hello hello i'm sorry it's been so long! this is a nearly 12k word chapter, so i hope that suffices as an apology. life is super hectic. enjoy the chapter!
A glaring light from the windows is how you come to, and it disrupts your sleep so abruptly that you immediately flop to the side after waking up, burying your face in the familiar infirmary pillow and shutting your eyes tightly.
"Well, there you go, she's fine."
Chortles ring around the room, and you begrudgingly open your eyes to glare at Oluo for making that smart comment. Rubbing your eyes, you take in the room—the infirmary, or the third home of everyone in the Survey Corp (following their actual homes and then the graveyard). Petra and Eld are on either side of you, while Oluo and Gunther stand by the foot of the bed. Without showing it, a wave of reassurance washes over you knowing that all of them are alright. Just seeing them brings you the much needed relief that the lot of you have all lived to fight another day.
"Look at you, hero," Gunther taunts, eyes twinkling in what you know is newfound ease at seeing you awake, "just couldn't wait for us to get back, could you?"
Classic. "Please, if I'd waited for you to finally drag your ass back here, the titans would have made it all the way to Sina." You sit up, wincing only a tiny bit. Petra's hands hover around you anxiously, but you nod at her, assuring her you're alright. She hands you a glass of water wordlessly, which you down in an instant.
Taking a look around, you note that the infirmary is far less busy than you'd expect it to be. A light heaviness settles in your chest; most soldiers must have died in the city with no chance for medical help. You're just one of the lucky ones who quite literally leaped to safety. Still, the victory plays in your mind once again, as foreign as the idea is, it happened. A victory against the titans. Which reminds you—
"The cadet." Your eyes widen. "Eren, is he okay?"
"As okay as he can be in the dungeons," Oluo snorts. "He'll be having a hearing soon, the military police want to get their claws in like usual."
You nod slowly. Keeping him in the dungeons is a safe choice for now. If the MPs didn't get their way today, then they'd be far more vicious when it came to what actually mattered. It hardly seems fair that you're in a warm bed while he's probably in chains considering he contributed much more to Trost's recovery, but that's just how it has to be right now, you suppose. Better chains than a coffin.
"No sight of the Armored Titan?"
"None, thankfully." Eld ruffles your hair as though it's not messy enough. "For now, things are calm. We've taken care of the titans in Trost. You can rest for a bit, Lieutenant."
"If you need anything…" Petra flutters about anxiously, obviously worried. "More water, soup from the kitchens—"
"A second mother—"
"Oh shut up, Oluo—"
"I'm fine, Pet, really, I am." You wave your hands all jazzily, ignoring the slight bit of pain that remains in your arm. That'll go away in a few days, Petra and Oluo's bickering won't go away for years to come. "I trust the nurses to take care of me."
"Are you sure?"
"Right, because you'll do so much better, Dr. Ral—"
"God, you two are insufferable," Eld says, rolling his eyes.
"What did I do, he's the one who—"
"Oi," a dry voice cuts in as your eyes finally adjust to the brightness streaming in from the window across the room. "Give her room to breathe. She won't recover if you all choke her."
Standing in front of the window is your surly prince charming himself.
A bright ray of light illuminates his face, bringing out those flecks of blue in the grey of his eyes. He's cloaked in his uniform, with some dry blood patches still on the green cloak adorning his shoulders. Immediately, almost alarmingly quickly, your shoulders relax, and you hadn't even realized they were tense. Of course you'd known he was alive, considering he rescued you, but seeing him right here in the flesh brings a whole different wave of calmness that crashes over your heart and puts you at ease.
"And you," he says, stepping up in front of the bed as everyone else obediently moves back, "you're a mess. Hair tie's on your wrist."
With a well concealed grin that he notices and rolls his eyes at, you make quick work of tying your hair up into a bun before falling back onto the pillow. Your eyelids are still slightly droopy, another sign of your not-yet recovery and tiredness, but when Levi's in the room you find it a bit difficult to tear your eyes away from him. Some people agree that he has that effect, although certain strangers who don't know him would probably argue that he blends into the background easily and is therefore easier to ignore.
Over the years, you've developed a bit of a skill to sense him. One way or another he finds you, or vice versa.
"Everyone clear out. I need her report."
"Yes, sir," rings like a chorus around the room, and even the nurse you assume was about to check on you hurries behind the squad as they make their exit. It leaves the two of you alone.
Rather romantically, you sit up again, straighten your back, and begin to recount the details of what happened.
There's no kiss. No groundbreaking hug that sweeps you off your feet. No unnecessary questions about your wellbeing. Just you and your captain, in a professional setting, which is how you prefer it, because that's how it's always been.
When you finish, Levi takes only two seconds to process everything before getting down to business. "That annoying shithead is insisting you get some punishment for your insubordination, so I told him I'd give you one."
Damn, Weilman is petty. "I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit, sir."
"You'll be assisting me with my reports for the next week." At your snort, Levi gives you a Look, letting you know he's extremely serious, so you straighten your mouth into a flat line, nodding as you do your best not to laugh. It's not like you've been doing paperwork with Levi every week for the past three years or so. But what Weilman doesn't know won't kill him.
"Is that all, then?"
"I think so. If I remember anything else, I'll let you know."
"Good." And then, he finally approaches the side of your bed, bringing his hand up to cup the side of your jaw between his thumb and index finger. You sigh into his touch, the most contact that the two of you would dare grant each other in a place where anyone could just walk in. It's not much, but it's everything. Levi is everything.
"Brave girl," he murmurs fondly, giving you a gentle squeeze, "good work." You preen at the praise, leaning into his thumb as it draws circles on your chin soothingly. Even back when you considered Levi your archenemy for life, his recognition meant the world to you. That hasn't changed.
"Thank you." You release a breathy sigh. "And thank you for saving me."
"Mmh. I told you not to run around doing chores," he adds, "and I think I told you I'd put you on stable duty for the rest of your life if you disobeyed. So tell me, what should I do with you?"
"Technically I wasn't doing chores, just my duty." If you'd spent the time, say, washing dishes, then you'd understand, but saving the world can't possibly be categorized as a measly chore.
"Talk your way out of it all you want," Levi quips, pulling away from you with an affectionate flick to your cheek. "I'll get going, don't give the nurses a hard time."
"No promises, sir." You salute. He waves a hand to dismiss you, and then turns to walk away. When he gets to the door, he lets out a slight scoff.
"Oh great, here comes the cavalry."
Before you can question what he's talking about, a young man with lemon-colored hair skids into the room, completely ignoring Levi as he runs up to you and envelopes you in one of the tightest hugs you've ever been in.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? I'm sorry, I would have visited earlier but they were keeping us all busy with city cleanup and Gunther just told me you woke up, what were you thinking, going out with an injured arm, you could have died if everyone hadn't come back when they did, you already have to throw yourself in danger every time you're with that prick—"
"Ricky," you stress, giving him a smack on the shoulder. Levi is making that face he always makes when he and your blonde best friend are in the same room. It's a look of simple, pure irritation. A little bit like the expression he used to wear when you were a cadet. Of course, you were special enough to irritate Levi in a way that was far more annoying than anyone else, and you take great pride in that.
Ricky turns, his eyes going wide when he sees Levi, and he salutes—too little, too late. The captain merely tch-es and walks out of the room with his usual sulky expression. You hide your smile before tugging Ricky back to face you.
"I'm okay. What about you? Is Lily…" You trail off, because it never gets easier to ask whether or not his girlfriend is dead, but these are just the questions that the two of you have to ask each other after every mission and every expedition. Seeking each other out to check in, mourn, or morosely celebrate that no one you loved was unlucky this time around has become an unfortunate, somber tradition.
"Lil's okay. Shaken up because of Trost, not that she'll admit it, but she's okay. She's alive." You nod, making a mental note to check in with her when you can. Now that you have the basic confirmation of life, you take a second to observe Ricky, who looks quite shaken up himself. His hair is all mussy and dusty, and his uniform isn't any better.
It's strange. The normalcy of seeing him like this is strange.
Gone are the days where Ricky Belle doesn't take things seriously. Gone are the days where you don't take things seriously. It's funny, the opposite of what brought the two of you so close together is now what keeps your friendship tied like a knot that couldn't be sliced open with the sharpest blade in the world. In the entire Survey Corp, he's your closest friend, and you thank your lucky stars each day that he's made it this long. Darn good veterans, that's what the two of you are.
Hopefully, it'll stay that way.
The trial goes well.
As well as it can go for the newly dubbed hope of humanity getting the absolute shit beaten out of him. You couldn't help but think, as blood pooled out of Eren's mouth with every heaving breath he took, that he'd be completely justified to not only loathe Levi, but the entire Scout regiment, and humanity on top of that. Hange seemed to share your sentiment, and the two of you exchanged grim looks throughout the trial, disturbed it had to come to this. Neither yours nor Rico's report did anything to sway the MPs' perception. Eren had saved everyone, and this was his just reward.
But to his credit, Eren takes it like a champ, and aside from looking jittery when Levi sits down next to him, he doesn't appear to hold any hard feelings. Hange treats his wounds with a gentle touch and a chipper voice, while Erwin looks satisfied.
Typically, when the commander's dream team consisting of his best friends forever after meets up, he doesn't allow you in, despite inviting Moblit and Nanaba in on some occasions. Who knows what his deal is, Erwin's disdain for you is a mystery you've only put together a few pieces of. This time around, you suspect he's allowed it because Eren might be more at ease with someone he's met before in the same room.
After demonstrating his ample disgust with Hange for picking up Eren's stray tooth, Levi stands and makes his way over to where you're standing with your back to the wall, not leaning, upright and professional like the amazing soldier you are.
"What do you think?" he asks in a low tone.
Your eyes remain on Eren. "Well, he's got guts, that's for sure."
"Is he going to get killed out there?"
"Nah. Look at him, death couldn't take a beating like that if it tried."
"You think I overdid it?"
You turn your head with a grin. "Why are you asking me?"
Levi gives you a deadpan look. He's not a fan of when you quote, pretend like you don't know exactly how annoyingly fucking perceptive you are. Your grin widens, but you consider his question, tilting your head as your gaze falls back on the titan halfling. You know you're insightful, and you know Levi values that insight. Even if it disagrees with his own actions.
"A bit, yeah."
The duke of destruction clicks his tongue. "Noted."
Eren looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You wink, and he smiles a little.
"This sucks," you whine to Gunther, as the two of you and Eld take in the medieval looking base. It shouldn't even be called a base, it's more like a castle. This is the closest you've ever gotten to being a character in one of those cheesy romance novels that you pretend not to enjoy, and that's not an entirely pleasing prospect. "Do you see the size of this thing? It's so unnecessary."
"Because our priority is containing Eren, not extra lodging," Eld explains in an irritatingly condescending tone. You could write him up for that.
"I know that. But I also know that"—you toss a quick glance over your shoulder and your voice drops several notches—"neat freak is going to make us sweep this place from top to bottom."
"Look at him," Gunther mutters, and all three of you discreetly watch as Levi tenderly feeds his horse a carrot. "Do you think he's fantasizing about wiping those dirty, dirty window sills right now?"
You conceal your laugh, taking a second to admire how stoic Levi looks. Your heart swells with that familiar dangerous feeling, the one you try to avoid putting a name to. He's not even doing anything, so Maria knows why you feel so drawn to him in these mundane moments, but maybe when a person lives a life doomed to be cut short, these mundane moments are what come to mind in the end.
It's just…the hidden truth of it all. You're standing here, making fun of him with the other members of your squad as though you're not head over heels for the man, as though you don't feel safest when you're wrapped up in his arms. And he stands there, all dark and imposing, when you know that brushing away a tuft of hair and kissing him on the forehead would send him into an absolute flustered disarray.
It's actually quite humorous, if you think about it hard enough, how much the two of you pretend.
Eld thankfully interrupts your line of thought before anyone can catch you giving smitten heart eyes to your captain. "You're right about the space, I suppose, considering our numbers are probably going to be historically low this time around. After what the cadets had to go through…I doubt many of them will be eager to relive it all."
You and Gunther let out similar sad sighs, because you both know he's right. Not that the Survey Corp has a great recruitment rate in the first place, but with the events in the past few months you think you'd be lucky to get more than twenty members from the entire cadet corp. You can't blame them, but you do wish there was a way, somehow.
"Take a look over there." Trying to change the subject, you gesture over to where Eren is unfortunately caught in between a stern Petra and an injured Oluo, trapped in the middle of their argument. Poor kid. You'd help, but that's a train wreck that you'd like to stay far away from. "At each other's throats again."
"Does…does he know how obvious he is? It's hard to be around them." Gunther makes a face, and you silently agree with his sentiment. The number of times Oluo has painfully tried and failed to impress Petra has broken records for people with hopeless crushes everywhere.
Eld shakes his head dismissively. "Come on. I'd rather deal with the dust mites than watch another second of this."
The halls seem never-ending as you trail right next to Levi, making little check marks on a blueprint of the base with a piece of charcoal you're sure has been here for a hundred years.
As much as you hate to admit it, the place has a certain cozy feel to it. Getting to work feels much better when you have a genuine interest in keeping the place clean, and you could see yourself getting comfortable here, despite the spacy rooms and chilly draughts. And of course, Erwin's plan is well thought out as per usual, it really is the perfect space to contain Eren if he transforms accidentally.
"So I have Gunther and Oluo down for the large room downstairs, Eren for half of the small rooms in this section, Petra for the other half, and Eld for the barracks." As you walk and talk, you and Levi step into the large area at the end of the hallway. You quickly look down at the blueprint, seeing it unaccounted for.
"Yeah, I just couldn't find someone for this room."
Producing a broom out of thin air, Levi shoves it into your hands, taking the blueprint from you. "Found someone."
You squint, giving him a tight-lipped smile that he returns. The second he turns away, you make a face, sticking your tongue out at him as you pull satin gloves out of your pockets and put them on. "You look constipated," Levi informs you without even looking. This makes your nose wrinkle even more, and you wonder where he gets the gall to criticize your jokes when this is his sense of humor.
"That's disgusting." Humming attentively, you twirl the broom in your hands before resting against it, gazing at Levi with a sudden longing. "Hey, how does a nightcap sound, Captain?"
"Absolutely not," Levi says immediately, scanning over the blueprint. He holds out his hand wordlessly and you give him the charcoal. "There's too much of a risk of getting caught here."
Privately, you agree. Outwardly, with the security of knowing everyone else is on the other side of the base right now, you sling your arms around his neck from behind and nip at his ear gently. You're usually better than this. The near-death experience has just left you feeling a little needy, sue you.
Levi scowls, trying to swat you away to no avail. "Cut it out, I'm trying to figure out how much work we have left to do today."
"Boo," you pout, poking his cheek in retaliation before releasing him, "you're no fun."
He doesn't answer, so with a pointedly loud huff, you begin sweeping the floor. The corners are particularly dusty, so you take out a black cravat you'd stolen from Levi (he prefers white ones anyways, even though you have a particular fondness for him in anything black) and wrap it around your nose and mouth protectively. Now armed with your makeshift mask, you slide the broom back and forth, gathering all the dust in one spot.
It's quiet, pleasant work. For someone who didn't clean much growing up, you take to it well enough. Perhaps you're not as thorough and methodical about it as some people are, but you're still meticulous and you never try to cheat out of it, if only because it doesn't quite have the same satisfaction as looking around a neat, organized area and knowing that you're responsible for it.
Oh gross, you sound like your childhood nanny. Levi has made you downright boring, the asshole.
On one side, there is a wooden looking desk that doesn't budge no matter how hard you try, so you kneel down to sweep under it. That's when a light spasm of pain shoots up your arm due to the awkward angle, and you wince, rolling your shoulder back in discomfort. You know the pain should be nonexistent in a few days, but you wish it would stop taking its sweet time.
Even though you didn't make a single sound, Levi is next to you in an instant, almost as if he sensed it. He snatches the broom from you and leans down himself, hurriedly clearing out the dust as you watch, unimpressed. Pushing you away one second and then doing something you can easily do yourself the next. You despise how much you adore him for this exact kind of behavior.
When he's done, you hold your hand out, exasperated. "If you're finished, Captain."
Levi scoffs. "You're welcome."
"Thank you. The door looks tantalizing, doesn't it? You should go walk through it."
"I'll write you up for rudeness and insubordination," he threatens, taking your arm and inspecting it the way Hange inspects titan vomit, "it'll be a full five-page report."
Slickly sliding it out of his hand, you take two steps back, successfully evading him. "If you get me kicked out of the Survey Corp, I'll be homeless. Then I'll have to crash in your room and you'll never be able to get rid of me."
"I'll find a way." The tip of Levi's finger slides against your jaw. "You're being distracting, damn minx."
"Sorry," you offer, feeling an urge to bring his head down to rest on your shoulder and stroke his hair until he's struggling to stay awake. But you can't, for a multitude of reasons, so you just exhale softly on his finger and pull away. "I'll finish up this room and then help Eld with the barracks."
Levi looks tired, but not more tired than usual. He gives you a light pat on the shoulder, lightly brushing away some of the dust on your uniform. "Do a good job," he says, handing you the broom, "I'll go see if the brat did what he was supposed to do."
You nod. "I'm sure he'll appreciate the check in from you, Captain Mysophobia."
"Insolent," Levi mutters, flicking your temple before leaving the room.
You often like to say that Petra's sleeping habits are the flaw that she had to be given so that she couldn't achieve perfection. Even now, about an hour after she's gotten up from bed, her eyes droop, but every time she looks like she's about to doze off, you reach over and give one of those soft red locks a gentle tug. Needless to say, she doesn't share your cheery attitude in the morning.
After amusedly watching her sleepily beat the eggs in a bowl for five minutes straight, you finally take mercy on her and take the bowl into your own hands, quickly whipping the eggs. Petra sighs, yawning and leaning back against the cool walls of the kitchen.
"Remind me why we thought this would be a good idea again."
"It wasn't our idea, it was yours." Of course, that's not entirely true. Petra had, after observing Eren moping about the base, come up to you and asked if you knew any native recipes from Shiganshina, and you'd told her that you didn't know what poor people ate. When she swatted your arm, it struck you with the brilliant idea to just make a whole breakfast feast for everyone.
It's overkill, you know it, but everyone in the squad has been working hard, and as second in command you have to do things that Levi doesn't, which includes keeping morale up in ways besides killing six titans all at once. In fact, you should make some kind of advertisement in the papers for the Survey Corp. Join the Scouting Legion, (F/N) (L/N) benefits included!
Splurging a little on ingredients won't hurt anyone, least of all you.
"Does flour go into omelettes?" you ask, contemplating the bag in front of you on the counter.
"No!" Petra says frantically, holding the recipe in her hands like a holy book. "(F/N), tell me you didn't—"
"I didn't! But someone should try that, baked omelettes sound tasty—don't take the flour, I'm not actually going to do it!"
But she doesn't believe you, and holds it up above her head. Holding the bowl carefully in one hand, you swipe at it with the other, and the force of her swing ends up causing the bag to explode in itself, powdering both of your faces with smeddum.
The two of you stand perfectly still for a second, and then you finally snort, as Petra bursts into giggles. She does her best to pretend she's not laughing, but she can't seem to help it, and eventually a bubbly laugh is escaping your throat as well. She looks ridiculous. You must look no better.
"We'll end up poisoning someone at this rate, Lieutenant." She wipes your face with a towel as you beat the eggs the way your mother threatened to beat you every time you made faces at her stuck-up friends. "You finish up the omelette, and I'll figure out how to serve the bread and nuts."
You hum softly in understanding, turning your back to her as you put in the other ingredients, and yes, only the ones specified in the recipe. This is quite nice, you can't recall the last time you cooked with someone. At best, you and Ricky stole food from the kitchens occasionally, sometimes accompanied by a third person if he was feeling courageous enough, and never a fourth.
It helps that you and Petra are not just in tune with each other on the battlefield, but in everyday life. The whole squad is, really, it isn't uncommon for you to finish each other's thoughts.
From her pocket, you can see an envelope poking out, with the word Father written in Petra's best penmanship. Not bitterly, you think that it must be nice to be able to send loving letters home. Now that you're much closer to Karanes, she should be able to see him soon, perhaps after the next expedition.
"Gushing about your little crush to your father again?" you question quite innocently.
Petra whips her head around so fast you hear a whoosh. "How do you know that I'm writing about someone?" she demands, eyes narrowed.
You wink. "I know because you just told me."
Slowly, her shoulders sag, and she groans, obviously embarrassed about her secret being out. It's not something you picked up right away, but over the past few weeks, you've seen a spring in her step, a certain shininess in her eyes, sweet dreamy expressions when she thought no one was looking. Maybe no one else noticed, but you do spend the most time with Petra out of everyone on the squad, being her roommate and all. You wouldn't describe the two as sisters—there's only one girl you love like a sister and she's all the way back in Stohess—but with how long you've known her, Petra is practically an open book to you.
"So who is it?" Your eyes twinkle. "Is it Ol—"
"Don't finish that sentence," she mutters grouchily, taking the bowl from you as she prepares the stove. "It's not. It's...someone else."
There's a long pause, and then, biting back a smile, you say, "This is where you tell me who."
She simply shakes her head, scanning over the recipes again. You're quite sure she has them all memorized by this moment. Placing your palm flat against the words, you push the papers down, curiously peering at her, silently imploring her to tell you.
It's not that you're trying to pry; it's just natural curiosity taking over. The two of you hardly talk about crushes often.
A puff of air escapes her as she looks at you. "I can't tell you."
"Do I know them?"
This is something she seems to find funny. "Yeah. Yeah, you know them."
So it must be a soldier. Someone in the Survey Corp. How interesting. "Is it me?" you ask slyly, twirling a lock of your hair flirtatiously. "Is that why you can't say?"
"That's exactly why," she quips, mirth filling her face, "I've been hopelessly in love with you since we did our first exercise together."
You can take a hint, sure. She doesn't want to tell you. It must be someone endearing indeed. After all, as you know firsthand, the best relationships are the ones that people often want to keep secret. You wonder who is fantastic enough to warrant her attention.
But whoever it is, you're happy for her. Happiness comes in short supply in this regiment. Most people don't dare try dating, or getting married, and the ones who do understand that they are writing a tragedy for themselves. You're openly in the latter group. Is that sad? Yes. And you still wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
"Besides, you haven't told me who you sneak away to spend the nights with."
This time, it's your turn to gape at her. Of course, you'd have to be daft to imagine that Petra hasn't picked up on your weekly excursions, but you thought she bought your little lies that you were simply going to Captain Levi's office to help with some paperwork.
Which, ironically, isn't a total lie. You definitely help the captain with his paperwork, which is more often than not quite overwhelming and tiring and takes the two of you hours to complete. It's just that, sometimes, afterwards, you straddle his lap and rest your head against his chest, and let him bury his face into your neck for some well-earned relaxation. If the two of you are up for it, you'll move into his bedroom.
So it's at least half of the truth, you suppose.
"I'm just a dedicated, good-hearted soldier," you huff, raising your chin up, "not some naughty minx who spends her nights in her lover's arms." The audacity of you, to use Levi's nickname for you while you tell this lie—you should have been a goddamn comedian, this is hilarious.
Petra laughs. "Are you implying I am?"
"Well, the nights I'm not there, who knows what scandalous situations you get yourself into."
You might want to stop before you give yourself away, but it's just too much fun. And oh, you can't wait to see her face when you tell her that the specks of yellow in the bread are not bits of cheese, but rather some mustard that you thought would go well with everyone's palate.
Some people call you a menace to society. You think it's culinary genius.
Two hours later, you throw an arm around Petra's shoulders, and the two of you stare appreciatively at the breakfast banquet on the table. Both of your heads tilt towards each other, and you nod.
"As I thought. We're incredible."
"We are," she agrees, "come on, let's wake the others."
It is very, very difficult to get yourself to feel sorry for titans. However, you can definitely sympathize with Major Hange. While you didn't personally help to capture the two test subjects, you've been part of quite a few attempts in the past, some successful, and you know fully well it's no easy feat.
Which is why their murder is nothing short of frustrating.
No one takes it harder than the major. That's to be expected, but knowing that doesn't make it any rougher to watch the dark bags under Hange's eyes as the clock hits 1 AM. She doesn't show any signs of tire outside of that, inspecting different soldiers' ODM gear for the umpteenth time.
There's no chance that she won't work through the night.
With a resigned sigh, you acknowledge that that means you will too.
"Moblit." Your tone is loud, so that neither he nor the major will miss it. "You look exhausted."
Hange looks at him as though she's seeing him for the first time, gaze softening and going from intense to worried in a matter of a few seconds. She always looks the most tender when she lays her eyes upon him, or Levi, or Erwin. It's really the only predictable thing about her.
Moblit clicks his tongue in exasperation, knowing your ploy, but since you're right and he is exhausted, he has no energy to argue. His eyes have been drooping for the past half hour, but he never really allows himself to rest when it comes to Hange. Something you admire, sure, but you hardly need Moblit dead on his feet when he carries half the regiment on his shoulders—and you are obnoxious enough to boast that you carry the other half.
"Go to sleep," you say softly, before Hange can tell him to herself and Moblit can inevitably argue. "I'll help out until you're good to go again in the morning."
He looks between you and Hange, carefully scoping out the amount of work to be done. It shouldn't be mistaken; all three of you know that there is no way you will find your culprit like this. But the guilt in the room overwhelms all else, and you know that no one can stop working until Hange stops punishing herself for the titans' demise.
These foolish Scouts. Always blaming themselves, always taking everything upon their own shoulders.
Wordless sentences are exchanged between superior and subordinate, until Moblit's jaw sets and he nods, setting down the papers in his hands and making his way to the door, pausing only to speak with you. With a tired smile, he teases, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to take my job."
You roll your eyes, albeit fondly. "Trust me, I would never even dream of it. No one could take care of Major Hange the way you do." And that's the truth. Levi is a relatively easy person to work for, if one can sidestep the dry comments and caffeine addiction. Hange, on the other hand, is a whole force of nature, as much as you do admire her. Moblit is the only one you would ever nominate for the permanent position. And he's more than capable, as he's proved to you in countless drinking battles that he always wins.
Once he leaves, you get to your task, checking every single piece of gear in front of you before marking any irregularities in them, of which there are few. It's grueling work, one that is certainly not made easier by the absolute lack of success at finding anything that would help the investigation.
After ninety-two minutes of being hunched over separate desks, Hange finally collapses into the chair by your station, head in her hands. You tense sympathetically, pushing your glass of water towards her.
"It just confuses me," comes her muffle voice, as she drags a hand down her face. You wonder which part in particular. Why would someone kill the test subjects? Why is there no hint to point towards who did it? Or maybe why does it feel like in a hundred years, the Survey Corp has made little progress in learning anything about the titans aside from their basic biology?
"It confuses me," Hange says again, "how hot decaying titan skin can be."
You never can guess what the hell she's about to say.
And, you suspect, that's exactly how she prefers it.
"Does that confuse you too, (F/N)?"
"Immensely," you mutter, but Hange catches your sarcasm and grins. She takes off her glasses, tossing them on the table before cracking her neck experimentally. One tired, languid sigh, and she finally looks her mental age, at least twenty years older than she really is.
Seeing how fallible the soldiers of the Survey Corp can be is one of the parts of the job that should seem obvious, but it jars you regardless. People like Levi and Hange and Mike, some of the most senior veterans in the Survey Corp...they're obviously physically strong, because they wouldn't have survived if they weren't. But they're also tough emotionally, because they take hit after hit and death after death and somehow keep going. These private little moments are the only way someone could see just how mentally exhausted they are.
And this strength is most definitely why Commander Erwin chose them. He's the most resilient of them all, you suppose, because not only does he have to witness death, he has to be bold enough to cause it. Oh Maria, that man's psyche is not one you'd ever want to explore, chances are he's more damaged than you could possibly imagine. Good thing the two of you aren't friends.
But you and Hange are, so you take the glass of water in your hand, hunch down in front of her, and hold it out purposefully.
"Drink," you request softly. "Moblit won't be happy if you don't."
"Sounds like blackmail to me," Hange says, but she takes a large swig nonetheless. "I don't like this, (F/N), what's the motive? Someone just hates them that much?"
"It's a pretty big motive. But you're right, it's...weak. Too easy to just be explained away like that."
"Exactly." She taps your nose. "If someone killed these two, why not kill the one we've captured in the past? And if it's someone new, like one of the cadets in the 104th, then why are none of their gears unaccounted for? Are we looking for a—for a dead person?" Hange's hand waves all over as she contemplates this, throwing out every question rattling in her head and bouncing them off you. You only wish you could bounce them back.
"Maybe we are." You lean back, resting against the leg of the desk with a thoughtful expression. "Could someone have taken their own life after murdering the titans?"
"Where would they have where we wouldn't find their body?"
"Dunno, with ODM gear they could probably manage to make it all the way outside the walls. Is that plausible?"
"Hmm." Her lips purse. "Yeah, it is. And with all the casualties in Trost, they'd just be another name on a long list." You mentally shudder at the idea, a thrum of fear blooming in your chest at the thought of being carted along with hundreds of other dead bodies. "Still, though, who dedicates themselves to their cause like that? I know we do," she says as you open your mouth. Smirking, you shut it. "But no one could possibly hate the titans that much."
"I think someone could," you muse, thinking of the indescribable look in Eren's eyes before he'd transformed in Trost. Not that you think it's him—ignoring how the poor kid has been under constant surveillance and has an alibi in Hange, he'd obviously understood that studying the titans was vital if humanity was to defeat them. But at the very least, he's proof that sometimes hate is overwhelming enough that one's own life means little.
"Well, whatever the explanation is, we're clearly not getting anywhere." Hange stands, holding out her hand for you to take. "Might as well head to bed."
You take her hand and stand, blinking confusedly. Might as well head to bed are not words you'd ever expected to hear from Hange. You'd fully expected to work until you saw the sun rising in the morning.
Still, you tie your hair up with the hair tie you'd discarded halfway through the hour, and grab your uniform, which you'd slung on a chair. Tossing it over your shoulder casually, you make your way to the door, only to pause and toss a look over your shoulder to where Hange is standing.
"You're not actually going to bed, are you?"
"Goodnight, (F/N)," is her sing-song response.
Shaking your head, you exit the lab. There's nothing you can do if Hange wants to send you off, except apologize to Moblit in the morning.
The base feels its size, which means that loneliness whispers through the halls and brushes by you in a storm. Every step feels like one contributing to an endless walk.
Yes, you're tired, but you're craving something other than sleep. Quality time.
Changing your direction, you make your way to Levi's office—no, his bedroom. As of right now, this new base doesn't have individual offices set up, so Levi's room serves double as his office. Without you there doing half the documents, there's a chance he could still be working, so you walk with a bit of a spring to your step.
Nighttime might just be your favorite time of day. Whether it's the lovely aura of the moon shining upon you, or being able to take long, peaceful walks or the comforting fact that titans can't move at night, you feel so much safer during the night. And of course, this time is when you get to be the closest with your sweetheart, too.
Levi is not a different person when the clock strikes midnight, by any means. You don't find his affections strange—at least, not anymore—because you can feel his fondness any time of the day. Evening hour is just when he can freely show it.
And, bless him, Levi does. Sometimes you get carried away, and ask for ridiculous things. Requesting to take a sip of his tea, not because you enjoy the taste, but because you want to share something with him. Holding his hand across the table even though two hands typically get the job done faster. Asking him to sign papers shirtless, so you can rub and massage his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against your hands.
Each request that Levi can oblige, he does. It doesn't go past you. Neither does the way his eyes soften when you laugh. It's amazing, six years since you've met him and he still makes your heart flutter.
At the same time, he rolls his eyes, scoffs and flicks you all over, calls you all the names under the sun, and Rose forbid he runs your drills in the morning; you always end up feeling sore for the rest of the week.
Just thinking about it, your chest seizes with a wonderful, painful feeling. You love him. You'll never tell him, but you really love him.
With that thought, you hurry, almost leaping in the prospect of getting to spend a night with him after so long.
You reach his bedroom, grasp the doorknob, fling open the door with a wide grin—
And Levi is asleep already, sprawled on his side with papers strewn all over the bed.
You deflate slightly. Looks like you won't be getting that quality time tonight after all.
He must have dozed off while working, that would explain the uncharacteristic mess. A bed isn't the best place to do all this labor either. It makes getting tired all the more easier, even for a chronic insomniac.
So you quietly pick up the pen and papers, going through what little was left before setting them in an organized stack on the little table next to his bed. Then, you pull the thin sheets up to Levi's shoulders, leaning down and brushing away the flyaways of his hair before giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. He stirs briefly, but remains asleep.
As much as you're disappointed, it's nice to see him so relaxed, in a way that he only ever looks when he's dreaming. When you get to see him like this, you consider how fortunate you are to ever lay eyes upon such a sight. You're not young anymore, neither is he. Death looms closer every day, and every moment is precious to you. Levi deserves to have a good night's sleep more than anyone. Besides, you can hopefully spend some other night with him.
For now, you just produce a sheet of blank paper, scribble a quick note that reads dear levi, a ghost finished all your paperwork, isn't that spooky? sincerely, ghost, blow out the candle at his bedside, and tiredly exit the room.
What a pain in the ass.
Not for you, though.
The beds for the new recruits arrive the same day they do, and suddenly almost everyone has other things to do so they can't bring them in, so sorry. Eventually, you, Nifa, and Rashad end up biting the dust, but it's so warm out that doing any work is torturous. So instead of helping, you lounge lazily on the uncomfortable hardwood of the bed, while Rashad pulls and Nifa pushes.
Abuse of status? Most definitely. Wicked fun? Without a doubt.
Eventually, Nifa joins you, sitting down with a groan while Rashad drops to his knees. For three people who were all in the top ten of your cadet corp, none of you had the brilliant idea to bring a cool flask of water with you.
A couple yards away, several people crowd around one small area, excitedly chattering among themselves. Baby Scouts, you realize.
Squinting, you make out a red scarf, and you identify it right as Mikasa and Armin catch sight of you as well.
Cheerfully, you wave. What better way to welcome them to their new life of misery and unsuccessfulness?
Mikasa simply smiles (if a twitching of lips can be considered a smile), while Armin waves back. They both seem confused as to what exactly you're doing.
Hell if you know. Without clarifying, you flop back down, biting down hard on your lip when the wood digs into your back. An incredible first impression of the entire regiment, if you're being honest with yourself. A perfect example of total, utter failure.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes?"
"I don't mean to intrude, I just noticed you're here every morning exercising, and I was wondering...well, I was hoping…um, is it okay if we talk right side up?"
"Oh! Yes, sorry, I forgot I was doing a handstand."
"Wow, I don't think I've ever forgotten that I was doing something while I was doing it."
"You'd be surprised. So, how can I help you?"
"Um, I was in the 104th, so I've completed my three years, but I was still wondering if you could give me some tips. Or even let me train with you in the mornings? I want to become as strong as I can before the next expedition. I was in the top ten, but...I just, I want to get better."
"Really? Yeah, uh, sure, I don't see why not. I can definitely give you a few pointers. And don't worry, I haven't staked some claim on this tree, you're free to come by whenever you'd like."
"Thank you. You're Lieutenant (L/N), right? Captain Levi's second in command?"
"That's me! And your name is?"
"Krista. Krista Lenz. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise. So, Krista, have you ever done calf raises?"
You've become slightly more accustomed to the chilliness within the base, which you've realized somehow disobeys all laws of nature, considering how scorching it is outside. Oh, well. Just one of those mysteries you're too busy to investigate.
There are plenty of ways for someone to warm up.
And you know that better than anyone, pouring two warm cups of tea in the dead of night, still in uniform (sadly) instead of your cozy nightgown. Today has been rather tiring. But it's not over yet.
"Is that for me?" comes Levi's quiet voice from the entrance. He steps in like a shadow—ironic, since you often appear to be like his shadow when you trail around behind him all the time. Without waiting for your answer, he steps up behind you, reaches around, and takes the spoon of sugar from your hand delicately, pouring just a half teaspoonful in one of the cups before stirring idly.
"You're actually taking a break? That's a first." You take the spoon back, dumping the rest of the sugar into your waiting mouth just to annoy him. Sure enough, he thumps you on the stomach with his fist, making you choke on a laugh.
Concurrently, he noses your hair gently, and you hear the sound of his soft, breathy exhale. "No. I finished early. That's one benefit of not dealing with your side conversations every two minutes."
"No, it's one benefit of being the commander's boy toy." And your side conversations are amazing, thank you very much. When else would the two of you discuss what ability Levi would prefer to have (jump very far or jump super high? You thought high was the natural choice, but Levi asked you what the point was of being high up when you were stationary. You didn't enjoy this attack on your logic.)
Levi scoffs, but he doesn't say refute you—interesting, so he's not denying it anymore—and simply continues to press your back into his chest. It's the most contact the two of you have been able to share in weeks, and naturally you melt against him.
"Come to my room," he says in a low tone, "it's been too long."
You can't help yourself. Whirling around, Levi gets a full view of your gleeful expression as you recall what he'd said earlier. "We'll get caught here, (F/N)! It's too risky, (F/N)! I'm a strong independent man who doesn't need you, (F/N)!"
"Shut up, (F/N)," he repeats dryly, fingers toying with your hair tie but not undoing it just yet. "We get up earlier than most everyone else. Just leave in the morning before anyone can see."
It's amazing that he's telling you this as though you were the one with the concerns.
The prospect is still temptingly inviting. Whether he wants to have sex or just have you put your weight on him as he presses soft kisses into your hair, you've missed and craved this intimacy. You want to agree. You want to spend the night with him, you want to spend every night with him.
Alas, you made a promise to yourself.
"As much as I'd love to, I have plans tonight." You pick up the tray which now contains the other cup of tea, a plate filled with sweetbread, and a deck of cards, stepping away from your captain's inviting arms.
Levi's eyes flicker down to the tray. Coolly, lowly, dangerously, he asks, "Got a date, huh?"
Jealousy is a delicious look on him, even if you know he's not actually jealous (the two of you are well beyond that point). "Oh, my darling," you coo, "you know you're the only one I enjoy going on dates with."
"Then where are you going?" he demands, almost petulant. You enjoy it for a second longer, and then, with a sigh, you explain.
"I still feel bad for what happened today with the spoon. We shouldn't have all panicked and yelled at him like that. Biting our hands—which hurt like a bitch, by the way—doesn't really seem like enough of an apology. So I'm gonna keep him company tonight. The cellar doesn't seem like much fun, you know."
Learning that you're choosing to spend time with Eren of all people over him makes Levi scowl deeply, but you can see in his eyes that he thinks you're doing the right thing. Sure, you'd dropped your swords when he'd told you to, but that had been more demonstration of your trust in Levi, not in Eren. And how can you expect the guy to put any faith in you when you can't do the same?
Over the years, you've learned one valuable lesson—several valuable lessons, really, but you're too cool to remember all of them. One of the lessons that sticks out is that trust is not only earned out in the battlefield, but in the quiet moments. The happy moments. The fun moments. Seeing a person's tender side is equally as important as seeing how well they can fight. Eren knows you're all capable, but he doesn't necessarily know much else about you.
So, instead of spending time with your beloved dour-faced captain like you desperately want to, you're going to go down to that cellar and you are going to lift that kid's spirits no matter what.
You wonder how many times you'll have to say some other time, but for now, you tell yourself just. Once. More.
Eren is considerably surprised to see you, and even more surprised to see that you've brought treats with you. His bed is in the corner of the dusty room, an area that, despite Levi's meticulous cleaning, just gives off an aura of filthiness. You'd never want to sleep here.
"Do you like tea? I made some." You situate yourself on the foot of his bed, sitting with your legs criss-crossed. Setting the tray down in front of you, you take the teacup in your hands and hold it out for him. Eren takes it gingerly, but he doesn't drink right away.
"I do, but, uh, Lieutenant, shouldn't you be in the barracks?"
"Do you not want me here?" you tease, leaning back.
"No!" he says quickly, sitting up straight. "No, I just thought…" Eren trails off, looking down at the thin sheets with a frown.
You don't need him to say it. I thought you were afraid of me. And he isn't...wrong, per se. The idea that a seemingly normal boy can turn into a fifteen meter monster by merely biting his hand is terrifying. It makes you uneasy, how could it not? But that doesn't mean you're scared of Eren, just of the concept in general. If you possessed the abilities he did, you'd be wary of yourself, and it hits you with a pang that he probably is.
"Ever played Slapjack?"
The brunette's head shoots up, relief that you aren't pushing the subject openly drawn on his face. "We used to play it all the time in the Training Corp."
"Yeah?" Sliding the cards out from the box, you begin shuffling. "Are you any good?"
"Not much skill needed to slap a card," Eren says, leaning forward eagerly. You wonder how long it's been since he's played a game. At least he's seeing more of his friends now, but still, the constant surveillance would make having any fun with them very difficult indeed.
As you begin dealing the cards, he brings the cup to his mouth, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him grimace at the taste. It's not as though you tried to make it terrible. You imagine that up in his room Levi is making a similar face.
"How is it?" you wonder innocently.
"Good," he chokes out, forcing himself to take another sip for your benefit. "R-really good."
Aw, how polite. Some people would just straight up tell you that it was awful. For a second, you appreciate someone who hasn't been completely roughed up by the military yet, and then you decide to show him some mercy.
"Don't bother drinking it all. Here, have some sweetbread." You push the tray towards him and take the cup before he can say anything, swallowing it all in one shot. Thanks to your lover, you can stomach the bitter taste of tea slightly better now. It's still slightly disgusting, but that might just be how you made it.
"I swear it's not the tea," Eren protests, "I just prefer milk."
You pause, a slow, amused smile forming on your face.
"Noted."
Now that you've dealt the cards, the two of you face the center, thumbs ready on the top of the deck in your hands. After one minute of silent flicking, almost simultaneously, both you and Eren begin throwing down facts along with your cards.
"My favorite color is grey."
Flick.
"I really wanted a dog as a kid."
Flick.
"I grew up in Stohess."
Flick.
"Jean stole my favorite pants once."
Flick.
"Who's Jean?"
Flick.
"Pain in the ass."
Flick.
"My horse's name is Horsey."
Slap.
"Ha, take that! I called Jean Horsey once."
Flick.
"I can't wait to meet this guy."
When the round finishes, Eren is the one who's avidly shuffling and dealing the cards this time. The plate is half empty, thankfully he's actually eating the bread you bought for him. It must be getting late, but you don't really feel like ending the night early, not when Eren is finally getting a chance to enjoy himself.
Knowing what's coming, he'll need all the happy moments he can get.
Heavy footsteps make squelching noises as everyone runs, desperate to avoid the rain and wet mud as they take cover in the weapons shed. You're the last one in, and as such you don't close the door behind you, instead just peering up at the dark clouds forming with a grin on your face.
Oluo scoffs behind you. "Don't start dancing now, (F/N), no one wants to mop up your dirty footprints."
"Why would she start dancing?" Nanaba questions, wiping her hair with a towel that she's located on the shelves.
"You should see her in the rain, it's disgusting—"
Henning barks out a laugh as you aim a kick at Oluo's shin. He dodges, swerving under your arm to grab you around the middle and lift you up, though he struggles, especially with your flailing legs. In no time at all, you're back on the ground, twisting his arm behind his back as he yields with several smacks to your arm, groaning out, "Oh, let go, you freak!" When you step back, failing to hide your amusement, he snarks, "Let's see how much you're laughing when Nanaba takes you down."
"As if! No offence," you placate the blonde, who raises a brow at you. She's your senior, and that was a direct challenge.
"Some offence taken. But I guess we won't know unless the rain clears up."
"I hope it never stops," you declare, leaning against the doorsill and watching the destructive downpour. "I hope it keeps raining for the rest of the week."
You and Nanaba had been sparring before it started, since you two were the most evenly matched in the entire Corp. ODM, Petra and Oluo both had you beat, and Gaelgar probably did too. But hand to hand? After sparring with Levi for years, Nanaba was the only one in the regiment who could take you on, which made sense, considering the only ones better than you were both your immediate superiors.
While you and her had been going at it, Oluo had roped Henning into adding unnecessary comments at the sidelines, intended to distract you and make you lose. And now, the four of you are all hiding out together, so who's the real loser here?
"This really is enjoyable for you, isn't it, (F/N)?" Henning chuckles, taking a seat, knowing that you'll all be in here for a while.
"I do love the summer rain," you muse, a nostalgic smile forming on your face. Why, no one knows but you.
Growing up, you hadn't been taught to savor food, since there was always plenty to go around. But in the Scout Regiment, filled with they-get-mad-when-you-call-them-poor-but-what-else-are-you-supposed-to-say people, it's different. Every bite matters. Every bite may be the last one you take that day. The last one you take, period. But frankly, that's a little dramatic, even for you.
So you don't rush. From your airy position on the roof of the base, you soak up the brightness of the sun, stretching like a cat as you take a vicious bite from the bread in your hand. Next to you, Ricky rips into his piece just as brutally, not concerned at all about propriety. It's amazing. Propriety sucks majorly.
"How much longer do we have?" You lay back, licking the fingertips on your right hand one by one to get the crumbs off.
"Dunno." Ricky shrugs, unbothered. You think maybe you and him could spend eternity up here. "Any urgent work you have to get to?"
"Depends on your definition of urgent."
"If you don't get to it, will you be shot?"
That's cute, he's picked up your supposedly bad sense of humor. "No, I'm far too valuable for that."
"Then you're good."
Sitting up, you shift so that you're pressing your back against his arm, resting against his lean form comfortably. Ricky interrupts your newfound coziness, shoving you forward so you fall into his lap. With minimal squabbling, you make a position for yourself like that too, closing your eyes and letting the heat kiss your skin.
What a boring routine.
You love it. You hate routine, but you love this.
And Ricky, though you'll never tell him, is one of your favorite people in the world. Not to mention one of the bravest. After losing so much, his family, his hometown—
Your eyes snap open. "You're from Shiganshina!"
"Only took you six years to notice!" he says encouragingly.
It's not that you'd forgotten, it was just such a sad topic that you avoided talking about it. But now...now might be as good a time as any.
"Hey." Swiftly hitting his shoulder, you make him look down at you. "There's someone I think you should meet."
Commander Erwin is taking his usual favoritism to a new level, honestly. The only people invited in his new office are his three best friends forever, while you stood outside like a pet that wasn't allowed in shops. Hange and Mike, knowing the meeting would run late, told their respective second-in-commands that there was no need to wait and that they could go to bed. Levi had looked you dead in the eyes and told you that if you even thought about moving from this spot, he'd have you running laps until your legs fell off.
It's like he doesn't even know how bored you get. Counting the number of tiles on the floor becomes extremely dull the fifteenth time around. Luckily, there isn't any need for a sixteenth time.
The door flies open and Levi is the first one out, walking forward without a single glance thrown at you. You don't need one to push off the wall and fall in step behind him.
The walk is silent. Levi is clearly tense, a serious frown on his face that you know must concern the expedition in two days. It's definitely going to have high stakes, since it'll determine Eren's fate. You're not looking forward to it, but you don't look forward to any of them. Most of the time you find it in you to be grateful that you're not involved in the big meetings, because that would mean thinking about the expeditions instead of just pushing them to the back of your mind until they happened.
Years later, you are still afraid. Confident, reassured in your skills and that of your comrades, but afraid nonetheless.
If Levi shares that fear, he doesn't show it. Except for the nightmares that plague and wake him at three in the morning, making him immediately seek out your hand, unintentionally rousing you. He almost always ends up buried in your chest, where you stroke his hair and coax him back to sleep, whispering whatever meaningless reassuring words come to mind, anything to keep your heart from breaking at the sight of his panicked, terrified expression.
What he does the nights you're not with him, you've asked about, and he always shortly responds that he simply deals with it.
You follow him to his bedroom, where you close the door and lock it for good measure. Levi skips the bed entirely, choosing instead to walk up to the window, where the moonlight illuminates him beautifully, in all his haunted glory.
Whatever they discussed has obviously bothered him.
"Captain?" you try, crossing your arms over your stomach, brows furrowed in concern. "What is it?"
Normally you don't attempt to pry for information, because doing so would almost be like asking him to choose between you or the commander, and you'd never put him in such an impossible situation. But tonight, you want to be able to relieve at least a bit of his tension.
Instead of answering, and without breaking his gaze away from the window, Levi asks a question of his own. "Do you trust me?"
A few seconds pass as you register the absurdity of the query. "Should I even dignify that with an answer?"
"No," Levi sighs. "I know you do. But…" He trails off, shaking his head at his own reflection. "The expedition...it's going to be different."
"How so?" you press, leaving your position by the door to get closer to him.
"I trust you," he says, evading the question once more, "I hope you know that."
"Yeah, I've got a slight clue. What's going on, Captain?"
Once you're right next to him, Levi looks at you, and you see all the raw emotion displayed in his eyes that you never see in anyone else's. He walks around with a dull, dry, boorish expression, so that no one will be brave enough to take a closer look. Because once they do, he's an open book, available for anyone and everyone to read.
He allows you to read whenever you want.
"I trust you," he says again, "but right now I can't tell you what's going to happen. I just need you to know that there's going to come a time where I'll need you to trust me, more than you ever have in the past, even if I give you no reason to. Will you do that?"
That certainly wasn't what you were expecting to hear. What could Levi possibly know for sure is going to happen on the expedition that he needs to make this request of you? And what could possibly be this event that's going to give you no reason to trust him?
As if that could ever happen.
"If you told me to throw myself out this window, I would," you say softly, "just so you know where we stand."
Levi clicks his tongue, not pleased or displeased with this response. His attention turns back to the window, but the frown doesn't leave his face.
"Oh," you murmur.
"What?"
"Your cravat is askew."
Surprised, he looks down, and you bite back a snort.
"Made you look."
The easygoing days are gone. These past few weeks will mean next to nothing come all the death and destruction in two days. Hell if you can't make them last as long as possible, though.
And making Levi glare at you is exactly the way you do that.
You blow him a kiss, even though you're just a few inches away from his lips and could easily give him a real one. With a cross sigh, he reaches down and takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. The simple action makes your heart clench painfully, now finally feeling how much you've missed him even though you've seen him everyday. It's some fresh type of cruelty, being with the person you love but not actually getting to be with them.
Stars twinkle above you, teasing and bright. You point them out to your captain as you peer out, lost in the pretty view for a minute before you realize he's not looking at the stars, enraptured by something else entirely.
Your brows raise. The sight is outside.
He shakes his head. I've seen that sight a thousand times now.
You've seen me a thousand times too.
And it's still not enough.
You laugh, taking his other hand in yours and leading him to the center of the room. Levi lets you pull him with no hesitation, and you take that as a symbol of trust too.
"We haven't danced in a long time, don't you think, Captain?"
"We haven't done a lot in a long time," he confirms, although there's an easy keenness playing on his face.
Setting one of his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulder, and holding up your still joint pair in the air, you state, "Let me teach you how to waltz."
"What for?"
"It's a useful skill."
"Maybe to you, bratty duchess."
Despite his comments, he listens to you attentively, and watches your every move with rapt attention. For you, it's muscle memory, from years of lessons and parties. Back with right, side with left, close, forward with left…
Within a few minutes, you're dancing in front of the bed, as properly as you would if some rich gentleman was in Levi's place. He takes to it so easily and so well that you wonder if there's anything that he's bad at. Idly, you amuse yourself to the thought that with more money and a less severe personality, Captain Levi would be your mother's ideal candidate for a son-in-law.
And you even like him, which she'd consider a bonus.
Eventually you give up on the waltz, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek to his as the two of you slowly spin in his room. With two fingers, you can feel his pulse, and that's enough of a melody for you, but to your surprise, Levi begins humming a low, pleasant tune in your ear.
It's times like these the most selfish thoughts come to the front of your mind. You don't want to fight. You don't want to die. You don't want to leave his embrace.
When he stops humming, you ask teasingly, "Still don't know how to dip, sir?"
"Funny," he quips, "didn't I sweep you off your feet that one time?"
"Not the right way. I don't think you could do it if you tri—"
Effortlessly, with a careful grip on the back of your stomach, Levi tilts you down, and the drop in your stomach that makes you gasp is quickly replaced with a flurry of butterflies, butterflies that should have died years ago.
"...Smooth," you relent, and a slight smirk forms on his features. "I'm impressed, Levi."
He keeps you there, drinking you in, drinking the moment in. The happiness of it despite the upcoming doom.
You hope that no matter what happens, he always remembers to find these happy moments, with or without you.
And you wish, you wish, that you could always be here to ensure such a thing.
But the future is approaching rapidly, and even as Levi brings you back up, pulls you into his chest, and breathes comfortingly into your neck, you can't help but realize that you're absolutely terrified of what it holds.
and not even a single kiss. who said that you couldn't pine for someone even after you're in a relationship with them?
fun fact: the scene with levi handing reader the broom is one of the first scenes that i dreamt up when thinking about this story.
the next chapter should be shorter, which hopefully means it'll be out quicker! you guys know what's coming next, right? :)