We drifted in a direction that didn't seem to matter. As long as I had Levi, I thought, it didn't matter where we end up. The boat was real. Levi was real, and he spoke real words. I did not want to accept that I was dreaming. It was all real to me.

There was no breeze, other than the ones we exhaled. The time of day was not discernible. Forests could have passed under us. Rocky plains. More cities. I couldn't see it, anyhow. The clouds were prominently thick and cartoon-like. They formed walls that encapsulated us like a womb. I saw nothing past it.

Levi must have thought for minutes before he said things. This followed a long period of quiet, "Do you ever run out of things to look at?"

His pose matched the nature of his question; He leaned on the side of the boat, head propped against wood as if his neck ached from wearing a crown. Boredom.

"I guess not," I said.

"You scan the area every chance you get," he pointed out. He was right.

"As opposed to doing what?"

"I don't know. This," he shut his eyes and mocked sleep.

He has never shied from napping around me. I usually avoided comparing people to animals, but I thought he was like a cat in that way. Except, I wasn't sure if it came from vulnerability or confidence.

I laughed a little. "I used to do that. But I don't like listening to my thoughts anymore."

"Why not?"

"They go too far."

Levi scratched at the wood beneath him. "How is your anxiety?"

I will never forget my first anxiety attack in front of him. I still made faces upon its mention.

"Not as bad," I said, looking down at my thumbs. I've picked at them heavily while I was awake. There was red in spots where I tore close to flesh.

Levi scooted closer and picked my hand up. "Fucking hell," he muttered. "You are fragile creatures."

It was moments like these where I remembered, temporarily, that we were different. Time and again, I wanted to ask him to stop making statements like that, not because he was wrong, but because it made me feel further away from him than I wanted to be.

"Tell me a story, Levi."

"A story?"

"Yeah. As you do." He was contemplative. I added, "It would really help."

Soon after I thought there was no reason to refuse, he said, "No. Tell me about yourself."

I hated that prompt. I never had anything ready to say. Fortunately, this wasn't a job interview, so I felt free to shake my head, "There's nothing interesting about my life."

"Do you have a Ymir?"

"I've never had one."

"Do you have a Petra?"

"I don't know. Depends."

"Depends on what?"

I haven't decided that part. I wasn't so sure nor prepared to speculate over it. "On," I faltered in consideration, "What she is to you."

Levi got to thinking. Was he just as lost as I was on the topic? I thought that was unlike him. He was usually pages ahead of me in most things. "Someone that you feel...bound to, in a way," it sounded like he free-styled that sentence.

"In what way?"

"Something like fate."

Someone that life keeps bringing you back to. I've heard about that specific kind of person in many singers' lives. As much as I loved lyrics like those, I never sang them about anybody. Once people left my life, they stayed out. I made sure of it.

I said, "I don't have a Petra."

He blinked once. Twice. Then turned on his back. I felt like I made things awkward.

I once thought that it was impossible to truly get along with someone without sharing any trauma. And although Levi may have had trauma, it was not like mine. He struggled with things that I didn't. I dealt with things he didn't know of. So, I wondered, what was the glue that held us together?

For however long, we fell silent, until the boat stopped at the bottom of some stairs. My eyes raced to the top, to the intricate roofs that architects must have spent years mapping out. "Is this a temple?" I asked as Levi stepped off of the boat.

"Temple of time," he said. "Come. You'll love it."

The stone was so cold, I thought it would melt under my feet. As we treaded towards what felt to be the highest point in the universe, I imagined Heaven's gates. The typical scenery, stairs with clouds all over. Rays of light, bold and bright, beamed from the top. Except, his divinity did not await me at the top. He lead me to it.

All the way.

There was no dust to dull the shine of the floor or swim in the sunlight. I let Levi walk ahead of me so I could see him between the glassy pillars. For once, he did not take the spotlight from everything around him. Like a black feather on a crow, he fit right in.

It was something to behold.

I did not wake up like I used to. Reality was now mundane. It became the spaces that separated my paragraphs, if my life was an essay. My parents were like the introduction and Mikasa was a side-note. Was it careless of me to blame my subconscious?

Mom. Dad. My sister. I felt like I interacted with them through a fourth wall, like a video game. They were just characters to me. And anyone other than them was only there to fill up space.

If I really decided to treat this life like a game, I could do terrible, evil things. Because the only thing more frightening than a man who thinks himself to be a god, is a man who actually has the power of one. This applied somewhat to cult leaders, because at a tiny scale, they were like gods.

It's a good thing, I thought, that real power was in the hands of people like Armin. Had he been born a human, he would've been a prodigy. People would've known his name, along with his face, because it was incredibly easy on the eyes.

Especially when it became a stage for candlelight to dance on.

He saw me looking. Well, I didn't try to be discreet. I just told the truth, plainly, "Sorry, you're just perfect."

Armin smiled. What else would Armin do? "I don't make a good lover, you know," he tucked his hair back theatrically, the emptiness in his eyes telling me that he was all jokes.

"Enlighten me," I said. I was playing around, too, and I hoped he picked up on it.

His shoulders bounced with laughter. "I can't stand people, that's all," he said.

Night had fallen. Levi slept, tucked off in the corner of Armin's temple. I was not tired. Neither was Armin. We found each other still awake, and now I sat with him right at the entrance, basking in the night sky.

"Do you mean to tell me something?" I was wary.

He shook his head, "I'm just saying I can't be around someone for too long. That's why I'm friends with Levi, because he doesn't get hurt when people tell him to go away."

"Yeah." I knew that. It was why I was friends with him, too.

I looked behind my shoulder to check him. He faced the other way, neck wide open with the way he rested his head on the pillow. The blanket only reached his abdomen. I didn't know how he did it. I always made sure my blankets covered the back of my head, at least.

"He's always around you guys," Armin said, careful not to be too loud. I side-eyed him with inquiry. "Mortals," he clarified.

"I thought he found us hard to befriend."

"Yeah, because you don't last."

Sometimes, Armin's voice defied the bluntness of his words. He looked apologetic for saying what he did, but it wasn't like he was wrong.

"Why doesn't he stay away?" I stared at Levi's back.

Armin followed my gaze. "Perhaps because of who he is," he said. "Ruling dreams brought him closer to mankind. He's more human than the rest of us."

"How?"

"He gets irrational. And sentimental," his eyes flick at me. "Isn't it fitting? He's precisely what a dream is."

I've never thought about that.

I began to turn back around, "What are you?"

"Me?" Armin's eyebrows perked. "Well. I don't know what to call it, but you've seen me do it."

I recalled the unfinished box at the corner of his table. Made of various types of wood, as well.

I remarked, "It's genius."

"Stop. I'm sick of thanking you." We laughed together for the first time. His grinning face cooled to neutral, and he looked down at his fingernails. "Levi's yet to know, but Petra is single as of last week, I'm nearly certain."

I knew I'd be the last to find out, but I thought Levi would be the first. "Hm," I uttered. I check Levi to see if he was still facing away. He was, but I couldn't tell if he was really asleep. It bothered me. "Do you think it's because of him?" I said, loud enough for only Armin.

He didn't say anything right away. I guess he was making a face. "Why would it possibly be him." It was a question; he said it like a statement.

"Didn't he-?" I stopped myself. What if it was about to spread Levi's business without his consent? "Didn't they...have sex?"

"When?"

"On the wedding day."

"Mmm. I remember that. I saw them hug and that was all." Then he said quietly, to himself, "Bastard never told me, apparently."

I extended my stay.