

"Great." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I don't drool, do I?"

"No. But you make these annoying smacking sounds on occasion, and your hair gets fucking everywhere because you can't lie still for long."

"Oh, bloody hell." The revelation might be marginally less embarrassing than Nora had feared, but was that much more worrying. "Am I keeping you from falling asleep?"

He hesitated just long enough to make her doubt his answer, his slate-grey eyes unreadable. "No, you don't."

What she needed to say next left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Because you aren't getting enough as is, and if me staying over makes it worse, I should probably go back to my room—"

"I already said you aren't keeping me awake, brat." Levi glared at her, his jaw clenching under her palm, his patience as non-existent as usual. "But you will be, if you decide to come here for a fuck only to piss off right after."

Her hackles raised together with her pulse—for a reason unrelated to her vexation—and for a moment, she wanted to snap back at him. Didn't he realise she was just trying to be considerate? The meaning behind his cutting remark was impossible to ignore, however, and something about his anger held her back. He looked… cornered. Hurt, almost.

Shit, but he really, truly did want her to stay the nights, didn't he? His grumbling about her sleeping habits notwithstanding. He didn't just tolerate it for her sake—seeing as it was no secret she slept better in his presence.

"Alright. We're on the same page, then," Nora managed to say in a wobbly voice.

The tension drained from Levi's features—though his steely gaze lost nothing of its defiant intensity.

"Just one thing…" She bit her lip, averting her eyes. "If you notice me being… particularly restless, please wake me up."

#

The next few nights, Nora did not use her own room. At all. Well, for anything other than occasionally sneaking more of her clothes and toiletry into Levi's room.

She tried not to think about it too much.

He had provided her with some space in his wardrobe and cleared a shelf in his shower and his bathroom cabinet for her stuff, claiming he didn't want her creating a "shitty mess" with her things always strewn around everywhere.

She tried not to think about that, either.

Because when she let herself dwell on this significant part of her life—these stolen nights and mornings of fleeting, delirious happiness that she could not reconcile with the rest of her reality—she'd inevitably start overanalysing and thinking on how quickly this could end until she panicked.

Aside from occasional strategic meetings in which the remaining Scouts discussed their next steps—plans for Maria's repopulation and replenishing their ranks—they were off duty in the week following the devastating battle.

In the official meeting the day after their return, no one in the military government had bitten off Nora's head—or Levi's, for that matter, because who would dare—for surviving while Erwin had died. There had been glances in her direction, yes. Most disbelieving, some unsure, and a select few even contemptuous.

However, the mission to retake Wall Maria had been a success, at least in the most basic sense of the word, and therefore, no one protested. The ten remaining soldiers of the Survey Corps were regarded as the 'Heroes of Shiganshina', by citizens and the Assembly alike. After all, they had fulfilled the main goal of the dangerous undertaking and defeated two of Paradis' biggest known enemies—the Armoured and Colossal Titan—and managed to acquire the powers of the latter for their cause. No wonder the Scouts got a rare reprieve from any complaints about their unconventional decisions.

With her report, Hange further cemented the government's acceptance of Levi's choice by putting emphasis on Nora's role in killing the two shifters, detailing her actions as the Special Ops squad's second in command in order to finish off Reiner and incapacitate Bertolt. Even though all of it had been a team effort. When Nora had opened her mouth to rectify this—as she felt—one-sided and glorifying portrayal of her deeds, Levi had kicked her shin under the table; effectively preventing her from intervening and earning her looks for the stifled curse escaping her.

And that was certainly the worst thing she did not want to think about, yet had to, on a daily basis; what she had become, and that she would have to face it very soon.

Hange didn't even give her a warning, beforehand. A week after their return, she pulled Nora up from the breakfast table by her sleeve.

"Come on, I want to examine you." There was a greedy glint in Hange's uncovered eye. The bandage around the left side of her head was gone, replaced by a simple, black eye patch.

Nora got up hesitantly, screwing up her face in distaste. "Do I have to? I can answer whatever questions you have without—"

"I need to see for myself. What kind of scientist would I be if I'd simply rely on the word of my test subject?" While Nora could see her friend's reason, being referred to as a 'test subject' wasn't exactly reassuring. With a disconcerting smile, Hange added, "Plus, I want to take a blood sample."

"Ugh. Fine."

Levi stood up as well, eyeing Hange with distrust. "I'll come with you two, make sure four-eyes doesn't get carried away and decides to dissect you."

Brows furrowed, Hange started to protest. "I'd never—"

"Let us just get this over with, please." Nora led the way to the empty hospital wing before the two could start arguing.

A few minutes later, Nora watched the needle sink into the skin at the crook of her arm. It stung a little. From the corner of her eye, where he was leaning against the nearest wall, she thought she saw Levi flinch almost imperceptibly as he watched the procedure.

She lifted her brows at him. "What?" His expression was tense and dismayed, which made no sense to her; he might be a clean freak, but when it came to blood or injuries, he was the least squeamish person she knew—Hange aside.

"He's probably associating this with… an unpleasant memory," Hange answered for him when he stayed silent. She pulled the needle out once she had taken three vials of blood, handing Nora some gauze drenched with rubbing alcohol.

"Oh," she just said, because she couldn't think of anything else. Arms crossed, Levi was scowling at Hange, but didn't contradict her.

Nora lifted the gauze, inspecting the puncture on her arm. A small sliver of steam rose from the tiny wound. Barely ten seconds later, it had vanished completely.

A cold sensation trickled down Nora's neck, her stomach churning.

Until now, a small part of her had still refused to believe it—despite her disturbing dreams. And she still couldn't comprehend she was supposed to be able to turn into—

Don't even think about it.

"Ooh." Hange's eye was wide and full of wonder behind her glasses. She had watched the regeneration eagerly, trailing a finger along Nora's freshly healed skin. "I've seen it so often with Eren, but still, this is—"

"Stop it, Shitty Glasses. Can't you see how creeped out she is?" Levi was watching the two with a dark expression.

He was right, but that didn't mean Nora liked him pointing it out.

"Sorry," Hange said, taking in her face. Even without a mirror, Nora knew she was probably even paler than usual, right now. She felt a little sick.

"Stop apologising. We all paid our price for the mission. And the ones who paid the highest aren't here, anymore. But I am." Nora swallowed as she looked at the crook of her arm, again. "And I'm not made of glass—now less than ever before." Her lips curled into a sardonic smile, and she met Hange's concerned gaze. "I can't keep ignoring this. Might as well let you have some fun."

And if she weren't utterly terrified, at the moment, she would be curious, herself.

"Right." Hange nodded, smiling. An analytical, intense expression returned to her face, comforting in its familiarity, and Nora could almost hear the gears in her head turning. "How far does the regeneration go, for you? What about old wounds? What about birthmarks and other skin alterations? What about your scars? I didn't have the opportunity to get a closer look back when—"

"Slow down, Hange." Nora thought for a few seconds. "I think I have all the birthmarks and freckles and stuff I've had before. I don't think I've any scars left, though."

Strangely enough, looking at this from a strictly factual standpoint helped with her anxiety, better than trying not to think about it at all. Maybe she should have had the guts to tackle this subject with Hange a few days earlier, already. Gaining knowledge—even if it was bad news—had always been preferable to her over fighting the unknown. It helped Nora stay calm and detached, gave her something potentially useful to think about, making it easier to focus on facts rather than unpleasant, complicated emotions.

She'd always been better with facts.

"Let me take a look. Strip down to your underwear," Hange commanded, all business. Then, she remembered there was an additional person in the room. "Levi." She flicked her head from him towards the door.

"What? Don't be ridiculous; I've already seen it all." He sounded bored, raising a brow at his new commander, not moving an inch. "I can tell you for a fact she doesn't have a single scar left anywhere on her body."

For a few rare seconds, Hange was left speechless. Not that it was news, but she probably hadn't expected him to be so… straightforward about it. Nora sure hadn't—not outside the privacy of the bedroom. Her face heated.

She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Although Levi didn't like talking about anything personal—or talking, in general—he liked beating uselessly around the bush even less. Uncompromisingly honest as he was, he had no patience for pretence. It was one of the reasons why she… got along with him.

Nora cleared her throat. "He's got a point." She shrugged and pulled her shirt over her head.

"Ah," Hange said, glancing between them shrewdly, "So we are openly admitting it, now?"

Levi didn't even blink. "That doesn't mean you get to be an even bigger pain in the ass about it than you already are."

#

The prospect of war did not seem as much of a deterrent for new recruits as Nora would have thought. Young, starry-eyed cadets were falling over themselves in their eagerness to join the Survey Corps; to aid the Heroes of Shiganshina, who had brought Paradis' first, real victory against the titans—and the warriors of Marley—back with them. After over five years, Maria was once again within reach for the people of Paradis, promising prosperity, land, food and other luxuries.

Promising home, for many.

The young soldiers saw partaking in the repopulation efforts for the territory inside Wall Maria as an honourable, meaningful career choice.

And while that was certainly the case, they did a great job ignoring the danger lurking beyond the ocean; an ocean they hadn't even seen, yet. 'War' and 'nations' were nothing more than an abstract concept.

Nora did not envy them for their ignorance; it simply made her tired. After all, the last bunch of optimistic recruits had been shredded to bits in a throwing game played by one of their most powerful enemies with a sadistic streak as wide as Shiganshina. When she pointed that out one evening over dinner with her squad mates, discussing the high spirits of the fresh recruits, Nora effectively killed the mood. The only thing she could have said in her defence was that she was really tired, because dreaming about Zeke Jaeger sucked almost as much as dreaming about Annie Leonhart. And Levi, impervious to the discomfort of those around him, had agreed and helpfully supplied that the "asshole had sure been enjoying himself".

It was the unpleasant truth, and all the survivors of the Battle knew it. The point they were trying to make was that preparing those who hadn't witnessed it themselves could prove crucial for their survival in the battles to come. Currently, the overall consensus among civilians and young cadets alike was—after the first shock about the truth of the world had subsided—hopeful and, frankly, dangerously naïve.

Who cared if their enemy was superior in numbers, knowledge and technological progress? After all, they had survived the titans and were currently in the process of wiping them out with a killing machine and zero casualties—doing nothing but wait, prepare, and train the rookies in the meantime. Moreover, they'd already beaten their enemy once, they had their damned Walls, the Founding Titan, and now, they had even stolen the Colossal from Marley.

A powerful instrument for mass destruction, that much everyone could remember well enough. And because the world was absurd, this very fact had become a celebrated topic all over the newspapers and on the streets.

It was in the nature of humanity to believe they would always prevail. And they would believe so until the moment their gates were breached and death was at their doorstep—again.

Eren had become somewhat of a celebrity, to his chagrin—more than before the Battle, even. Nora was luckier in that regard; aside from the Assembly, the Survey Corps and the commanders of all military branches, the identity of the Colossal was kept secret. Hange and Zackly had seen to that.

There was no reason to reveal to the public exactly who of the ten survivors of the Battle was the second shifter. After this crazy year, the possibility of yet another spy amongst their people didn't seem that far-fetched.

Of course, something like this wasn't likely to be kept hidden forever. But for now, Nora sure wouldn't complain about being spared the attention and stares.

###

As he scaled the Wall, he already knew what he would find on the other side. His insides churned with cold dread.

It was the same every single time, and yet, every single time, he hoped it would be different.

He landed on the roof below, next to her mangled body. Burnt, bloody flesh. Barely recognisable, just enough so that it would haunt him forever.

He knelt, shaking like a leaf. Warm droplets of water fell on his hands as he struggled to open the case, like the beginning of a thunderstorm in summer.

Once he had assembled the injection, he drove the needle into her arm.

Nothing happened. She was lying still, motionless, torn.

She was dead already, and he was too late.

He was always too late.

Levi jerked awake, very nearly jumping out of the bed. He blinked, the familiar outlines of his bedroom slowly coming into focus.

His eyes were dry. His heart was pounding like it wanted to burst out of his skin. Agonising grief tore through his insides like acid, corroding his bones.

The beginning awareness that he'd been dreaming did not immediately quell the pain and panic. He turned his head, struggling to see in the slowly fading darkness that preceded dawn.

Nora was lying next to him, flawless and whole. He strained his ears until he could hear her breathing, deep and even.

Immense relief washed through him, dulling the hurt and fear to a bearable, ever-present residue tugging in his chest, the back of his brain. His pulse calmed somewhat.

That was it with his sleep for the night.

He squinted at the clock on his bedside table. It hadn't been much more than two hours since they'd fallen asleep arm in arm, naked and exhausted and satisfied. His skin felt cold and clammy. He looked back at her face, almost fearing she had disappeared.

For a while, he just lay there, watching and listening to her sleep, contemplating if he should get up. Maybe do some paperwork. He quickly dismissed the idea. That would be so goddamn boring he'd only end up thinking about things he really did not want to think about; the images flashing before his eyes vivid from his recent dream.

Every time he blinked, he saw it.

Sometimes, he'd dream about flying stones, bone-curdling screams, broken bodies, blood and innards. Sometimes, it was Erwin, talking about the truth before the light went out in his eyes.

But most times, it was her, and a variant of this fucking nightmare. He wouldn't have thought it possible that he'd ever miss the nightmares he'd had before the Battle. They, at least, had been less frequent and not quite as close to reality.

Once, the people whose lives he had taken used to haunt his dreams. That was long ago; so long he hadn't even known what the sky looked like, back then.

Good old times.

How these memories had tortured him, once. Back when he had cared about the blood on his hands, had been not quite as fucked up. He would trade back those occasional nightmares for the ones of his present in a heartbeat.

He'd rather watch people he didn't give a shit about die over and over than those who… those who mattered. Comrades, friends, family.

And her.

He desperately wanted to let it rest, to shove it all away and just get over it because dwelling on the past was useless. To be glad he still had her—for now—and move on, but his shit brain wouldn't let him. Raw, suffocating terror had been slowly taking root inside of him ever since he knew her and—after being confronted with the horror of his fears turning to reality—had settled bone-deep within him, become a part of his very essence.

Just like Nora had. His world had once been the unknown vastness beyond the Walls—now, it was contained in a single, tiny, nutty woman.

Never pegged ya for the type growing weak over another person. Levi thought about Kenny's words often, and had to agree with the piece of shit on that matter, as much as it peeved him. We're all drunk on something. Everyone is a slave to something.

Or, in other words, he was obsessed, and he was fucked—nothing new there.

And he was embracing it with open arms; literally, as he wrapped them around her. He usually wouldn't do that, in the middle of the night, unwilling to risk waking her—he had to shake her awake often enough already, seeing as she seemed to have at least double the number of nightmares he had—but he indulged into yet another selfish desire, now, hoping to chase away the image of her gruesomely disfigured body seared behind his lids.

Given enough time, the fresh, undiluted pain and terror would dull to something he could manage; always remaining a permanent part of him he could mostly ignore, just like an old scar that occasionally pulled. He knew that from experience… even though it was probably worse than ever before.

Nora was warm from sleep. Her heat seeped through his cold skin, encasing the iciness in his chest. For now, at least.

It was just as well. The present had always been all they had.


AN: This probably could have been better or more concise, but oh well. Brain said no. I know it's time to say fuck it when I start editing stuff only to change it back to how it was minutes later.

But hey - the banter and bickering are back in full force.

I guess it's getting harder the closer we get to the end. Tying up what needs to be tied up in here and leaving the rest, for example. And there's still some stuff that needs to be addressed before this story ends...