A/N: hey there. This chapter is more about Levi's dynamics with everyone else, but I promise there is also sappy content.

Levi.

.~the dull Present~

I was sitting on the bed, surrounded by different pages, some typed on my machine, some handwritten and some were a horrible combination of both. It was early evening and I was having a tremendous fight with the empty page in front of me. The papers were still blank, but there was a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and waiting to become visible.

The tea had not helped, the books were not an inspiration and felt dull as dishwater, the song that was playing on the pick-up told me nothing…

The words were blocked, I sexually identified with Sartre's Nausea, there were no answers to my questions, and all in all I was choked by the severe hand of not having anyone to understand me, to organize the mess in my head, to make the buzzing stop.

There were literally four people that managed to do that so far. Let's see:

Two were dead because of the Titans,

One I was forbidden to even think about, because Erwin had decided a long time ago that my relationship with Rhea would somehow endanger the entire Regiment,

And the last one, well, the last one was like methadone to a heroin addict: the nicely-packaged, cute version of not being enough, approved by those around you none then less.

And I would take more and more each time, like a rabid animal, increasing the dosage, using and abusing, in hope it would give me the chills and the high like the real thing did.

In the end, however, the more I tried to forget my old life with her ginger hair, Chanel perfume and naïve way of fucking, the more I realized Petra was the complete opposite of what I was begging the Universe for.

Because that's what all substitutes did. They made you crave the forbidden version more and more.

I am truly worse than my own demons, I thought as I grabbed the phone on the nightstand and dialed the familiar number of my highly-prized methadone. I held the receptor between my cheek and shoulder, while I was scanning over a page from my manuscript about bits of ideas which could be elaborated into something half-decent.

After a few rings, I heard the warm voice of my colleague and confidant.

"Hello, who is this?" Petra said.

"Hey, it's me. How are you?" I asked, but my counterfeit concern did not mean I was less of a selfish bastard, so I did not let her answer and continued "Listen, do you have a spare minute to talk? There is this question that has been bothering me. Apparently it has no realistic or plausible answer, you know, the one that reffers to the imminent arrival of the apocalypse and what would you do and with whom in the time left..."

"Levi, I-" Yes Petra, I knew your answer involved me in one way or the other, but hearing you say it would definitely guilt-trip me to hang myself in the bathroom.

"Shut up for a second, will you? As I was saying, think about the usual response to that question. All the answers I've heard so far are in utter unanimity completely different and not at all integrated or connected to the life we are currently living, which leads me to believe that..."

„Levi, I am currently stuck in the kitchen with three pots on the stove. Can't your teenage tantrums wait a little?How about you ask how I really feel about you, for a change?

Who knows, maybe that will shoo your existential dread away for a while? Execept, oh, I know. You will pretend not to hear me because you just don't like the answer. I have been grading essays all they and trust me, some of them were more interesting than your..."

But I slammed the holder down before Petra got the last word.

Because I could not bear to see how she wanted us to be mature and responssible. I despised confrontations.

Because I loved everything she was not and hated every grab for dignity she was pulling on me. I hated it all, in fact.

I hated how she was right.

I hated how, in those moments, she tasted like withdrawl.

I hated how I was failing to turn her into something she was not. (alias Rhea).

I hated how she reminded me that I was a hollow, wrecked version of my old self.

And I hated that tomorrow, or next week, or maybe the next month, she would let me in her bed again. We would surely begin another round of cat-and mouse. And we would perform that play as old as time and accept that anything was better than the ever-persisting cold side of the bed. That it sure was far more fun to succomb to eachother than to the Titans.

So I went on searching for another subject to write, because, apparently, my dear methadone chose to drown me in misery. Just like I deserved for treating her like a disposable object.

Because after the deeds were done, and the battles fought, I still wanted to write my book . I still wanted to prove I was worth something.

~The following morning~

That day, I had mentally prepared myself for the atrocity I was going to commit. It was no easy task.

When I entered the classroom, they were waiting for me, surely expecting things, with a subtle smile on their faces .A faint excited buzz roamed the air: about what was Mr. Ackerman going to talk about today, about how he defied the System, about how he was not like the other brainwashed teachers that tortured them.

So I dropped a figurative guillotine over their heads without mercy.

"Alright everyone, open your textbooks on the fifth page. " I said to my pupils in a calm, neutral tone.

A deafening silence followed suit. I was sitting by the blackboard and scanned everyone. They were so perplexed, as if I just told them the Earth was flat. They knew for a fact that their dear Socrates despised the dumb curriculum, he never taught his students using the textbook, he spoke freely, and he did not feed the nightmare that was the titanical education. Me following the compulsory subjects was, for them, a hard-to-swallow oxymoron.

And now, out of the blue, I was doing just what the dear Party expected me to do. How dare I be like the others? How dare I?

"But we were supposed to talk about a person's character today!" A bald and short kid rose to his feet, clearly resentful towards me.

"Sit down, Springer!" I said strictly to him. He had a hard time following my instructions.

Suddenly, I was no longer the cool Mr. Ackermann who talked about the meaning of life. I was a disappointment in their eyes. Just like the rest of the bland teachers.

They regarded me with utter pure hatred, and it surely worked in making me feel bad. But I had made a deal with Erwin a long time ago. And I was a man of my word, no less.

I had been a teacher for about 4 months when I received my first complaint. So naturally, I had been summoned to the principal's office after the classes ended, like a bad kid who misbehaved. Of course, it was as humiliating as it was ridiculous. I was supposed to be an undercover agent of the Survey Corps, not entertain our commander's charade.

I sat down on the opposite side of his desk, while Erwin Smith, the principal and the head of the Survey Corps, ruled over his office from his big luxurious leather chair.

"It has been brought to my knowledge certain parents are…appalled by your lessons and methods of teaching. A report has been filed against you." He said to me in a reprimanding tone and handed me a file to read. I did not even glance at that piece of paper.

"I would not expect otherwise. Let me guess, are some big Titan mommy and daddy mad about the fact that their child does not want to be an engineer anymore?" I spat back at him with a displeased look on my face.

"As a matter of fact, yes they are, Levi. But you have to understand the whole ordeal is far more delicate than that. Some students belong to really influential families. You are not ruining your own reputation, you are also downgrading the entire high school."

"Downgrading it in the eyes of whom? The Party? The government? We both know I am perfectly capable of doing my job both as the homeroom teacher and the philosophy one. " I frowned and shifted in my seat, clearly annoyed with the current situation.

" But unlike you, I do not enjoy sugarcoating the reality of our world and kissing the Titans in the ass. Did the Party manage to wash the last bit of your dignity?" I continued and leaned against the backrest of the chair.

"You are insolent! You think I like it? Sitting at those horrible meetings, eating at the same table with them, talking about politics…I hate it, Levi. I really do. But I do it for the Regiment. For the Scouts. So that they give funds and taxes to this school and we have at least a dim chance to fight them. I do this for you, for Hanji, for Mike. For humanity."

"Wow…" I paused. "Consider me impressed, Erwin. You really are a whore for money."

He gave me an exasperated sigh but calmed down none than less. He resumed his annoyingly straight and proper position and it drove me mad how easily he could dissimulate everything. Did that man ever have a breakdown from all the lies he was putting up with?

"Is it really that horrible for your self-proclaimed 'great thinker' status to do some proper teaching instead of endless ramblings about Camus and his gang?"

"Tsch, you wouldn't get it, math teacher."

"It is also forbidden by law to indulge in that kind of the relationship that you have with your students, you know?." And I rose an indignant eyebrow at his words.

"I'm not having intercourse with them, Erwin."

"Yes, you are doing far worse. You make them love you and you make them dream big. I won't be surprised if one day I see your statue in the schoolyard. " He said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes so far in the back of my head I was afraid I would get stuck like this. I had to get out of there.

"How about a deal then. I teach three out of four classes my way, and during the fourth I swear to open the textbook, cross my heart"

" Fifty fifty." He bargained.

"Eat me. Take my offer or leave it. We are talking about knowledge, not potatoes at the market."

"You are such a blackmailer, Socrates. You know I can't do that. The kids would be devastated if you left" Erwin said with an out-of-place tone.

"It's settled then. Consider it an eye for an eye for that stunt you pulled by banning me to enter that place and see her."

And for once, Erwin did, in fact, shut up. I could see in his eyes that he was looking for smart things to say, for clever answers. As if everything, life itself really, was nothing more than a logical problem to him, waiting to be solved by his great intellect.

"Levi, you have to understand, I had to.." He started, but I had no patience for him. I got up and walked to the door, preparing to leave his office. He was a great leader but….a terrible man, really.

"Keep your sorry excuses for yourself, Erwin. I don't want to hear it" I said bitterly, but before I made my way out, he stopped me:

"How do your students look at you with utter admiration and listen to everything you say? You are not the most charming person to deal with you know…"

"It's called being genuine. Maybe you'll learn it one day." I replied and got away from him.

And that, my dear readers, is how I found myself in the place of the executioner that day in my classroom. The books were opened and you could cut the tension with a knife. I counted so far four pair of frowns, three mouths turned downwards and six grunts. Man, this was going to be interesting.

"Mr. Jaeger, since you and Miss Ackerman are so eager to show your excitement for this class, you might as well start to read the introduction." If I were not wearing the mask of a stoic, calm and bitter man, I would be laughing at the scene those kids were pulling. Eren was sitting backwards on his chair, facing the back of the class and his colleagues, instead of me. And of course, Mikasa followed suit, because she probably hated the system too and also loved the idea of her and Eren against the rest of the world. How cute, I was guilty of liking it.

"No, sir" Came out his venomous answer. It was funny how easily kids turned their back on you.

"How about Arlert then? Start reading boy. The paragraph about understanding the basics of philosophy, please. " I gestured towards the skinny blonde kid, who, for one reason or another, was too scared to take part in his friends' shenanigans.

"Alright sir, here we go." The blonde kid put some horrendous glasses on and started to read. His friends made such an ugly sound, they almost spit on him. Jeez, they were angry. And not at Armin particularly, and not even at me. They were mad at themselves. I felt their terrible displeasure directed at each of them. They were mad about the fact that they dared. They dared to trust me, to believe I could have been their ally in this seemingly losing fight. They confided in me, and I stepped on their ill-suited opinions like when you did on a cockroach.

And don't get me wrong, I was on their side. I understood their anger at me.

In fact, I knew it better than anyone. Every morning when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw what they were seeing then: a short bastard with a Napoleon complex, whom life put in his designated yoke. A grumpy man who believed he was making a difference by staying and enduring, when in reality, he was the biggest coward of them all.

Lay down children, I wanted to scream at them, because at the game of Who Hates Mr. Ackermann the Most, I have won a long time ago.

" A brief introduction in philosophy, by Doctor Darius Zackley, PhD. To fully understand philosophy we must first be familiar with its siblings, that are logic, psychology and sociology. All of these notions have been covered prior in the first volume and should already be familiar to a diligent junior student. With that in mind, the titanist philosophy completes the general knowledge of any dutiful worker of the state. "

As if…I thought. The general knowledge of the average citizen was how not to starve until tomorrow. And the concepts I was supposed to teach were so bland and boring, even the bread I bought at the general store next to me was tastier. And that was saying something…I couldn't help but puff at those pompous words. I was not the only one though, everyone expressed their disproval at Armin's words.

"Over time, philosophers have come up with different concepts about the meaning of existence and the human nature. To understand the value of those concepts, we have to ask ourselves two questions each time we read a new paragraph.

First, how much the concept is both elaborately and clearly explained to the reader, and second, what is the importance of said concept in the context of our society. Question one rates the concept's perfection, while question two rates its objective, and once those have been answered, determining the philosopher's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter. If the perfection is scored on the horizontal line of a graph, while the objective is scored on the vertical one, then the area determined is similar to the concept's value.

For example, Hegel's Sein und Zeit might score high on the vertical, but low on the horizontal. Marx's Das Kapital on the other hand would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, there by revealing that work to be truly great. Practice those measurements as you cover the material presented further." Armin finished and took off his round-shaped glasses. I had my back turned towards my students, because during Arlert's reading, I couldn't help the urge to roll my eyes about a dozen times and didn't want the others to see it.

That certainly did not mean however I was not aware of that girl with a ponytail trying to eat in my class. So messy…

So this was the stuff I was supposed to teach the kids. That was definitely not an introduction in philosophy, that was a big pile of…

"pretentious bullshit." I exhaled and turned around from the board to face the others.

Boy, I wished I had a camera to capture the look on their faces. I put my hands in my pockets and strolled through the rows and benches. They were so confused and flabbergasted about what was happening, they didn't know what to think: was I the bad guy or the hero on their side?

I wish I knew, at least…

"That's what I think Dr. Zackley's introduction is. We are not laying pipe, we are talking about philosophy here." And even Eren and Mikasa halted their stunt to look at me. I saw everybody with wide eyes and open mouths, and one of the students crossed out a graphic he made on his notebook.

"I mean, how can you describe philosophy like Paradis' weekly Top 40? I like Hegel, he gives me the chills, but I can't dance to it. " I mimicked in a high and ironic tone the average citizen Darius Zackley must have imagined for his textbook. The whole class started to chuckled and Armin smiled warmly at his colleagues. Even that girl in the back of the class had stopped eating.

"This writing is degrading to anything remotely interesting on philosophy. It's a disgrace, can't you see?. Plato must be rolling right now in his grave. "

"Tell you what, kids, rip out that page. Come on, rip it out." But they all looked at me like I have gone mad. Not even Eren was moving. I knew they had been taught the silly ideology that the State's propriety was almost holy. But doing the same things all over again and expecting different results, that was even sillier.

"Come on, it's not the bible, you are not going to hell for this. Rip it out! I thought my students enjoy disobeying the rules, and guess what" I turned then to that boy, Jean Kirstein " I won't even tell on you to the principal"

I had not even finish the sentence, when a ripping sound seized the whole room. And to my surprise and frankly everyone else's , it was not Eren or Mikasa who did it first. Instead, a tall girl with brown hair and freckles, the most quiet in her class really, held the remains of the paper in her hands.

"What's your name girl?" I asked with curiosity.

"Ymir, sir." She responded. And the others followed her suit, they ripped out that horrible introduction with joy and delight. They almost wanted to embrace me for not betraying them, I could see it in their eyes. I had allowed them yet another hour of freedom.

"Keep ripping, children. This is your battle, your war. If you are not careful, the casualties could be your own hearts and souls" I encouraged them as more and more students were damaging textbooks.

"Now in my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savor words and language. No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."

As I was walking through them though, the sounds of destruction echoing all around me, I spotted something interesting.

"What is that you are writing, Mr. Reiner Braun?" I went closer to the tall, bulky blonde and looked over his shoulder. "Ah, I see, you are doing math exercises. Wanna be an engineer?"

"Yes sir" He muttered in embarrassment, as everyone else paused what they were doing and fixed their eyes on him.

"Were you paying attention to what we were doing?" I asked and waited but Mr. Braun decided to let his silence speak for itself.

"I see that look in Mr. Braun's eyes, like Hegel and Marx's ideas have nothing to do with going to business or engineering school. Right? Maybe."

I then looked at his desk mate, who seemed to share Reiner's distaste for my class "Mr. Hoover, you might agree with him, thinking 'Yes, we should simply study Zackley's logic and sociology and go on quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions.' Well, everyone, I have a great secret to tell you " I paused.

"Come closer, huddle up!" I urged them and in less than ten seconds, every student was gathered up, some of the kneeling in front of me, some of them leaning their necks, and some were breathing on the back of my neck, witch bothered me endlessly, but I knew better than to ruin the moment.

"We don't read and write music, poetry, novels, philosophy, because we have nothing else to do. We do so because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion.

Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

To quote a great poet 'What good amide these of me, of life? ' The answer is: that you are here. That life exists, and identity follows. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."

I looked at everyone, fixing their gaze, one at a time, and I had that rush once more. Like the clocks had stopped working for a second.

"What will your verse be?"

And just like that, the bell rang its loud annoying ring and the magic vanished into thin air.

" Students, how about you apply what you have learned today ?To prove the beauty of art, everyone has to write a short poem about love for the next class. How does that sound?"

"Sir, but maybe not everyone is in the mood for lovey-dovey cheesy romance! Well, except for Historia, that is" Connie said and the boys around him laughed while Historia clenched her fists and swore murder to him.

"Mr. Springer, your superficiality never ceases to amaze me. Think outside of the box! Write about your love for summer, how you love your mother or how you love to be a pain in the ass for me." I said with a hint of joke and irony in my voice, and I hoped he got it.

"With all due respect sir," Interrupted the daughter of the Titan-police officer. "This is not literature class, we have homework for that too…"

"You have a point, miss Leonhard. Who is your literature teacher?"
"Ms. Petra Ral, sir" Ah, what a delightful coincidence…

"Perfect. I will talk then to Ms. Ral and if you do good with your poem, you will get a high mark both in Philosophy and Literature class. Does that satisfy all of you?"

The others cheered in delight, especially Jean, who thought he could shoot two birds with one stone.

"Alright then, that concludes today's lesson. You are free to go" I left my place at the back of the class, and went towards the teacher's desk.

"Oh, Mr. Socrates, We thought we had lost you to the Titans." Eren exclaimed. I allowed myself a moment of sympathy, put a hand on his head and pat it once or twice.

"Brats" I sighed , "you think so lowly on me, really" and then I went to grab my suitcase and the reports from the desk. I left the classroom in a fast pace, heading to the teacher's office.

And that was how today's episode of 'What to steal from banned Western culture' unfolded.

Yes, yes, I knew I replicated that scene from Dead Poets Society to a T, but please don't judge me so quickly, we all had our guilty pleasures around there. Hanji had cross-dressing, Erwin had a grandeur complex, and well..

I wanted to feel validated by the ones who would shape the future. I craved their approval, because of some weird desire to feel young again. Because I wanted to steal their gusto for life, because I wanted my fight with the regime to be violent, like theirs were, not subtle, like mine.

Even in my late twenties, I still hoped to be different. I still refused to give up and fill a number on a record.

I still wanted feverously to belong.

And so, I had become worse than a bad writer or a copycat painter.

I became nothing more than a fraud.

A demagogue. A rabble-rouser.

I entered that distressing room that was the teacher's office, not even wanting to take a peak around me. I put the reports into their designated place and went on to prepare myself some tea. I put some water to boil and grabbed a mug. The available flavors were mediocre at best, but so was everything really…

You took what you get, really, and not only in this high school, but this whole country was suffering from a terrible disease: obedience. I hated it. I hated it almost as much as I hated the curricula I was supposed to teach.

I hated the fake pleasantries I had to exchange with some of my colleagues.

I hated the infinite list of shortages: no instruments, no money for school trips, no funds to send children on exchange programs.

I hated the rigor and the blindness of the people around me. What could I possibly share with those ignorants about shaping the minds of the future generations? In the small time I spent in that purgatory, I kept witnessing only small talks, gossips about affairs, weird sex tips and all kinds of diets that made me want to vomit.

I had watched from afar, for the past four years I had been a teacher, a peculiar string of suspicious trends unfold in front of me: the Korean diet, washing your hair with eggs and vinegar instead of shampoo, the horrifying grapefruit technique which was the reason humans deserved a new plague, and lately, a weird hack to trick your metabolism using algae.

It was truly fascinating sometimes, like I was an explorer of a virgin land and found a new species of ape with every day I spent on that god-forsaken place. I guessed that was what you got when the majority of the teachers were appointed by the Party, using all kinds of relations or intercessions. The corruption was blooming even faster than that mold in the upper corner of the room.

Of course, they were not all that bad. Hanji was a good company, and one I could make fun of the cattle that were the others. Of course, she had a bad habit of laughing way too loud, but I pretended that she was laughing in my behalf too.

I added a spoon of sugar in my tea and gently stirred it counter-clockwise. Hanji was sitting at the main table with Petra, talking about some of the students. The ginger woman was glancing at me from time to time, giving me an uneasy and worried look. Poor girl. I grabbed my mug from the lid and sat down next to them.

"How are you doing girls?" I asked in a monotonous tone and took a sip from my tea.

"Oh we were just talking about…" Petra started, but was rudely interrupted by the banging of the door.

Of course, things here had a habit to annoy me, I could never afford peace for long . Just when I was thinking to enjoy the short break I had, in stormed the most annoying, terrible, good-for-nothing, Titan ass-licking-and-enjoying-it person from the whole school.

"Mr. Ackermann, I have told you before on countless occasions, you confuse philosophy with the aspects of real life." He said loudly, to grab my attention, in that loud, yodel-like voice of his. No hellos, no formalities, no politeness whatsoever.

The other math teacher. Aka Zeke Jaeger. And my nightmares seemed to come alive each time he opened his filthy mouth.

He stopped by my side but did not sit down, he merely slammed the reports on the table. In a terrible routine, he took off his glasses to wipe his forehead from sweat, and took a sip from a water bottle he always carried around.

Bleah, really. I get why the students hated him so much. He was asking for it, let's face it, with his dumb face, endless punishments, useless formulas he taught, and overall horrible attitude, you could genuinely harbor no other feeling for Mr. Zeke other than utter spleen.

I thought there was nothing wrong with being exigent or harsh, but when the average on his classes was around 4,5 out of ten, rigor was out of the question. He was, to put it plainly, very strict at being incompetent.

And there was nothing I could do but bite my tongue and swallow like a slut, since he was appointed at this school by the order of some high-positioned Titans.

"We can't afford leisure with those children. I was walking down the halls and all the students were talking about how cool Socrates is."

I rolled my eyes as hard as I could, until only the whites of my eyes were visible, while Petra bit her tongue to hold back her laugh. I was the only one who had the guts to defy Zeke, and the whole Scouts cherished me for it.

I turned slightly towards the girls and rested my forehead against my hand, so I could hide my face of distaste from him. I have always been such a bad actor, I still asked myself how I had not blown the cover of the regiment so far.

"What is with this new trend of befriending the students?! Do you seriously place your popularity above their education?" He almost yelled, his index pointing upwards, scolding me like a cliché parent. I sighed deeply and looked down, waiting for him to finish his rant. Hanji was already covering her lips with her hand. I mouthed her a desperate 'Save me', but to no avail.

"We have to bring the hammer down! Otherwise they will be reckless and …" and that was the moment where I shut down my ears and stopped listening. Rhea told me once I don't deserve the punishment of hearing what every blabbermouth had to say. It was important to preserve my energy for things that were worth it.

"I don't know what you have studied about pedagogics, Miss Ral, but here, the students must have an innate respect for the rules and the system." I could almost hear his grand gestures while he poured his frustrations on poor Petra.

'Don't worry Zeke' I thought. 'We all know your big booming voice and attitude are clearly compensating for something…little.'

"Well, I have a different mentality. I believe that if the students respect their teachers, they will behave too." The ginger said with a small smirk at pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. My gaze softened on her.

For the next few minutes, I wore a look on my face which definitely asked "Is this asshole done yet?", until the asshole, was, in fact, done. He grabbed a big, sturdy math book and went to his class, throwing looks of detestation to innocent bystanders. Everyone sighed, relieved, and life went on its mundane way.

By the time I had arrived home, it was already late afternoon. I entered the block of flats and got into the old and nasty elevator. It was a small, crammed space, with a broken, dirty mirror and no matter how many times the cleaning lady scrubbed everything, there was always someone that left behind a pungent smell of urine and vodka. Ugh…

I tried to touch as little as possible and pressed a gloved finger to the button of the 7th floor. My whole existence reeked of misery and I sighed for the 37th time that day.

The entire thing moved with a deep, guttural screech, and it reminded me of an ancient beast waking up from its slumber. Even the elevator acted like it was a luxury instead of a necessity. I sighed again, annoyed. 38 times so far. Was the Universe tempting me to break a record? If so, it was working…

On the way up, the old cables holding everything in place were rubbing unnaturally against the engine and the pulleys. One day, this excuse of a mechanism was going to crash and someone would plunge to their death. Hopefully me.

The dull white walls greeted me with the same sturdy, impersonal and sterile energy. I hanged my coat and put my gloves and scarf in place with precise, calculated movements

When I was in my late teens, I never imagined I would become so obsessed with cleaning. I had spent a great portion of my life living in and being an utter mess.

I leaned against the counter and took in the whole spotless scenery. I must have been the literal dream of every unmarried young lady, and being a neat freak certainly had its advantages. I list them bellow as follows:

I didn't lose things anymore

It made not think about Rhea all the time.

Because, believe me, I wanted so bad to leave dirty dishes in the sink and not wipe the dust every three days, but it would remind me too much of our cozy home by the sea.

I wanted so bad to leave the alcohol bottles out and the ashtray full, but it would remind me too much of our rampant parties.

I wanted to bad to leave my clothes on the floor, but it would remind me too much of those wonderful times we fooled around.

I was not even genuinely concerned about the whole hygiene and order thing. It was just another distraction, another shield, like my grey suits were, like my boring car was, that kept Rhea's memory from eating me alive. I wanted to think that by associating with everything she was not ( the boring, the predictable, the order) I would kick her out of my heart little by little.

Hm. As if…

I approached the fridge, I took out some rakija I had and put some water to boil. A tea would calm me down for sure, especially if I brew it according to my secret recipe: that was, tea-flavored alcohol instead of alcohol-flavored tea. Hopefully, you caught the subtle difference.

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and while I left the tea leaves in the boiling water, I stole two, three, okay maybe four gulps of alcohol, and I enjoyed the way it burned my throat. And I would have stolen more, if it were not for that annoying ring of the telephone.

I set the bottle down with a grunt and went to answer that damned thing. Hopefully, it was either Petra apologizing or Erwin complaining, I was not in the mood for anything else.

"Hello, it's Levi. Who's this?" And guess what greeted me. That's right.

Silence. Pure utter silence. I waited and waited and there was nothing but the void.

"Who's there?" Nothing.

"Erwin, is that you? What's with this attitude?" still nothing.

"Are you kids pulling a stupid prank? 'Cause if that's the case, I warn you…" Nothing. If it truly were those stupid kids I taught at the school, they wouldn't be able to hold back laughter or at least a snicker. So I ran out of options, and I did not want to believe, I did not want to be hopeful but…

"Rhea? Is that you?" And my voice was so weak and on the verge of cracking.

But there it was. One word and at the other end, someone released a very, very subtle and feminine gasp. My eyes widened. My world shattered and my legs turned to jelly.

And then nothing. The other person hanged up and I was left with the dull beeping of an ended call.

I could not believe it. I did not want to even think about what happened. Still…

I rushed to my desk as quickly as my legs could carry me. I plopped down on the chair and my fingers ran across the keys of my typewriter so fast, the words that came out on the paper had missing letters. There was the spark I had desired all along.

~there, a long time ago~

"Rhea" I whispered into the pitch black room. The silence weighted a ton. "Do you remember our first sunrise together?" and the stunning creature I was holding in my arms shifted slightly. I registered a high-pitched yawn followed by a deep exhale.

"Yes baby, what of it?" she answered and brought her body closer to mine. We were tired, we were sweaty, we were intoxicated and we were lying down on the small bed in silence, but with no chance of truly resting anyway. Sleeping at night was definitely out of the question there, and all the music, the yelling and the celebrations that never ceased until the early hours of the morning were to blame.

So we settled for a warm embrace instead: She was lying flat on her stomach, while my head was resting against the small of her back, with my arms wrapped around her middle.

"Did you fall for me that night?" I wondered.

"What? No…Levi, this is not a 19th century cheesy romance." She laughed and I felt the vibrations travelling all the way across to my cheek.

"I am pondering the idea of writing a chapter from your perspective…for my novel, you know?" And I pressed a soft kiss, right where her floral shirt rose to leave her skin bare.

"And you decided on an interview right before I fell asleep, you ass. You're a handful, sweetie."

"Yet you love me anyway." I said while her breaths, deeper and deeper, offered me an astounding amount of tranquility.

"Silly boy" She muttered and turned around, wrapping her arms around my neck, draping a leg over my middle, resting her face against the top of my head and shoving my face in her sickly floral-scented chest. Caging me effectively, like every woman knew how to cage any man in her talons.

"Of course I love you anyway. Always have, always will, baby. You ask me about falling in love like I am some dumb schoolgirl, when in reality, I feel like I have always loved you. Before I even knew what love was. Before I was born, even. If you were not to exist, I would have still looked for you in every man and woman on Earth and felt that every second of my life lacked something" and people wondered why I adored her with every fiber of my being…

"You talk about falling." She went on.

" Levi, there was no falling. I have continuously been in love with you since the beginning of time." I was drowning in her embrace and her words. If I were to die right then and there, I would not have minded.

"The truth is," she continued, "every time I look into your eyes, watch you dance to my songs or complete your sentences, I know. I know that...

We were made, out of ashes, for each other..."

"Wow" was all I managed to say. Well, life would have been too damn easy if my girlfriend was only good at singing. She also had to be beautiful, intricate, smart, perceptive, creative, mysterious, good with words, irresponsible; she was so much more than the pretty voice that always sang like a siren, so much more than I asked for. Yet people kept on disregarding it, like a commoner would refuse to accept the existence of a fourth dimension.

"How was that? Did you like it? Good enough for your book?" But I had no strength left to answer that brat as her heartbeats lulled me to a gentle, well deserved sleep.

~the dull Present~

"And then, suddenly, in that empty, real bedroom, with its big boring table covered in a red tablecloth, with its washed-out furniture, with its pristine sheets, I was frozen in a fear I had not felt not even in my deepest nightmares.

And I was terrified neither of death…

Nor of eternal suffering,

Nor of the imminent apocalypse.

I was terrified of the harsh realization.

That I simply would not get all of this mess.

That my life was not long enough and my mind not sharp enough to understand the meaning of my perpetual struggling.

That all the clues had been laid out in front of me and I still was not able to read them.

That I, too, would waste away and rot for nothing, buried 6 feet under, along with my utter stupidity and blindness.

While the abundant, intricate, overwhelming riddle that was life itself would go on, would flow its course,

Clear as a river,

Natural like a first breath,

Simple just as love,

And would spill into nothingness, virgin and unsolved." I typed at the machine.

Oh Rhea, I wish so badly I could see your eyes right now and thank you for simply existing.

A/N: wow, our guy was definitely head over heels in love!

There it is! Another chapter! Hopefully, I will not have to rewrite it. More goodness is to come for our lovely couple, don't worry, I always serve angst with a side of cheesy love.

As always, please, please leave a review if you enjoy.

Besitos!