A/N: did somebody say bonus Levi chapter? No? No one? Okay…but anyway, does anybody read the author notes? I mean, most of the time I skip them but whatevs. Enjoy part 2 of On The Heights of Despair. I thought about writing the Eren chapter then posting this one, but frankly, in my humble opinion, this way the events run more smoothly and the content from the previous chapter is fresher in your minds.

Read and review! It gives me strength!

What's your deal, girl?

But just as the silence was becoming unbearable, she was called.

'Devil, if you wanna grab a bite, come down from your pedestal and join the mortals" Doth Pixis yelled and gestured at the big table, already prepared for feasting. She got up in an instant and sat straight, the accordion on her back protesting at the sudden movement with a cacophonic sound. I got up too, albeit more slowly, with a grunt, and stuffed my freezing hands into my pockets. The fire was no longer doing a good job at warming us up, so I put out the flames with a few kicks in the sand.

"Seems like our time's up, Miss. Come on, I'll take you to the others" I said, apparently disinterested, and looked down at her to grab her attention. This girl kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and…

Wait.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Wait a second. Wait a fucking second.

Did you catch that?

'Looked down at her'

Down. Down as in below my level. Down as in shorter than me. Down as in the top of her head was only up to my nose.

Holy shit. The second realization of that night did not hit on me easily.

I, Levi Ackerman, a short 5'3 bastard, who had been frustrated his entire life because of his height, was looking down at someone for once. The most enticing, mesmerizing, gorgeous girl must've been 4 inches shorter than me, and, for the rest of the world, that means 10 cm. Wow.

We were walking side by side, at a respectable distance, our steps deliberately slow. I tried to sneak few glances when I thought she wasn't looking, and from time to time, I could feel her doing the same. The way back was quiet, and I didn't like it. I always had something smart to say at hand, a quote, an idea or a sadistic joke. Getting close to people sounded wrong in my ears, but playing with them for a while, had a different ring to it. I had always enjoyed witnessing the highs and lows of brief companions, how they would admire me one second and detest me in the next, their obvious emotions more entertaining than any piece of literature available. Back in the day, I toyed unmercifully, like a cat did to a dying sparrow, with everything cursed enough to fall into my hands.

And I didn't even want it. But because all my life I've been tossed aside when I could serve no purpose, I've turned into the violent dog which had only known the licking of the whip.

I wondered why she didn't speak anymore. Where was her earlier enthusiasm and bravery? From time to time, her mouth opened and closed, but the words died in her throat. We were silent and cheerless as if we were taking part of a funeral procession.

I pulled out the cigarette pack from my inner pocket and took one out with my mouth. Then, I offered the pack to her, and she grabbed one long white stick with confidence. She whispered a subtle 'thank you' with a grace I did not think she was capable of. My fingers flicked the metal wheel of my lighter and held the flame towards her, in an offering manner. Rhea' s pretty orbs glistened in the moonlight as she tilted her head the slightest so she could lit up her cigarette.

Don't look at me like that. Even assholes can be gentlemen.

By the time we arrived to the other men, we had left behind a trail of smoke, leading to our first encounter. Poetic cinema, I tell you.

"Seems like we part here." I said to her, looking down at my steel-toed boots. The Garrisons were eyeing me up and down, already seated on their spots. They looked like judgmental owls, exchanging looks and already-formulated opinions through unsubtle whispers. The old man heard me, though.

"What? Are you kidding? Join us. We haven't had a guest in a while." Doth Pixis said and gestured to the empty spot at the head of the table. "Take a seat, I insist."

"No, really, I wouldn't like to bother you." I excused myself half-heartily. The truth was, I wouldn't like to bother myself talking to a bunch of dumb, unmannered pigs.

"Come on, we have shakshuka and some locally distilled rakija." He pressed on further. Rhea threw me a meaningful look at me and smiled warmly. I lied to myself that the food convinced me to stay.

"Alright, you got me here." I breathed out in defeat, and let my lips rise in a very subtle smirk.

To my surprise, the others cheered in delight and some even clapped their hands. I was taken aback by their hospitality, but nevertheless sat down on my designated place. Rhea installed herself at the other end, in the big, fluffy armchair of course, and our own eyes locked a few moments.

The table was full with all kinds of delicacies. It looked like a small feast, with home-made bread, sweet pastries, cooked vegetables, all kinds of cheese, boiled eggs, and there was even a decent amount of meat. I did not ask what the occasion was, because I was slightly certain those people did not need a solid reason to celebrate.

"Let's dig in then, Bon Appetite, everyone!" One of the men said and grabbed some garlic sticks from the bread basket. All of us followed through, putting food in our plates, as the atmosphere was rustic, rural even, but welcoming. Some useless small talk about the weather or fishes went on with the sounds of chewing, cutting and gulfing down food.

"Mister Philosopher…" The guy to my right said.

"His name's Levi" Rhea raised her voice from the other side of the table, as she finally put out her cigarette in an ashtray.

"Levi, what do you say about some strong alcohol to open up your appetite? " The man next to me waved a transparent, unlabeled bottle.

"Nothing but a 'thank you' " Not like I needed it, the food looked so delicious, my stomach was growling at the sight.

He filled two shot glasses with clear liquid and handed one to me. It smelled really really strong, a slight sniff enough to unclog my sinuses for the next decade.

"To our health!" I said and raised the glass.

"Bottoms up!" He replied and we both downed our glasses. Dear god, that drink was something, my taste buds were traumatized . I was certain that rakija had disinfected my whole upper digestive tract.

"I see you're not exactly faring badly" I mentioned and pointed out the rich table setting.

" For now, for now there's still something left" A man with deep sunken eyes and unkempt auburn beard grunted with worry as he poured wine to Rhea, like the true goddess she was.

" Trust me boy, the Paradis citizens are bitches in their truest form: they moan all the time they don't have this, they don't have that, but at the end of the day they always manage." Dot said, while the others laughed loudly to his words, with their mouths full.

"My father had a saying, may god rest his soul" He continued and spilled on purpose droplets of alcohol on the ground, as the tradition went, 'so that the dead could have a taste too'. "In the end, everything works out!" and the whole table erupted in a Homeric, grotesque cheer. Why were they laughing at? I questioned myself. Nothing seemed funny to me, the whole picture was rather pitiful. Or

"As long as there are guides, this place will survive. The question is…what will become of it when there are so few of us left? " The perpetually disturbed man, who now had a drunk blush on his cheeks, said. Dot laughed and leaned towards me.

"Look! Look how Kitz ruins a perfect atmosphere with politics?" And he pointed at the brawler in front of him.

"Eh, with all respect commander, that's not yet politics. Listen to me. Our numbers have been relatively stable over the past years, but that also means we have no fresh meat. Who will take our place when we'll be sick and old? The Garrisons need recruits. I propose for the next season we force some of the summer tourists to volunteer in our ranks. "

"Oh God, will you shut it? You ruin the mood." Dot suggested, but the brown haired man would have none of it.

"Why you tell me to shut up? We're the most vital part of this country!" On the other side, Rhea rolled her eyes, amused by his confidence, while the rest were making various sounds of annoyance at his antics. "We defend the culture itself, we're the protectors of art and the backbone of this whole mess! Who brings in the imported goods? Who strikes deals with the western ships? The Scouting Regiment? NO! We do! We sell to the general public 50% of the banned discs and books every year. We deserve statues at the borders for risking our life and health every fucking day! Screw you, you're all stupid, I feel like I'm talking to retards" And he slammed his fist on the table, so hard that some food jumped from my plate. Tsch, there went the unnecessary violence. The former commander sighed.

"Go to hell, you fucking prick, sit the fuck down or my fists will convince you." The old drunk said. "So, our squad leader affirms we don't have members. He's wrong. We. have. members. I mean, we have just the right amount! What we would do with them if there were more? They would just laze around all day in a pub, remodeling the world or something. Nothing but excessive workforce, and we don't have the funds to sustain it!"

"Let me speak! Let-me-speak" Kitz said aggressively, as he got free from the grip of his colleagues trying to hold him down. "They should just volunteer, no payment needed! It's a pleasure and an honor to be part of the Garrisons!"

"This thing with the pleasure and honor, it's the first time I hear it!" The commander laughed.

"Ehe, then you can go fuck your mother! HeHeHe" The subordinate swore in a weird, friendship-like manner. It somehow symbolized a mutual agreement, because the others cheered at the invisible white flag. The men smiled at each other went on with their eating and drinking, finally in silence.

"And you know who's guilty for all of this? The goddamn titans!"

"Yeah, Some pigs they are!"

"They starve the people and make everything rationalized :water, electricity, gas so that the State saves away large sums of cash. It's so stupid, they want to rule the world by loaning money to every country with big interest rates. In the end, they'll just eat a large amount of shit, 'cause no one will pay the debts. And when the world will show our leaders a big "Fuck you!" and a middle finger, this country will be left with its unsecured ass out!"

He got a point, this old man, I had to give him that. I sipped from their delicious red wine and I got why most of the members were alcoholics. This imported shit was fucking tasty.

"I ain't got much left to live, but remember this words, boys," Then he did a dramatic pause.

"The Titan is the most stupid person on this Planet!" And the table burst out in a fit of clapping. Even I and Rhea joined the crowd, most likely because we loved a good circus show.

"That's right!"

"cheers cheers! To our former commander! May your liver live long!" And most of them clinked their glasses, spilling booze everywhere.

"Mister Philosopher? Is it the first time you're here?" One of the blonde younger studs asked me.

"Uh-oh. You're being interrogated. Be careful what you say, might be used against you!" Rhea warned me, finishing her meal. She took of her accordion and placed it at the foot of the table, then sat across the armchair, her head resting on one armrest and her feet dangling over the other, lounging in it like a spoiled cat. The girl asked for a cigarette, and several men near her offered. I wiped down my mouth with a napkin, before answering the guy:

"It's actually the second time."

"That's what dem girls say all the time, amiright?! Uh, Hans, it's the second time I swear, I have done it only once before I met you, Hans you're the second man in my life, blahblahblah" Everyone laughed, but I threw him the most harsh glare I could muster. What the hell was I doing in here, surrounded by uneducated, drunk pigs?

Right in front of me, Rhea crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, to show me just what she thought about those losers. Oh, there was the reason.

"Okay, okay, sorry." The man who addressed himself as Hans continued "Maybe you could give your personal thoughts about our situation, since you've been a guest to this place and you're also a real intellectual. Surely you can formulate an opinion. Don't hold back"

Rhea mouthed to me a very concerned 'HOLD BACK FOR GODS SAKE!'

But like hell was I going to show those apes any mercy. I fixed Hans' blank, stale gaze, then, with utmost superiority and apathy I replied in perfect French:

"Il y a des gens si bêtes, que si une idée apparaissait à la surface de leur cerveau, elle se suiciderait, terrifiée de solitude."

Finally, everyone shut up. I could still hear some confused 'huhs?' and 'what?', but only Rhea (who else, of course, but her) laughed at my quote, the only one to get me. The others were left flabbergasted, only confirming my earlier suspicions that they were nothing but drunk opportunistic idiots.

"So not only do you not know who said that famous quote, spoiler alert, one of the greatest philosophers of all time, but you also don't understand French, which is one of the main languages imported books are written in. Since you're so adamant on saving us, the dumb sheep, tell me, how do you chose what you give us? I'll tell you how, you don't. You just pick the ones with the most attractive cover. Your colleague spoke earlier about honor. What a joke.

You talk about honor when this whole gathering is a bunch of addicted outcasts. You're not in for the arts, you're in for the imported wine, cigars and brand clothes. If it weren't for the profit, would you still defend this place with might and honor? Believe me, more than half of you will run with the tail between your legs the second things turn shitty. You don't give two fucks about what this place means. It's more than the perfect spot to party. So spare me your savior complex, because all summer, you drink, dance and strike deals, and when the season ends, you return to your homes with valuable goods that'll assure you a good living in the winter.

I saw what you do all day. You laze around in your cars, smoking, gossiping and occasionally transporting tourists or goods. You can't even hold the rifles properly. The job could be done by half the people enrolled so far.

Ask your girl to translate that quote. That's what I think about you. Mainly, that you pose as victims, when in fact, you're the privileged ones." And that's how I ended my small hate-speech. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. Boy, their faces were priceless, some even had their mouths open in shock. On the other side, Rhea took a long drag, and exhaled the smoke, smirking cheekily, noticeably impressed by my bluntness. I returned her smile in the slightest.

The first to break the silence was who else but the nice cirrhotic geezer.

"Tell you what, you're really as annoying as a Greek philosopher. I like you boy, you'll make good company when we meet in hell. " He gave me a naughty smile and grabbed one of those bottles of strong, clear burning rakija. "Wanna Bruderschaft?" He asked and I considered it, but seeing Rhea vehemently cross her arms out like a windmill and move her head in denial, the message was clear.

"Sorry, it's not my type." She breathed out in relief, and I placed my elbows on the table, chin resting in my hands.

He then literally downed most of the content. Ladies and gentlemen, this sick, dying old man was drinking hard alcohol like water. I internally cringed when I saw him take gulp after gulp, thankful for that girl's warning. Man, his stomach was made of steel. The others stared at him as he indulged in an impossible amount of liquor. Many seconds had passed until he reached his limit, leaving the bottle more than half empty. He slammed it very hard on the table, the noise echoing , a strong scrunch on his face. With his eyes closed and a pained yet eager voice, he screamed:

"Rhea, you devil of a girl, if you don't get up and sing RIGHT NOW, I'll set your club on fire. I'll deliver you to the Titans and be done with you forever!"

And that girl sat up in an instant, saluting the commander in a childish, mocking manner.

"Yes sir! Long you live! What should I play for you?"

"Darling, that one I like!" He urged her.

"Your wish is my command!" she cheered eagerly and put on her accordion. After testing her instrument, she hit the keyboards and the voice carried a simple, yet fiery tune. She sang great, obviously.

One foot on the hard wood, then the other, Rhea got up on the table, happily entertaining me and those nobodies that were singing along.

But that description seemed so superficial and vulgar. You see, that girl didn't simply got up on the table, she rose, in slow motion, with the grace of an awakening myth.

Rhea was more than playing, she was dancing, swinging around, her steps exaggerated, as the Garrisons, mesmerized by her, cleared out all the plates so that she could do as she pleased.

She also didn't simply sing, per se, that girl interpreted. She played with us, her mortals, out of boredom, like a child would with rubber toys. And no one questioned their servitude, for you do not fight it when the rare bird finally sings on your shoulder. Rhea left the drunk men's squeals and waltzed to me, with an effortless charm, marching into my existence the way bad luck so often did. I should have been more careful, I should have looked away instead of resting my head in my palm and staring at this girl, the masterpiece of a giddy creator.

The moon continued its descending journey, while I was sure the next morning would greet me with pain in my lower back and a terrible headache. But right then and there, up on the table, in front of me, the creature graced me with a piece of her world and I considered myself happy. She left behind her good intentions: Rhea became the true goddess to her name, calling for my admiration. And the best part was that she didn't even have to ask for it out loud, I gave it to her willingly.

With each movement, with each jump, her clothes, hair and jewelry framed her unnaturally, in circular patterns, as if she were right in front of me, but at the same time, in another dimension with zero gravity. She gave the impression that any moment now, she would start floating and no one would question it, because every man at the table including your favorite misanthropist completely accepted how the Universe had chosen her to prove how ridiculous its fundaments truly were .The anticipation was driving me insane.

The song accompanied the transformation: it had a slow yet emphasizing beat and she changed the notes a little, shifting the song to some special minor scale that could give an undisputed sensuality to every music.

I'd heard the song before, never thought much about it, but she made it sound, with her sweet vocal chords and undisputed madness, like one of the greatest masterpieces that made life worth living:

"So come on, believe me
Follow me home
There's no judgment here
We'll laugh a little, drink a little
See what you're made of
I'm capable of making you disappear
I am the agent that decides your fate."

Oh, didn't I love to notice the subtlety of those lyrics? I'll leave it to you, my readers, to find out what they really mean.

Time flowed so unnaturally, it was early morning already, the moon long gone as the first rays of sunshine were beaming.

And do you know how I figured that out?

It was because she had her back to the sun, and so the golden lights surrounded her figure. She stopped her dancing and stood on the table, illuminated by the sunrise, while I was helpless in the face of her ancestral beauty. A halo framed her pretty features, as if further reassuring me things would, from now on, fall into place, that she had finally arrived, guided by my unspoken prayers, from the world beyond I wanted to escape to.

I felt an intruder, like a low scum who had been allowed to witness a theogony. Every move I made, every breath seemed barbaric, clumsy and uncoordinated compared to the way she weaved with skill her own destiny together with mine. With light radiating from her pores, she defined the notion of an ongoing world. As every second passed, she shaped and reshaped my tiny world with her voice.

Rhea gave me the impression she was the embodiment of reality itself. She was, simultaneously, the creator, the preserver and the destroyer. The others became a blur at her will, everything slowly vanished, until all that she gave permission to be were me, the sea and the table. That girl openly flirted with and teased all my notions of truth, but between me and her, I wanted more of whatever this was. This feeling about how…

I thought the Universe existed solely because we did.

She squatted down in front of me, her indifferent admirer, as she hit the final notes. There we were, with our eyes locked, speechless, both slightly panting. No words were needed.

If we were easy prey, we would have kissed right there. But because awoken spirits come with an even greater pride, we pretended it was all just a song.

The surrealism of the moment slowly dissipated into thin air and she jumped off from the table. Those sober enough clapped, including me.

"Come on everyone, let's go watch the sunrise on the beach!" the blonde man, Hans, screamed with joy. All the others agreed in drunk yells and delighted cheers , and off we went.

We had to walk a noticeable distance to the shore, around 300 meters, through winds, weeds and occasional sand in our eyes . Hans was not in the mood for walking, so he (not so) wisely decided to drive his scooter shit-faced drunk. That was, if you could call it scooter. It was more like a bike with a rusty small engine attached under it.

I was side by side with Pyxis, while Rhea walked in front of us, hugging herself and slightly shivering from the cold. Or to rephrase that, we were following her. The temperature dropped considerably as we got closer to the water, I was thankful for my jacket and boots, now that the alcohol wore off.

"Hey, commander, I was wondering…" but his hiccups weren't much of an answer. " have you lead many people here?"

"Not as much as I would've liked" He said with tangible sadness.

"we-eh, well, it's all the same, that's not the point. Why did they come here? What did they want?"

"Happiness, I guess, like everyone else."

"Well, yes, of course, but what kind of happiness? Didn't they ever tell you?."

"People do not like to speak about their innermost feelings. I mean, look at you, you're the perfect example for that. Why does it concern you?" He questioned, but my gazed was fixed on the horizon.

"Personal reasons..."

"See? Just what I was saying…"

"In any case, you've been lucky. I have never seen one happy man in my life." I pondered, pressing down the horrible memories of my childhood. To my surprise, he swung his arm around my shoulders again. He looked so deep in thought, like a prophet of an abandoned belief, I so wanted to listen to him. But good grief...that smell.

"Me neither. At the end of every summer, I used to lead back a flock of unfulfilled people, to the walls and to the barbered wire; most of them returned to their ordinary lives and I'd never seen them again." He pauses to stare at his comrades in front of us.

"Eheee, I fuck all your mothers in the ass!" Hans yelled over the sounds of his rusty scooter as he passed by, almost clashing into us.

"it's not that wishes become true immediately...but you find wonders in here that make everything else pale in comparison." He realsed me and went right behind Rhea.

"The Pyramids? They're shit.

The gardens of Babylon? Shit.

The Colossus of Rhodes? Utterly shit." And then Dot grabbed the girl into his arms, swinging her up, holding her princess-style. She yelped in a joyful surprise, along with her tortured accordion, but let him carry her.

"Look at this!" He spun her around, showing her to me, as Rhea laughed deeply amused, throwing her head back.

"The Eldian woman, who can be your mother, lover, child, all simultaneously… With her eyes, her lips, her tits! She is the true wonder of the world!" Pyxis spun her around a few times then put her down, while the others sang obscene party songs.

When this whole satirical suite reached the shore, the sun was only a quarter out. Its light reflected in the water, casting a perfect combination of reds and oranges. The blonde man was waiting for his comrades, pushing his vehicle towards us.

"Miss Rhea asks why we didn't build her music lair earlier. " He began angrily. The girl sighed in exasperation, pressing a hand to her forehead. " How could we have done so, when we were there at the walls, facing the Titans?! We were the shield to this place, misters! Meanwhile, our little Miss was on the beach, sipping one of her cocktails and dreaming to be a mentor! I piss in your cocktails, Rhea!" The girl stopped by my side, crossing her arms.

"Ehee Hans!" She said " But did the Titans drink for two years in a row my funds for the club? Say it, did the Titans drink it all?" Her consternation was so childish an innocent, no match for that pervert's ferociousness.

"What funds!? We never have money!" and various cheers and swears supported him.

"Long live the Garrisons!"
"May our worst days be like this!"

"Eat my ass, Titans! Yuhuu!"

"Ayyy, captains! How about a happy song to lift our sour mood?"

And so their filthy mouths began singing various songs about women and alcohol.

Rhea and I looked at each other, and both of us burst out in defeated laughs from our noses, hers louder than mine, obviously.

"Can you believe these guys?" she asked me.

"They look as if only yesterday they had descended from the trees…" And she laughed so that she finished all my attempts to prolong the conversation. We stayed there a little longer, side by side, observing like a ruling pair of disappointed gods the grotesque display in front of us.

"Some people are so stupid, that if one day an idea appeared on the surface of their brain, it would commit suicide, terrified of loneliness. That's what you said earlier about them. It's from…AH! I remember! The Book of Delusions." She broke the silence.

"Exactly. You French is spot on, brat"

"It is, after all, the language of love" She chuckled and really, what the hell was I supposed to make out of that statement? The fuck did she mean? Women were indeed another species…

"Hey…" I stammered, so unlike me. "Do you-maybe…I don't know…do you wanna get out of here? I mean…the sunrise is nice and it looks like…"
"We're missing it. Just what I was thinking. Come on, lead the way." She gestured for me to move.

So we left the monkeys behind, without saying goodbye, and went to look for a wood bench or some other tree trunk. It was always full of those around here, people really liked to watch the sunrise.

We got pretty far until we found something suitable. We rested our tired bodies on a deformed bench, covered by green algae in some spots. The guides' song were a dim cacophonic sound in the distance, as two lost souls sat 3 feet apart, enjoying the sight.

It was delectable, really. Even her cluttering teeth and audible shivers were kinda cute for my sadistic tastes. She really should've brought a jacket or something.

"How about you play something?" She gave me one of those mean looks, but nevertheless took the accordion from her back and put in on her lap. Rhea pressed some keys, but she shortly gave up.

"Oh god, this was a bad idea! It's freezing!" she burst out in frustration. "I'm going home, I'm not catching a cold this time."

"What? Hey, the fuck? You said you wanted to catch the sunrise." I spoke in indignation.

"You can stay and watch it for all I care. I rarely ever miss one. But how can I play when I can't even feel my fingers?"

My god. Okay. Fine, Universe, I got it. I knew what I had to do, you always send your messages loud and clear. Whatever the princess wished for, right? I sighed and got up from my spot, circling the bench until I was behind her. With approximately zero ounces of regret, I took off my big, puffy leather coat and draped it across her shoulders. My hands lingered more than they should, grasping for a second the soft flesh under my fingers. It felt so surreal to touch her, I wondered what great deed must I have done in past lives to be allowed, even for a second, to fondle the sweet arches of her clavicles.

"Better?" I asked and looked down at the top of her head. Rhea clutched my coat closer to her form and tilted her head backwards, until I saw again her beautifully colored eyes.

"Better." Her kind smile almost took my breath away. Almost, I lied to myself. I resumed my previous spot by her side and did not dare to look at this creature again.

"What do you want me to play? How about that song from earlier?"

"Something different please." I could certainly not handle another sensual deconstructing-reconstructing of reality.

"Like what?"

I lit a Marlboro and took a long drag out of it.

"I don't know." I exhaled. "What would you play in the opening credits of the greatest love story ever told?"

"I have the perfect idea..." and her red fingertips began once more a hypnotizing routine.

'Do you now, princess?' I wanted to ask but then she began another song, this one warmer, gentler, and talking felt rude. The sun was gorgeous in its predictable color pattern, her head was leaned to one side and the song carried on as the third realization dwelled upon me:

Are you feeling upside down
Or even empty inside?
I have a couple different faces
If you need a place to hide…

Hell, maybe this existence isn't so bad.

And that's basically how our story began for a second time. The scenery of us, alone on the beach, watching the sunrise with a sad song playing would be forever etched into my brain. As I have recalled the memory many times in front of the typewriter, I tried over and over again to recapture the immense beauty of it. I'd searched in all the dictionaries synonyms for 'paradise', I'd looked up the names for every shade of red, I've geometrically depicted the curve of her beautiful nose.

But alas, I am merely a mediocre writer, and I have given up trying to revive in sterile papers the tremendous simplicity of the moment. No matter how much I'd explain it, you just had to be there to get it.

Even then, back on the beach with Rhea, I did not feel the need to talk, to think anymore. I stopped attributing a nice neologism to every of her movements. Words were simply not enough.

For once in my life, I stopped trying to make a sense out of everything.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this utterly unrealistic chapter of how we want men to perceive us. Bash me in the comment however you please, this fic is all about the surreal being finally fulfilled and stepping over logic and common sense. You might wonder, hey, no normal person, especially one as cold and as rational as Levi, would suddenly adulate a random pretty girl with nerve. Well guess what dears, this ain't the real world.

Also, dearest bitches, I have decided to list the content I get inspired from. This chapter includes ideas from: Tarkowski's Stalker, The Oak tree ( a post-communist movie) and Cioran's Book of Dellusions. The songs included are by Amigo the Devil, called Weight and Dahmer does Hollywood.

My friends be like, Eve, you can't just write individual fictional characters based on different parts of your personality.

LoL. Watch me.