CHAPTER 5

Late Fall - Winter

Levi, for all intents and purposes, had led a relatively easy, and expectation free life. It was reflected in the way that he led his life—carefree, more socially awkward than you would expect, and him, with zero expectations for the outcomes in life. Back in Quebec, his parents were lax and gentle with their son. They would nurture him when he came home, and they weren't overbearing in any way. When they found out where he wanted to go for college, they were delighted, and if Levi remembers correctly, after he'd told them about his acceptance, his mom had gone back to cutting the carrots, and his dad left for the market to go buy a carton of milk. His sister, Mikasa, was a competitive kickboxer, and she hadn't even been there to hear the news. The Ackerman clan did not push for their children to excel, nor did they try to persuade him of the paths in life he should be taking. It kind of explained why he was so crappy at being in relationships. He couldn't find it in himself to really take this idea of commitment seriously and to adhere to the expectations given. He just couldn't always shower someone with love, he couldn't always act like he cared about everything, and he couldn't always find it in himself to date someone that he'd hooked up with for fun. Levi Ackerman lived a routinely uniform life with zero expectations.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Petra Ral had somehow found her way into his life and made a place for herself there. Not so much in a jarring, forcing him to spend time with her type of way (although that was true too), but more in her ever present, subtle, yet important presence that she had gained in his life. She joined them for coffee when Erwin and Mike went to go grab a cup. Whenever he would spend time with Hanji and they would hang around in her dorm room, they were never perturbed by Petra's quiet, studious presence. And it wasn't unusual for him to see her at parties every now and then. Petra just was. It felt weird, sometimes, having another person in his life who was a girl and whom he'd grown so accustomed to. Seeing her in his daily life no longer confused him.

After that first frat party, he was surprised by how much more of a constant in his life she became. They rarely, if ever, referred back to that night—save maybe when alluding to Hanji's apparent unreliability and penchant for getting blackout drunk. Reasons, they used, when arguing against being dragged back to any with Hanji. But since that night, they had yet to spend a night drunk together again. And for some reason, Levi wanted to keep it that way. Still, when he checked his messages throughout the day, he could usually count on one from Petra. Today, stepping out of one of his history discussion classes, he scrolled through the notifications on his phone—snapchats from girls he barely remembered, spam from Hanji that was probably filled with pictures of petri dishes, Erwin asking to make plans for the next day. The only messages he replied to almost immediately and consistently were Petra's. Even if he tried to avoid them, she'd probably call him, and at that point, he found it harder to ignore her. Somehow, he found her less annoying than Hanji, Erwin, and Mike combined.

Sitting in the library across from her, he found himself suddenly thinking back to that night from a week back, and every so often, after highlighting a passage from his book, he would reward himself with a glance over the top of his page—as if by spacing it out, he could pretend that he wasn't studying her features. She had a splash of freckles that were barely noticeable in the winter time, as if because of the cold weather they were beginning to fade from lack of sunlight. She was cute—she was pretty. He almost flinched when she suddenly looked up, pushing her hair from her face, and he dropped the highlighter from his hand, cursing lightly.

"I can't read any of this anymore," she said, gesturing to her textbook.

He stirred from his comfortable sitting position, stooping down to the ground to grab his pen.

"Tough shit, Petra," he growled, trying to set the scowl deep into the space between his eyebrows. He sat back up, grazing her forehead when he realized that she had leaned across the table to watch what he was doing. He scowled at her, looking angrier than usual, and she couldn't figure out what she had done.

"Jesus, okay, I'll shut up." She pulled open her laptop, seemingly checking her calendar. "I hadn't realized how engrossed you were in your reading, god," she mumbled under her breath. She readjusted the glasses that had been sitting on the bridge of her nose—he rarely ever saw her wearing those. He listened to her speak under her breath as she read out various appointments, and occasionally, he would catch some bits and pieces—stray words, like coffee date, or something like visit, or break. She stared intently at the screen, the light from it glaring into her glasses lenses. He was staring again. Why did this keep happening. He resigned himself to his fate, and bookmarked the page, deciding he'd finish the reading later in the peace of his room—that is, if Erwin didn't ram his door down when he realized Levi had left his texts on read.

"Spend Thanksgiving…" he watched as she formed the words with her lips, spending deliberate time on every syllable, as if she was trying to make sense of what she was reading. She glanced up for the second time tonight, and he flinched again, ever so slightly. "What are you planning for Thanksgiving?" Petra pulled her glasses from her face, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. He replied with an unintelligible grunt.

"Oh right—you're…" she snapped her fingers, as if searching for the words. "Canadian. You're Canadian, right?"

"How considerate of you to remember," Levi replied, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Canadians… do you celebrate Thanksgiving? Or is this just a pointless time off for you—time to just like watch the Macy's Parade, or I don't know—"

"We celebrate Thanksgiving. Just in October, like normal people." He sighed, scrolling

aimlessly down a pit of photos online.

"Okay, well, don't push it, Levi." Petra sighed back in response, exasperated with his insolence. "Before you get back on the offense, I'm just trying to say, I figure you're not doing much this holiday." She paused, and took his silence as compliance. "I was planning on going back to New York, spending the holidays with family, you know—"

"No." He quickly responded, not even bothering to look up.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't need you to know my answer," he replied shortly, working to start packing away at his things. "I'll spend Thanksgiving the way I have all the other past years, thank you."

"What, alone with a bottle of bourbon in your room? Maybe with a Netflix special, or what, Charlie Brown?"

"Funny."

"I'm serious," she pressed, looking up at him earnestly. "I know you're not doing much, and sure you can join all the other wandering souls on campus, but really—be my guest." He looked up at her, finally, from his phone. All he could see were her stupid freckles and the flecks of gold in her eyes. It threw him off for a second.

"Drop it."

"When you agree—"

"—stop it," Levi groaned. She watched as he started packing his bag to head out—maybe to a lecture, grab coffee, avoid her—but she couldn't help but grin as she watched him go. She would convince him, one way or another. Levi kept his head bowed, his hair brushing his forehead as it fell in front of his face, and he was too distracted to get it out of his eyes. So bothersome, he thought to himself. He stood up, popping his earbuds in, ignoring Petra's giggling Goodbye, as he stormed off to go find Erwin and get a coffee.


The worst part about hanging out with Erwin is the amount of responsibility Erwin felt towards making sure Levi's life wasn't in shambles. To be fair, his worries weren't unwarranted. It was a text here, a phone call there—just enough to make sure that Levi hadn't completely fucked himself over. More than usual, at least. One of the requirements that Erwin enforced in their friendship was meeting often enough for coffee. It was a sort of neutral ground where any conversation was fair game—just casual enough for Levi to feel like he wasn't being grilled, but at a time where both were sober enough to properly talk about topics important enough to need talking about. Sometimes, Levi wondered how the two of them even became friends. They led different lives in high school. Erwin, a privileged student who attended top schools on his father's paycheck, captain of the football team—quarterback. Levi, a then very scrawny Canadian kid who was good enough at football—not American football, soccer—to find something consistent to do in the afternoons after class. But somehow, they both got the same acceptance letter, and both decided to come to the same university, where they would end up meeting during new student orientation, nearly passed out, hanging by a kitchen island in a random frat house. Sometimes, Levi wondered, if it weren't for Erwin if he would even have friends. Friendships which didn't expire past a few months.

The two of them sat there, sipping at their drinks. Erwin, pleased by what Levi had said, despite having been disappointed by his breakup—I mean, what was he, his father?—decided to turn his attention back to the same book Levi had been paging through, In the Garden of Beasts, and was set on finishing up the reading before tonight. Levi resigned himself to doing the same, but underneath the table, he scrolled through his phone, bored. He turned his phone off, prepared to continue reading about the American ambassador's daughter's antics, when his phone lit up once again. Petra.

I bought your Amtrak ticket! Plz venmo when you get a chance.

Levi sighed, resigned to his fate, and looking up at Erwin's inquisitive look, decided it would be better just to dismiss whatever thoughts his friend had. "Fuck off, eyebrows."

A couple days later Erwin watched Levi from his bed as the short raven-haired student crossed his room, throwing random shirts and sweaters into the duffle at the foot of the bed. He watched amused as Levi walked, mumbling random words to himself—shirt, no, it'll be cold… another sweater? Jeans?

"Nervous, Levi?" Erwin smirked as he watched Levi's irritation grow. "You're not a very good packer."

"What to you bring," Levi mumbled to himself, "When you're staying at a stranger's house in New York. What gifts do you bring? What clothing do you wear?" Levi continued speaking to himself, cursing low in Quebecois French, a string of expletives Erwin is sure would put any Canadian to shame.


The train ride to New York was an hour and a half long, and since they got a few days off, Petra invited Levi to stay over, because, in her words, Who'd want to have a three train ride just to eat a turkey?

They boarded the Amtrak, Petra insisting that she get the window seat, and Levi rolling his eyes in reply. She was so easy to please, honestly, like a kid. Levi thought to himself.

The minute the train started pulling away, they both pulled out their laptops, trying to make the most of their train ride by finishing papers and presentations due the Monday they get back. Petra had settled herself into her seat, slipping her feet out of her boots and pulling them up onto the chair so she could sit cross-legged. Then she even slipped on a pair of long knit fingerless gloves before she opened up her laptop. Levi swore he'd finished the first paragraph on his paper before she'd even put the heading on hers.

"Ready?" he asked mockingly.

"Yeah!" she replied brightly. "Just because I'm not as stiff as you about sitting on public transportation doesn't mean you should make fun of me." she added, eliciting a snicker from him.

She popped in a pair of earbuds, and he turned his attention back to the paper assigned: Research paper on one successful PT method and its long-term effects. He'd sooner rather lay in a ditch.

He ran his hands through his hair and glanced back down at the annotations he'd made on his outline, the pages sticking out from underneath his computer. He'd mapped it all out, so why wouldn't the words just come?

Sighing, he chose to look around the car instead of trying to burn holes through his paper, and came across Petra's white cable knit boot socks. Usually he hated when people took their shoes off—unless when in someone's house, of course—being the clean freak he was, but somehow it didn't even bother him that Petra had slipped hers off. He'd seen her do it, but he didn't even say anything about it. Was he starting to just become used to germs?! Or maybe it was just because it was Petra. If it was Hanji or Erwin, he'd think the same, right? … Okay, that was a fucking lie. But that was because the two of them were different. Erwin sometimes had downright nasty socks, and Hanji insisted on wearing heels or running shoes most of the time—neither or which would come off. And when she did wear boots, they never came off either in the first place. But Petra was different too?

"God damn…" he muttered under his breath. Since when did he start memorizing everyone's habits? Who was next? Dok?

"Tough paper?" Petra asked, pulling an earbud out.

He grunted in reply, not wishing to indulge on either his paper nor his present thoughts, given that most of them had been focused on her.

She grinned—her smile was infuriatingly brilliant—and ran her hand through her hair, letting out a sigh of her own. "I know exactly how you're feeling. Well, maybe not exactly." she said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess things get a bit harder when you're a scary upperclassman, right?"

"I'm not fucking scary." he replied.

"Please." Petra laughed. "I bet kids would run away from a scowl like that."

"Ha ha." Levi replied, giving her shoulder shove.

Giggling, she glanced back at him. "I was just joking, by the way." she added quickly. "I didn't mean that—"

"I know. You don't have to apologize so much." Levi said, finding himself staring at her, for just a beat too long. He was close enough to touch the tips of his hair.

Clearing his throat, he pulled away, looking back at his glowing screen instead.

Petra was frozen in her place, her cheeks warm. Had she just imagined that moment? Following his lead, she decided to shake it off. She turned back to her computer, popping back in her earbud, and stared intently at the near blank word document she'd been working on.

A half hour later, Petra was staring at about the same spot on her screen. She'd spent thirty minutes typing, then deleting… then retyping… then deleting again. Why couldn't she just finish this?

Resigning herself to the potential of not being able to finish any work—at least not within this next hour or so—she shut her laptop, and slid it back into its sleeve. Glancing over at Levi, she noticed how he was staring intently at his computer, as if deep in thought, and mentally kicked herself at how he could be so productive when she couldn't.

"I'm going to go get something from the snack car." she declared, grabbing her purse. She'd meant for it to be short and quick, so as not to bother his work, when she noticed him staring up at her, and closing his own computer.

"I'll come too then." he said, sliding his computer into his bag.

"Aren't you working?" she asked, puzzled.

"Playing sudoku is hardly work." he scoffed, grabbing his jacket.

Shrugging, she started ahead, finding herself almost distancing herself from him. Was she? She pushed away the thoughts. Unconvinced, she laced her fingers through strands of her hair, and tried clearing her thoughts, focusing instead on her paper…

They left the snack car with Petra carrying a cup of hot chocolate and a bag of Gardetto's, and Levi nursing a cup of black coffee—which made Petra surprised when he said he took it Black, like his soul.

"Your soul is not black." she argued as they walked back down the aisle of sleeping business workers. "It has at least like a sugar cube, or a dash or cream or something. At least."

"If you say so," he replied, reaching into her bag of snacks.

"Also," she said, popping the cheese squiggle into her mouth. "I was really hoping they'd have the bag with only the brown toastie ones. Because they actually sell those—I mean who wants the pretzels? Nobody likes pretzels!"

"I like pretzels."

"I know you do."

"…Wait a fucking second, Ral."

Giggling once again—she giggled a lot, and it wasn't laughter, it was a giggle, like a light, soft, happy thing—she slid into her seat.

"You see, I have this theory that you either never get the piece you want, or that your mortal

enemy always gets the piece you want." she explained.

"I didn't think someone like you had mortal enemies. But I guess you'd be the one to share your bag of Gardetto's with them if you did." he added smirking.

"Besides the point. Okay, wait, watch me." turning towards him dramatically, she reached her hand into the bag, and pulled out a pretzel. "Every. Single. Time."

"Okay, but that doesn't count. You definitely rigged it that time to prove you're right." Levi said, opening his computer back up.

"My research is conducted with the utmost amount of integrity." Petra replied in mock offense. "Try it yourself."

Glancing from his half finished sudoku over to the copper haired girl shaking a bag of the twin of Chex Mix in front of his face, he sighed, and submitted himself to shoving his hand in the bag, pulling out a cracker at random.

"Rye toast!" Petra declared triumphantly.

"But based on your past conjectures, that means that either I hate the toasts—which is fucking false—or that I'm your mortal enemy."

"You and your fancy words," Petra replied. "And anyways, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer." she added, leaning her face towards his for emphasis.

He felt his cheeks grow warm when he realized how close she was to him, how he could just tilt his face up and—

Stop Levi. This is Petra. What are you, so low of a person you'd go and just bang your friend like all those other girls?

But Petra isn't like those other girls. An annoying part in his head replied.

Grunting, he pushed her face away with the heel of his palm, making her squeak in protest, then shoved the damned piece of toast into her mouth.

"Truce." he replied, turning back to his sudoku.

Petra, pleased, nodded and passed him the pretzel, which he ate in one bite. And he could ignore the fact that he just ate food held by another person.


Author's Note

A large part of this chapter is old—I think I'd written it over a year ago (maybe almost two years ago?), while most of the previous chapters here were written last year when they were first published, so in many ways, the writing style might be slightly different. Reading it, everything feels just a bit more immature, aha. It's been a busy year. I love sharing thoughts here in the author's notes, though I understand it can be a bit tedious to read. Either way, I really do just love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and on the story overall—apologies if just in some ways I have not been receptive in the past. In other words, I've matured a lot.

It's been just right about a year since I've updated, but what's been interesting enough is that this story has always been on mind. I have yet to write a full story other than fanfiction in the longest time, and this is the most consistent project that I've held in a long while. I feel motivated to refine it—I'm not quite sure why. In other words, this has so far been a meaningful project to me for some truly, inexplicable reason. I'm sorry not to have updated sooner, and as the fandom's population dwindles, I still find an odd attachment to this story, perhaps because of how young I really was when I first started watching and reading it, that I was so fascinated and marveled by it and the creation of this world and the characters. So, in short, thank you all.

Please leave any thoughts, or requests in your reviews or in private messages (would love to hear) as I've recently started a drabble series (yay), and truly, I have very few ideas for that one.

I'd hate to make any promises, because I don't want to break any of them. Thanks, if you did, for sticking around and reading to the end of this very long author's letter. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter after this very long hiatus.

—Hymuk.

P.S. In the process of re-writing and editing, I have a lot of extra material that will go unpublished—scraps, as you were. I figure why not have more material on the ship? Would you all prefer if I added it throughout this story or to a separate document that I can update alongside?