A/N: So here's part two of the first section of this roleplay for you lovely people!
WARNING: Although this part isn't exactly explicit, there are definitely adult themes ;)
Caesar & Rocket Roleplay:
Pure Shores
Until I Saw the Sea – Part 2
"Maybe not," Levi concedes, not yet moving away. "But you will definitely get sick if you stay in this cold ass water." He cocks an eyebrow at her, hoping he hasn't shown any signs of his heart dropping into his stomach like a stone. He wonders if she would comment on it if she did see it. "So will you stop being a pain in the ass and get out with me?"
The water feels suddenly so much colder and less inviting, now that she's had such a revelation dropped on her; the carrot dangled and then just as quickly snatched away.
Historia studies his face, wondering if he has any small inclination of the thought that passed briefly through her mind when they were so close to one another just moments ago. "Uh ... fine. I'll get out. But I'm not leaving yet."
She turns from him without waiting for his response, swimming towards the shore.
"That's fine." He nods in acknowledgement even though she turns away and doesn't see it.
Great.
Now he's pissed her off again.
He swims to the shore after her, his face heating up again as she gets out of the water, her undergarments practically see through. He averts his gaze to the horses, keen on getting something to dry off as he beelines for them, running a hand through his hair nervously.
Historia stalks out of the water, making a beeline towards her horse, where she knows her towel is tucked away inside the saddlebag.
She rummages around for it, fingers finding the food she'd packed for herself. And for Levi. Ugh, how pathetic.
She grasps the towel and pulls it out, wrapping it around her shoulders. It's only small, but it will do the job, she supposes.
The sound of sand shifting underfoot makes her turn, and her eyes fall to Levi.
Her fingers twitch against the towel as she catches sight of the absolute perfection that is his body - would she really have expected anything less of Humanity's Strongest? Water drips down his sculpted chest and along the ridges of his abs, and it makes her want to howl. Why did she have to start such a stupid craving for him, of all people?
Her eyes reach his face, and she realises he's blushing, averting his gaze.
What ...?
Then she glances down, and to her utter horror, realises her underwear has gone practically see-through in the salty water.
Really?
What perfect timing.
She clears her throat as she rapidly turns her back to him, trying to preserve what little modesty she has left.
"How're you going to get dry? Do you have a towel?" She mutters to him over her shoulder.
Levi's gaze wanders for a moment, catching a glimpse of the curve of her waist that's become more defined as Historia has gotten older. Her body has filled out in a way that reaffirms that she's a woman now, and he hates how his stomach explodes with butterflies.
He lingers on the towel before making a decision.
He plucks the towel from her shoulders, ignoring her sound of protest as he tosses it over one of his shoulders. He grabs his green cloak from his saddle bag, unfolding it before draping it carefully over her shoulders, making a point to keep his eyes on her face.
He doesn't care how red his face is in that moment.
"There," he says quietly.
Levi makes no sound to answer, so she turns, only to come face to face with him as he just swipes her towel from her shoulders.
Just takes it.
"Hey!" She exclaims as he turns away from her, tossing it over his shoulder.
She's never been one to play on her title, at least not in a serious manner, but Walls is he pushing her in that direction now. He doesn't even acknowledge her protest, busying himself with his bag. Words about how he should show some damn respect to her - his Queen - begin to form on her lips, but before she can force them from her mouth, he's back standing before her.
She blinks at him a couple of times, before realising he's just wrapped his cloak around her shoulders.
His green Survey Corps cloak, which is much bigger and more durable than any towel.
She feels her mouth open and close several times, suddenly unsure what to say, and his blush registers with her again.
"Huh ... thanks," she finally stutters, his intense eye contact sending her reeling.
He can see the irritation on her face—she wears her god damn heart on her sleeve at times, it's so easy to tell—and then he sees it dissipate.
His cloak looks so right on her. It's any standard cloak, really, but his is worn in and so well-cared for despite the countless missions he's been on with it. Historia, looking up at him with his hands so close to her neck and face, her rosy cheeks begging to be caressed as she stares up at him.
He hates how his pulse quickens under the scrutiny of her bright eyes.
"You're welcome," he replies hoarsely. "Just don't get it dirty or fucked up."
The way he's looking at her makes her throat dry.
Why is he looking at her like that, with his cheeks tinged pink?
She sees his eyes stray to her neck; her cheeks. Her heart hammers, but she doesn't dare allow herself to go there again - to hope - because these stupid feelings that have suddenly reared up in her need nipping in the bud as soon as possible, before what he says and does to her matters that bit too much to bear.
She's grateful when he finally answers her, breaking the moment. His reply makes her give a short, sharp laugh.
"It's just a cloak. Obviously I wouldn't intentionally ruin it, but why do you care so much?"
She knows he's always been obsessive about neatness and cleanliness, but these cloaks are standard issue.
Levi inhales slowly as he considers her question.
But really, can he give her anything other than the truth?
"Erwin issued it to me when I became Captain when my old cloak got shredded on an expedition."
He shifts on his feet as he shrugs on the towel he took from Historia, blocking out the sea breeze that chills him.
She clutches the cloak around her for warmth as she listens to him speak.
Her eyes grow wide as the gravity of his words sinks in, and she stares at the green fabric between her fingers. That means ... Levi's had this cloak since before Erwin fell at Shiganshina. Before he lost his squad on the 57th Expedition. He was probably wearing this cloak when he met her for the very first time ...
Keeping a cloak this long in the Corps was quite a feat, and honestly, Levi was probably the only one that could manage it.
She glances back up at him, and her eyes glisten as she's taken aback at how sentimental he must be, beneath the layers of stoicism and coldness.
"I ... this ... is a very old cloak."
What a crap response. She inwardly kicks herself that she hasn't thought of anything more meaningful to reply to him.
"Yeah." He nods, his stomach flipping as he realizes that she must be beginning to see how sentimental he is beneath all of his bullshit.
He doesn't know how to tell her all the things he managed to keep this cloak through, the seams he's restitched on the collar of the cloak, or the nights he's slept in this very cloak when he wasn't sure if he would be waking up to a fight or ambush.
"I almost lost it when we had to make our exit from Mitras, after Annie."
He remembers having to get his knives on a whim, his ODM gear, and he nearly missed his cloak as he ran out.
"Huh ..." She just listens dumbly, mind reeling at the sudden rush of feelings he's awoken in her chest.
How long has she been watching him without realising? Subconsciously searching him out in a room full of people? Unknowingly listening out for his voice in the chaos of military engagements? Longing for his attention when he visits the Orphanage and lavishes it upon the children?
His words fade into white noise as she stares into his stormy eyes, and all she can pay attention to is the way his throat bobs as he speaks, and the muffled thud of her heartbeat in her ears.
Don't chicken out again, Historia. You're the Queen; what's the worst he could do? Reject you?
She inhales sharply at the thought, quickly pushing it aside before it robs her courage.
He's frowning at her now. Did he ask her something?
Her eyes dip to the thin line of his lips, and she wonders how they might feel against her own. They look chapped; rough from too much time spent out in the elements. She wets her own at the thought.
No sense in hanging about if she's going to do it, then, is there?
She looks back up to his eyes, and words slip from her mouth, small and breathless.
"Kiss me."
She doesn't say anything. She just stares at him, her eyes wandering from his.
It makes his neck hot, being under her scrutiny this close, nearly nude, literally baring a vulnerable piece of himself to her.
He frowns as she just continues to stare, not saying anything.
She licks her lips; he does in turn without even thinking.
Her words echo in his ears.
Kiss me.
He blinks, eyes widening in shock. He wants to say yes or to just grow a pair and do it, but instead he freezes up at the turn of the conversation.
"What?"
Oh, she doesn't have time for his hesitation. Her boldness might not linger too long.
Her hand grasps at the towel around his shoulders, and without thinking, she yanks him down to her.
Her mouth meets his clumsily. She was right about his lips - they feel like sandpaper against hers as she kisses him urgently, her soul lifting at the contact. In contrast, his clean shaven jaw is surprisingly smooth against her own delicate skin.
Her whole body tingles with the realisation that she's actually kissing Captain Levi - a man at least fifteen years her senior - and it feels good.
So good.
She tosses the towel aside so she can wrap her arms around his neck, and her fingers brush through the stubbly hair of his undercut.
He wonders if she'll take back the words, if she'll decide he's too much of a coward, when she suddenly grabs the towel and pulls.
And then her lips are on his, clumsy as he leans into her. His nose bumps hers awkwardly as he tilts his head to readjust—when was the last time he even did this?—but then he sighs against her lips.
Historia is kissing him.
She's kissing him.
He feels young as he wraps his arms around her small body, pulling her so her warmth envelops him through his cloak on her shoulders. Her lips are soft against his, and yet her touch is full of want as her fingernails scrape his scalp where his hair is closely shaved.
He wants to pull away, to ask why him, but he doesn't want this moment to end.
She clings to him like a moth to a flame; partly because she doesn't want the euphoric feeling fluttering through her chest to leave, and partly because she's scared that if she pulls away, they'll both come to their senses.
Relief washes over her when he wraps his strong arms around her waist; pulling her flush to him as their kiss deepens.
He wants this, too.
She's very aware of the way they're scantily dressed, and their skin is still slick from the salt water. But she's not cold anymore. His body is ablaze as he's pressed to her, and she wants to shelter in his warmth for the rest of the day.
Their lips smack noisily as she tries to pause for breath without pulling away, and Levi chases her; neither apparently willing to end the moment before the other.
Finally, she knows she'll have to break to breathe properly, or her lungs may give out. She pulls back, trying not to pant in his face, although her chest heaves from the exhilaration.
"Sorry ... I just ..."
She's not sure why she's apologising. It just seems polite, really.
His heart sinks again at her sorry.
Oh. Oh.
"You're fine," he grits out, loosening his hold on her. "I understand."
He understands that she deserves better. That she deserves more than him. She's the fucking Queen. What could she want with him? What could he possibly give her?
So many thoughts run through his mind as a result of her damn sorry.
She feels his hands slacken at her words, and immediately she realises he's misunderstood.
"No." Her voice is firm but gentle at the same time as she grabs his hands before they can move away. "I'm not sorry ... I just ... didn't mean to jump on you ..."
She pushes them back on to her waist, before hesitantly reaching back up, this time to clutch his cheeks. She strokes a thumb across his cheekbone as she coaxes his lips back on to hers.
Damn, his kiss feels so good.
She wonders how experienced he is at this - he can't be any less experienced than she is.
Historia's hands are back on his before he can move away, grabbing him in her grasp, pulling him back to her.
She wants this.
She wants him.
He parts his lips to comment, to ask why, to literally put his fucking foot in his mouth because that's what he's best at. Yet, her lips are once again on his, and his body relaxes. His body seems to know that this is something he's been craving for so long and that it's something that he's just fucking wanted.
A brief thought crosses his mind—how experienced is she?—and he feels possessive, positive he hasn't seen any suitors come around, gripping her tighter as he kisses her.
He's clearly not annoyed by her sudden advance. She feels his grip on her tighten, and she wants nothing more than to let him take control; to possess her, the way he possesses his opponents on the field of battle.
Her fingers trail down from his cheeks, across his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone, all the while continuing the assault of her mouth on his, her kiss growing more desperate as the realisation of how much she actually wants this begins to take hold. Her hands reach his biceps, and she digs her nails into the skin there, marvelling at the power in his muscle as he grips her tightly.
She's going to have to stop this soon. Before she gets in over her head. But her mind and body seem to be going in different directions as she presses herself closer to him, her hips bumping his with a clumsy yearning.
Her fingers trail along his bare skin, leaving goosebumps in her wake, and making Levi's breathing hitch through his nose. Her nails that dig into his biceps make him want to do so much, to just take what he's been wanting for so long, but he refrains.
He would back her into something if he could, but there's nothing around but the horses and the shore. He moves to grip her arms in his hands, careful not to hurt her, but definitely conveying the level of self-control he's maintaining.
He breaks their kiss to breathe, resting his forehead to hers as he does.
Historia brushes her nose to his as their foreheads rest together, breaths coming ragged and fast between them.
"You're ... you're good at that," she pants, yearning for him to kiss her again already.
She doesn't let go of his arms, too scared that if she breaks contact with him, this glorious high will all come crashing down around them.
She should talk to him earnestly; tell him she's never been with a man before; tell him Ymir was the only person she ever knew as anything more than friends, and even that had just been careless teenage fun, at the time.
But how can she?
How can she say all this to Captain Levi Ackerman?
Who even knows what's going through his own mind right now? Perhaps he isn't even thinking about that. She shouldn't be, either, she realises; but the way he kissed her has awoken some sort of fire in her - the like of which she's never felt before, even with Ymir - and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
His face is red when she talks like that.
It's not even that it's provocative—he just feels odd about being praised for such a thing. He doesn't think that he's good at this because he doesn't even remember the last time he did this. He doesn't want to tell Historia, that, though—how mortifying would it be that he's over a decade her senior and less experienced than her?
"You are, too," he mumbles nervously, cringing inwardly at how lame he sounds.
She meets his gaze when he praises her too, drawing back so she can see him properly.
"Really? Uh ... right. Thank you."
She suspects her face may be completely crimson at this point. He's blushing, too.
Why is this so awkward and completely exciting at the same time?
She's not sure what she should say to him next, because as soon as she's not kissing him, it's Levi and despite how attracted she is to him right now, the whole situation does also seem absurd, so instead she wraps her arms around his neck and slams her lips back to his haphazardly.
Damn, he is good.
The way he moves his mouth against hers, the feel of his tongue tracing her lip, draws a little adrenaline-fuelled moan from her, and she's almost ashamed of herself.
He must have been with hundreds of women; it's the only explanation. He's Humanity's Strongest, and she realises now that it would make total sense that Levi should have women throwing themselves at him at every opportunity - despite his unapproachable countenance. Perhaps he just hides his escapades in the bedroom well.
Oh hell.
Her whole body grows hot at the thoughts racing through her mind; half with embarrassment at her own inexperience and half with overwhelming desire for him.
She's not sure why, but she begins to step back, dragging him along with her. There's so much pent up energy in her that she can't just stand there.
The force he meets her with is bruising, unforgiving with how fervently he wants her, and fuck, does he want her.
His hands roam up and down her arms and to her sides as she kisses him, dragging his tongue along her lower lip before seeking hers out. He doesn't know what to do next other than just act; thinking about what he thinks he should do only causes his stomach to flip anxiously.
And then she starts to move backward—and downward.
Thinking that she's trying to sit down, he lets her go, unwilling to sit down. But then he sees her expression and he realizes that he's fucked up.
Levi's hands are all over her; at her arms, at her sides, and his tongue is in her mouth now. And it all feels so wonderful.
That is; until Historia feels something snag at her left foot. She frowns, trying to break contact with Levi's mouth to look down, but he's too insistent and she's too malleable in his hands. She tries to right herself using her right foot, but that only tangles as well. Too late, she realises that Levi's cloak is no longer at her shoulders, and she's tipping backwards. Her balance goes, and she tries to reach out to Levi to steady herself - But he lets her go.
Just lets her go.
Again.
"Levi!" She yelps, before her back hits the sand with a thud.
She lies there, tangled up in his cloak, which is now coated with sand, and blinks up at him.
Levi stares at her, suddenly feeling so dumb.
"My cloak is sandy," he blurts out, but then he winces because that's not what he meant to say. He meant to ask if she's alright, if she needs help—but he had to say anything but that.
He looks down at her with a flushed face and guilty expression before sighing in defeat.
"Here." He holds out his hand to her in an offering to help her up.
Historia just stares at him as he makes a comment about his cloak - his damn cloak.
Not that fact that he's just let her fall unceremoniously onto her ass.
"Your cloak?" She asks in disbelief. When he offers her his hand, a thought flashes across her mind. "Thanks."
She grasps his fingers, then yanks hard on his hand.
If it were anyone else, he would pull back. He would yank them up to him.
But this is Historia.
Historia's soft, small hand is closed around his own, and she's pulling as if she has the strength to do so.
The thought makes him want to laugh, but instead, he humors her. He lets her pull him down, landing a little more gracefully than she did, a small smirk present as he does so.
She doesn't expect him to give so easily, but he folds himself into the sand next to her - ridiculously gracefully, too.
She shifts, making to pull his cloak from under her to hand to him.
He waves her offering of his cloak off.
"Keep it on. Can't have you getting sick on my watch," he remarks lightly.
He settles in, a respectful few inches from her, but still close enough to feel her body heat from their proximity.
She just gives him a look as she pulls it back up around her shoulders.
"Sorry for all the sand."
She'd nudge him playfully, but she's unsure of their boundaries right now what with the dramatic turn things have taken, so she settles for a smirk instead.
"You could have caught me. Just saying."
"I didn't know what you were doing," he retorts.
He takes the liberty of touching her first, nudging her gently with his elbow. "I also wasn't about to drop my ass on top of you. Then you'd have definitely gotten hurt because of me."
His gentle nudge sends a swarm of butterflies erupting in her stomach, and she raises a brow at his comment, but can't bring herself to look him in the eye.
"I ... uh, wouldn't have minded," she murmurs, a little shyly. "I'm sure you know all the right moves Levi."
Her eyes rise to his, and she remembers how she threw her towel off him. "Are you ... Uh, cold?" She lifts the edge of his cloak in offering as she trips over the words.
Oh yeah, smooth, Historia.
She wants to slap her hand to her forehead at her awkwardness.
His face flushes at her comment because he certainly doesn't know all the right moves.
He doesn't really know the wrong ones, either.
"Don't think too highly of me, brat," he returns quietly.
When she offers him his own cloak, he can't help but roll his eyes before he shuffles over. Her side is pressed to him, and to avoid awkwardly squeezing their arms together, he puts an arm around her waist to pull her closer.
"Thanks," he murmurs.
The way his arm just slips around her waist so nonchalantly makes her feel dizzy in the very best way. His skin is warm, despite being bare on the breezy beach for a little while.
His words make her let out a snort. "I'm just saying. You clearly know a lot more than I do."
She feels stupid admitting this aloud to him, repeatedly reminding herself who it actually is she's sat next to.
"I ..." she bites her lip, wondering whether what she's about to admit will send him running for his clothes and horse. "I've never actually been with a man, before."
She turns to look at him, and there's a small intake of breath as their close proximity again becomes apparent. Her gaze dips down from his eyes to his lips, and she recalls how wonderfully rough and soft at the same time they felt against her own. She prays that he won't reject her because of her honesty.
Her words make him stop short mentally.
I've never actually been with a man, before.
His hold on her tightens possessively, suddenly overcome with a wave of desire.
"I wouldn't have known," he comments. He pauses, eyes darting between her eyes and her lips as he hesitates to admit his own inexperience.
He decides to just be straightforward; when is he ever not?
"It's been a while since I've...been with anyone at all," he confesses, turning his gaze back to the shore. The water comes and goes on the sand, kissing the shore gently with each push and pull.
"Huh ... like a few months, you mean?" She asks.
She knows full well Levi's not the type to go around shouting about anything personal, so she expects she would never have known if he had any personal relationships going on or not. Even the highest ranking soldiers got down time, though, and she can't imagine him being short of admirers. Especially after that performance.
"And um ... thanks?" She shifts against him, feeling a sudden need to justify herself a little. "I mean, I'm not saying I've never kissed anyone."
Levi snorts at her guess. "Try years," he chuckles hollowly. "I'm not exactly popular with anyone, you know."
His thumb traces a circle into her side thoughtfully. "I didn't think that you'd never kissed anyone before, but I'm just surprised you hadn't been with a man before. You're not only the Queen—you're beautiful. You always have been."
He feels awkward as he tries to explain himself without accidentally saying something stupid.
Historia's brows raise at his confession, before she feels her cheeks heat up at his words about her. Her gaze falls to her hands as they twist self consciously in her lap.
He thinks she's beautiful.
Captain Levi Ackerman thinks she's beautiful.
Well, that is not a fact she thought she'd be faced with when she awoke this morning.
"Oh - no, I mean; thank you. That's nice of you to say. And it's just ... well ..." she bites her lip, wondering whether he has any idea about her and Ymir. Her heart aches a little when she thinks of her best friend. Historia has never really thought of herself as being only interested in women; she just hasn't come across any man that makes her feel like Ymir had. "I suppose I haven't found the right man yet."
Her eyes rise slowly to meet his, and she holds his gaze, unwavering. She feels her breathing quicken a little. The moment feels heavy with a static tension she can't fathom; she wants to kiss him again, but for some reason, the boldness she'd found before has left her as they sit together, huddled beneath his cloak, his hand firmly at her waist.
"Why has it been so long for you?" She blurts, then immediately wants the ground to swallow her.
"It's not nice—it's just honest." He shrugs nonchalantly, despite the way his stomach is somersaulting.
When she looks at him, he can feel the tension become palpable between them. He wants to close the distance but he holds back, not feeling like the conversation is over just yet.
Sure enough, she asks another question.
He swallows as he contemplates how to explain. There certainly have been times that he's wanted to—a pair of amber eyes and a kind smile flash in his mind—but he knows that he can't become too attached to anyone. People die when he becomes attached.
"Because I can't afford to continue to lose people," he admits quietly, holding her gaze evenly with stormy eyes.
Levi's words, coupled with those tempestuous eyes, strike a chord in Historia's heart.
She might not have lived through what he has, but she certainly understands how it feels to lose those closest to you. She thinks of Ymir's freckled features again. Heck, she would have a field day if she could see Historia now, wrapped up on the beach with the Captain.
Not wanting him to feel that she's uncomfortable with him, she shuffles a little closer, so that her hip is pressed tightly to his.
"I understand. I understand ... exactly. Have you lost anyone ... like that?"
The memory of Ymir has made her brave again; a reminder of how fleeting time can be with another person, no matter how much you want it to go on infinitely. She won't waste this little gift of time she's been granted with him.
Levi clenches his jaw.
"Yes." He sighs, adjusting his hand on her side.
He knows that she'll ask, so he just decides to tell her.
His heart twists in his chest as he recalls the long since passed scout that confessed her feelings in his office. He knows that Historia came into the Scouts just before the 57th expedition, but he still isn't sure of what she remembers and who she knew.
"Did you know Petra Ral?"
"Petra ... Ral?" Historia tries to recall the name. "I'm not sure ... no, wait; she was a member of your Special Operations Squad wasn't she? Before Eren, Mikasa and ..." she trails off, recalling exactly why Levi's squad had been replaced. "Oh."
She's unsure what to say to him then. So she settles with being honest.
"I remember her, yeah. We never got to talk, though. I heard she was an excellent soldier ..." For some reason, she feels her gut twist with nerves as she asks him, "Were you two ...?"
The idea of Captain Levi being anything other than professional with one of his subordinates seems absurd to her, so much so that she can't even finish the sentence.
"We weren't. We..." he trails off, glancing past Historia before meeting her gaze again, his face hot as he tries to think of how to explain what he and Petra were.
Or rather, what they wanted to be.
"She wanted us to. She kissed me in my office the night before an expedition, and that's the furthest I let it go. I couldn't jeopardize our squad, so—even though I, I wanted to—I knew we couldn't. So I lied and told her that I didn't want to."
Historia feels like her mouth must be hanging wide open by the time Levi finishes his explanation.
"You ... you kissed her?"
For some reason, this knowledge kindles a fire in her belly, making her want to clutch him to her possessively and claim his lips again. It was easier to think of him with faceless lovers; people she'd never met. But she'd known Petra ... if only from a distance.
Before she can act on her sudden flare of possessiveness though, a sickening thought begins to twist her gut, dampening the flame.
"You said ... before an expedition? Which one?"
She's pretty sure she already knows before he speaks, and her heart is breaking for him.
"She kissed me. I never made the move."
He recalls the low candlelight of his office, how she looked so nervous yet determined as she found him still up in his civilian clothes, doing paperwork. Her face was bright red but her hands weren't shaking when she told him she wanted to be with him, and when he just stared at her, dumbfounded, she'd kissed him.
"She thought it would be a good idea to tell me that she held feelings for me for a long time. I...I always admired her, but I knew she could do better. She deserved better. Even so, I was her superior. It wasn't appropriate for me to abuse that, knowing how she felt."
His heart aches when he remembers her, but it's not nearly as raw as it was those years ago. He turns his head to look out at the water. She would have loved the ocean.
"She kissed me. I told her I wasn't interested, that I had no feelings. I lied to her face."
Her lips were soft, swollen from how much she chewed on them anxiously, but he can't remember the taste anymore.
"It was the night before the 57th."
The flint eyes across from her are different now.
She's never seen Levi so raw, so exposed as he appears in this moment. She can't take her eyes off him as he speaks, and she's desperate; so desperate to reach out and touch him, to try and comfort him, or distract him from his painful memories, but she won't disrespect Petra's memory like that right now. So she listens.
When he finishes, it's all she can do to hold back the moisture that's threatening to spill at the corners of her eyes. Tears for the girl he lost too soon, and the girl she has lost, too. Her eyes fall to her lap as she wills them to stay dry.
"You're wrong," she murmurs after a minute of silence passes. "About her deserving better."
She looks back up to meet his gaze, her features suddenly set with a fiery determination.
How can she make him realise his own worth?
"I would have been lost without you these past years. I certainly wouldn't have the Orphanage; you've made such a difference to so many people's lives. You're a good man, Levi. One of the best. Petra clearly saw that, and ... and I do, too."
His eyes flick back to hers, more round than before as he takes in her fierce, determined gaze. There's fire there, white-hot and unrelenting.
His heart races.
"What else do you see?"
The question leaves his lips before he knows what he's saying. He wants to know that he's not crazy, that he's not alone in wanting this. He's wanted her for far too long, yearning for her from afar, too respectful and fearful to say anything lest he ruin the odd friendship they have.
And yet, now that he's faced with this opportunity once again but with Historia, he doesn't want to regret the decision he makes this time.
His question surprises her, but her hesitation lasts all of a split second.
"I ... I see a man who's unafraid of anything except regret."
As the words leave her mouth, Historia's unsure whether they're quite the right thing to say. Feeling that earlier boldness return at the way he's laid so candid before her, she reaches out. Her hand cups his cheek, and she feels her fingers tremble a little, but she continues.
"I see compassion, and courage, and integrity. I see a Captain I would have followed into the fiercest fight without hesitation, and a Captain who has given up his time and patience for a silly, young Queen in need of guidance. I see a man who I would trust with my life; my innocence and my reputation. I see a man, Levi. A man I want to-"
But she doesn't finish her sentence, because her lips are against his again, eager and messy with her kiss. She clutches at his face with both hands as she presses herself closer to him, and it's heavenly. Their closeness still isn't enough though; she yearns for more, and more, and ... she breaks away from his lips for a moment, chest heaving as she pants for breath, her rapid words and desperate kisses taking up too much of her air.
He leans into her touch, his bangs hitting her fingers. Warmth blooms in his chest at her words, unsure if he can truly believe all of what she's saying, but then she goes on about the faith she puts in him.
His heart fucking soars at her praise. He wants more, but he doesn't want to talk. He wants to bury his regrets with the ghosts of his past.
He almost tells her that he wants to be all of those things for her and more, but he lets her kiss him instead. Her lips on his are tender despite the urgency that's there, reining him in.
She's gone all too suddenly, and he chases her, pressing his lips to hers again desperately as he pulls her easily into his lap, eager to feel her warmth on his skin.
Historia lets Levi pull her onto his lap, heart hammering in her chest as he continues their kiss almost greedily. She can't help her nails digging into his skin a little as she grabs his neck for purchase, and she tilts her head to allow herself to deepen their kiss further. Sand shifts as she adjusts herself in his lap, hands slipping from his neck to his chest. She's no idea what she's doing here, but the position she shifts herself into - straddling his lap - makes her suddenly very aware of ... that.
"Oh."
It's a small sound of surprise, but she can't help it passing from her lips mid-kiss. She breaks their contact again to whisper against his mouth. "Sorry ... I just ... you're ..."
She doesn't know what to say, having never been in this situation. What she wants to comment on is how incredibly firm he feels beneath her, through her underwear, and she almost wonders if she actually did that to him.
The reality of their situation, of her complete lack of experience, sets in as she gets flustered the moment her body brushes against his groin. He's not completely hard, but he's halfway there, and she's already caught off guard. He briefly wonders how far they'll get.
"Don't be sorry," he murmurs against her lips as he kisses her slower this time, patiently.
His hands work off his cloak from her, wanting to only feel her on him without getting tangled in the old material. His touch explores her sides and back, inching under her brassiere.
Historia's blood is roaring in her ears, and with it is the screaming thought that she's in wildly unknown territory here with Levi.
The way his kiss turns gentle goes some way to reassuring her, but still she feels herself tense beneath his touch. His breath hot on her lips awakens trepidation in her, and she's suddenly very aware of where this is all leading. It's not that she doesn't want to; but she feels as though it's not something that should be rushed into with careless abandon.
She feels his cloak slip from her shoulders, and her pulse quickens. His hands feel white hot against her skin as he explores the contours of her body. Then they're beneath her brasserie. She inhales sharply through her nose, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she kisses him. The sensation of his fingers as they stroke across her skin has her nerves fizzling.
His hands are on her back, underneath her brassiere, and he can feel the muscles beneath his fingertips tense. He hopes that it's because of the way his calluses scrape her skin.
He moves his mouth from hers to kiss to her jaw, and then to her neck. As his lips and tongue trace underneath her jawline, he carefully inches his hands toward her front, moving slowly enough so that she can stop him if she's not comfortable.
How can one person feel so absolutely euphoric but completely on edge at the same time?
When his lips move downwards, scattering small kisses against her jaw, and then her neck, she revels in the sensation, keeping her eyes squeezed shut so that she can focus on the contact of his body to hers. Her forearms are resting against his shoulders; her fingertips grazing against the fuzz of his undercut as she leans her head aside, allowing him better access to the sweet spot his lips have found on her neck. She feels her breath coming ragged and fast as her body begins to comply with his advances, and she knows from her own experimentations that the place between her legs is becoming increasingly wet.
And then she's aware of his hands roaming around to her front.
She gasps when she feels a rough thumb brush against the underside of her breast, and her eyes are open now as she stares at him. She can see his hands rising and falling with her erratic breathing, but she doesn't want to stop him. Not yet.
Historia pulls away a little and he lets her, not stopping the movement of his hands. He searches her expression for any signs he should stop—regret, fear, rejection—but he sees none.
Her pupils are blown, her lips are swollen, but he sees no indication that she doesn't want this.
Still, he asks.
"Is this okay?"
His voice is breathy and his heart is racing, but his hands finally reach her front, and he inches upward. He hesitates just at the bottom of her breasts, giving her a chance to opt out if she wants to.
Historia continues to stare at him for a moment, desperately searching for her words, her whole being painfully fixated on the position of his hands.
But she wants him to touch her. She wants to feel his sandpaper fingers against the snowy skin of her breasts.
Hands fall back from around his neck, and she trails her touch downwards, ghosting across the bare, pale skin of Levi's chest, and then sideways to the crook of his elbows, and slowly, ever so slowly up his solid forearms until she reaches his hands resting against her ribs.
Finally, Historia brings herself to speak.
She wets her lips. "Yes."
It's little more than a breathy puff of air, but she reinforces the word by guiding his hands upwards, further beneath her brassiere.
Her hands over his skin are hot, leaving a fire in her wake as her fingers trace down his arms to his hands.
He doesn't verbally respond to her affirmation. Instead, at her breathy yes, he comes alive.
He cranes his neck to continue kissing her neck, finding that same sensitive spot from before easily. His hands move over her breasts, squeezing and massaging the supple skin, instinctively bucking his hips to meet hers at the contact. He wants more—he just wants her, but he settles for touching her and tasting the salt from the ocean on her skin and feeling the heat from her body warm him against the sea breeze.
When he touches her, its like flying through the air on ODMG for the first time.
Her stomach flips as though she's in that moment just before free-fall.
His fingers knead her, firm yet still careful, and his lips continue to explore her neck and collarbone. She grips his forearms, knuckles white, as he works his hands on her, and her head tips back further, overcome with the ecstasy of it all.
"Oh ..."
It's a small whimper that tumbles from her lips, but it seems to ignite something in him, because the next moment, she feels him buck. She gasps again, almost losing her balance, and her eyes are wide as she feels him hard beneath her.
"Uh ... Levi ..." She pulls his head back up from where he's nipping at her neck, and presses her forehead to his for a moment. "Do you ... are you expecting us to ...?" She's breathless, and, along with nerves, it makes her voice come out hoarse.
"No," he murmurs, voice soft as he looks at her. This close, he can smell the ocean on her, accompanying the taste as he licks his lips. "We can go as far as you want. I—" he hesitates, unsure if he should bare this part of him, but his hands are on her breasts and she's very aware of his erection against her, so why not? "I want you, but I can wait. If you want to, or don't want to, I still care about you. I won't go anywhere."
His heart is fucking somersaulting, but he doesn't care, because he has Historia in his hands and nothing else matters at the moment.
"You ... you care about ... me?"
Of course he cares. He's been her Captain, her close partner when they worked on the Orphanage together, and she supposes she could even call him her friend, in an odd sort of way.
But she's sure he doesn't mean it in any of those terms.
She feels a beautiful relief bloom in her chest, and she brings her lips to his; her kiss indulgent and slow. Her hands brush up his arms.
He won't go anywhere.
What does that mean?
She breaks away to look him in the eyes again. An overwhelming need to reassure him of her intentions grips her.
"I'm just ... a little nervous. It wasn't my intention to lead you on. I do want to, I just -"
"Historia."
He shushes her with a gentle kiss, indulgent and tender. He tries to convey the affection he's carried for her through their kiss, moving his hands so that they're just on her ribs and sides, eventually settling on the curve of her waist. His touch is light, his kiss tender, ignoring the fire of desire he feels burning within.
"It's okay. I promise."
He's so patient with her, it makes her practically melt against him.
She wraps her arms around his middle as he kisses her, and she marvels at the idea that her first time could be with him, if she wants it. His words make her spine tingle.
"Thank you, Levi. I'm ... grateful."
Her head rests against his shoulder, and she curls herself against him as the breeze bites at her shoulders. It's hard to imagine how on earth they've come to be in this position; Captain and Queen wrapped up in one another upon the sand. But she realises that, for the first time in such a long, long time, she feels genuine happiness.
"I could stay here like this forever," she murmurs against his skin. "I wish we could."
She looks back up at him, and she knows her eyes must surely be filled with the affection she feels for him. Affection which she hadn't even recognised until they'd set foot upon this deserted beach together.
Her arms around him make him pull her in closer; he'd be content to keep her against him, held in his embrace.
Fuck.
He's thinking about just cuddling her, and his heart is hammering.
"As long as you look at me the way you are now, then I'll be okay with that," he remarks lightly, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks up at her with wide eyes lit up with affection.
Her heart flutters at his words.
"Well, apparently I've been looking at you like this for a while; I just didn't realise it until we got here." She shifts against him so that she can gaze across the infinite blue of the ocean; head tucked beneath his chin. "I never in a million years imagined the sentiment would be returned, though. But ... you talk like you've thought about ... this ... for a while." Her fingers move to stroke lazy circles against his biceps. "Have you?"
Her gut tightens in expectation of his answer. She's not sure why he has this effect on her - as though she's so desperate for his approval, all of a sudden.
Levi lets her adjust, content to feel her tucked up against him. Her heartbeat almost feels in sync with his, her fingers tracing into his skin calming his racing heart.
Her words make his stomach flip and then flutter all at once. And then he realizes that he has to answer her.
"Since we set up the orphanage," he admits quietly. He shifts his arms to wrap around her properly. "I didn't realize it right away. But then I started to notice that as we spent more time together ... I understood what I was feeling."
It's not eloquent or necessarily romantic, but it's honest, and that's what he can offer in this vulnerable moment.
"Hmm ..."
Since they set up the Orphanage ... That's years ago, now.
He's thought about her ... about putting his arms around her, his lips to hers, for literal years ...?
She's speechless for several long moments.
How has she not known? Not even had an inkling?
She didn't even realise what the odd, anxious quiver he gave her in her belly had been until today, when he'd touched her in the water.
"Levi ..." She twists her head so she can look at him again. "Why didn't you say anything? I honestly had no idea ... you're always so quiet and moody." Her eyes widen as she realises what she's said. "Uh, no. I didn't mean that."
She's quiet for a long time.
His heart is thundering, but he keeps his expression cool even when she turns to look at him.
Her question doesn't catch him off guard; he expects it, given the nature of his answer. He wishes he had more reasons why, but ultimately, it comes down to one: he's afraid of regret.
"I'm almost twice your age," he begins, holding her gaze. "I've been your superior. I had a hand in forcing you into your role now. I..." he hesitates, collecting his trailing thoughts from all the reasons why he thinks he doesn''t deserve the literal Queen in his arms. "...you deserve better than what I can offer you."
His face, which moments ago had been the picture of coolness, is suddenly so earnest as he meets her gaze.
She listens to the words, and it feels as though a little piece of his soul has just leaked from him, laid exposed for her; a great, delicate thing that she has in her hands - it feels easily shattered, and she doesn't want that to happen.
How amazing that the stoic, closed Captain could become this man before her - with an expression so genuine. As she looks at him, her eyes fixed to his, breaths coming fast through slightly parted lips, she tries to fathom how she should answer his honesty. She notices for the first time that his eyes aren't just a cool slate grey. There are flecks of azure in them - the same colour as her own.
She concludes that the only way to answer his honesty, is with her own.
"I didn't realise what the feeling meant until we were in the water today. But I've had this feeling around you since the Orphanage, too. A fluttering in my tummy every time you look my way; your eyes meet mine. I search you out automatically when we're both attending events or meetings - I can't help it. I feel drawn to you. And to answer your reservations ..." She reaches for one of his rough hands, a thumb running over his knuckles gently. "Whilst everything you mentioned is true; the age difference, our positions, our pasts ... none of it has any influence at all on the way I feel. I just ... I just want you. If you can; if you want to offer me that, in any way, shape or form, then that is more than enough, and more than I could ever hope to deserve."
Her words make the coil in him begin to unwind, undoing the tension he's been carrying when he's around her.
He lets her take one hand, her dainty thumb running over his knuckles, scarred with telltale signs of his rough upbringing.
"I do want to offer it to you—I just—" he turns his hand over in hers, exposing his palm to her, "—I think you should want better for yourself."
He doesn't explicitly list out more reasons; she was a Scout, so she knows the daily risks of being in service, she knows how his lineage puts certain people on edge around him, and how his reputation above and underground precedes him.
His continued reluctance sparks that boldness in her again.
"Well ... good job it's not up to you then, isn't it? And I want you."
As if to cement her words, she grabs him by the neck, suddenly a little more confident now he's backed her into it. She kisses him insistently, wanting him to understand that she really is serious about this.
Finally, she draws back and fixes him with her gaze.
"I don't suppose you brought anything along to eat? It's a long ride back."
She waits patiently for him to answer, so she can offer him the fruit and rolls she brought for them.
Levi snorts at her words, only to be silenced by her kiss, a newfound urgency there. He tightens his hold with her lips slotted against his, her tongue sweet on his lips.
She pulls away all too soon, and he conveys this with a small groan of complaint.
"I ... I didnt," he admits sheepishly. He hadn't thought ahead, only eager to have gotten the ride over with given that he didn't anticipate the day turning out like this.
She just smiles at him knowingly.
"Didn't think you would." She gets up from him, pulling his cloak up around her shoulders again. "You men either think only of your stomachs, or of anything but."
She's rarely even seen Levi stop to eat before - she's wondered in the past whether the man survives only on tea. She strolls over to her horse, reaching into the saddlebag and producing the pieces of fruit and bread.
"I brought enough for two." She tosses a roll over to him, before holding up the fruit. "Apple or pear?"
If someone would have told her during this morning's meeting, that in a few hours time she'd be standing in her underwear beside the ocean, with Levi's cloak draped over her shoulders, as she offers him fruit, hair mussed and lips bruised from his kisses, she'd have scoffed in their face.
He stares at her shamelessly as she walks toward the horse, rummaging through her saddlebag for food. His stomach growls as she produces the fruit and bread, catching the roll easily when it's tossed to him. His eyes flick between the fruit, more focused on the slender fingers that are curled around them instead, wishing they were back on him.
His mind wanders dangerously as he answers mindlessly, "Apple."
She notices the way his eyes linger on the curve of her fingers around the fruit, and she bites her lip, fully aware of where his mind is, and unable to stop hers wandering along the same path.
Instead of tossing the apple, she saunters over to him, her eyes glued to his as she comes to stand above him. There's a moment's hesitation, before she sinks down beside him; close enough for her bare thigh to brush against his, but she's not quite bold enough to sit herself straight in his lap.
She lifts the apple up slowly, pressing it to his lips.
The way she walks over, Levi wouldn't guess that she's only 19.
He sees a woman, full of confidence, boldly strutting over to literally tempt him - a man twice her age, only a little more experienced than her, and he's literally eating out of the palm of her hand as he leans forward to bite the apple, the juice trickling down the corner of his mouth.
Historia inhales quickly at the sight of his teeth sinking into the skin, and then flesh, of the apple. A little of the acrid juice spills from the corner of his mouth. She lifts a thumb, cautiously, and wipes the liquid away, before placing it between her lips, her eyes trained on Levi's.
Really, she's no idea what she's doing, but he just ignites this daring flame within her.
She removes her thumb after a weighted moment, and takes a bite out of her own pear, unable to disguise a broad smile at the way Levi's looking at her now. Her cheeks feel hot, but she can't help but feel a little pleased with herself.
He watches her put her thumb between her lips, then take a bite of her own pear. He's unmoving as he stares, pupils blown and jaw clenched with fresh tension as he reins in this crazy bout of desire that rushes through him. His blood feels white-hot as is races through his veins, igniting a fire within him that he struggled to quell just moments ago.
"Historia," he chastises breathily, reaching out to take the apple from her carefully, unable to ignore how heat pools in his abdomen when their hands touch.
She lets him take the fruit from her, and her eyes dip to his lips.
"Sorry. I ..." want you so bad but at the same time I'm absolutely terrified.
That's what she wants to say.
Instead, she murmurs, "you make me feel bold."
She knows they should just eat and get moving. It will be dark before long. She knows they should. So why is she still staring at his lips?
"Mm."
He hums in acknowledgement, watching her eyes shift to his lips before back to his gaze. He's seen the growth in her, how bold she's become, brave and unwilling to back down from him. She's the only one who's stood up to him so relentlessly.
"I seem to bring that out in you," he remarks quietly, gaze drifting between hers and her lips again.
She inhales sharply at the way he just rises to the claim - claiming himself as the reason for her bravery, agreeing with her earlier statement.
"I think perhaps you make a lot of people brave, but not this sort of brave ..."
The hand clutching her pear lowers as she leans into him, stealing his lips again. He tastes sweet from the apple, and she feels as though she wants to sink her teeth into him in the way she'd take a bite out of the ripe fruit.
He smirks a little against her lips, humming contently as he tastes the fruit from her as well.
Walls, he could sit here all day just kissing her lazily and holding her close if she'd let him. Maybe if he gets a day off-duty...
"I suppose you're right," he murmurs as she pulls away.
She smiles to herself as she pulls back from him, bringing the pear back up to take another bite.
"I suppose we should think about getting dressed and heading back after we've eaten ..." she glances back at him quickly. "Not that I want to. It's just ..."
People might get suspicious. And they both have duties which they can't run away from forever.
Levi nods in understanding, despite how much he'd love to stay away from his responsibilities, his name, his title, for just a day. He already got spoiled with this afternoon out here with Historia so suddenly.
"Yeah. It's a ways back, and it'll be dark by the time we're back. We shouldn't spend too much more time," he agrees, now thinking of the security risks of riding alone in the dark. He frowns at the thought, wondering if they should've left sooner.
She sighs, finishing up her fruit and bread as they simply regard one another in silence. They dress in silence, too, and Historia feels a growing awareness of that unspoken question between them: what now?
She picks up Levi's cloak and flicks it, sending little sand particles scattering on the breeze. She folds it carefully, before turning and offering it to him.
"Thank you," she says quietly.
It's starting to ache, the idea of leaving this moment behind on the beach, as they make for home.
Of the countless times for his words to fail to come to him, it happens now.
He knows that Historia says she wants this, that she wants him, but would that change once they return to their roles within the Walls?
The thought makes his stomach flip unpleasantly.
"Of course," he dismisses her thanks with a quick wave of his hand before throwing it over his own shoulders, enveloped in the warmth, some of it remnants of Historia's from wearing it.
Historia nods as he takes it from her. She turns back to her horse, preparing the reins and saddle to leave. She needs a leg up - she turns back to the Captain, about to ask, but then she hesitates, and decides to ask a different question.
"Levi ... when we return ... can we still ...?" She trips over the words, unsure how to phrase exactly what she wants to say. "My feelings won't change," she finally settles on.
Levi's taken aback, not expecting her to address the topic before they even leave. He's thankful she did, though, because now he gets to step closer to her until he's within arms reach. He reaches up to brush away loose strands of hair, eyes roaming over her face.
"I'll still be here for you," he murmurs as his gaze lands on hers.
She smiles with relief at that.
That's all she needs to know.
She wordlessly gestures for him to help her into the saddle, and then the pair set off.
Back towards Mitras. Back towards their roles of Queen and Captain. And back towards reality. Only for now, she hopes ... She'd like to escape like this again soon.
The ride back passes with little chatter, although Historia can't help stealing glances at Levi constantly as he rides; suddenly appreciating every last detail of the elegant way his body moves atop the horse and the power he clearly possesses, the muscles of his legs and arms working perfectly in sync to guide his mount.
When they arrive back at the Capital, Historia feels Levi's demeanour change, just as her own does, and their professional masks slip back over their features. She bids him farewell; stiff, formal ... but she prays he can see the appreciation she tries to convey through her eyes for the perfect afternoon they've shared together.
When she's alone in her quarters, the mask falls away, and she finds herself giggling like a little fool as she draws herself a bath, and remembers the feel of Levi's hands upon her, and his low voice against her ear; tone so different to his usual stoicism. When she finally clambers into bed, her thoughts turn briefly to the meeting she's due to attend in the morning to discuss final arrangements for the Railroad Banquet at Trost. She hadn't been looking forward to it, as it would just go as all the others had so far, with any input from her dismissively brushed aside by Zackley and the Paradis Government, but tonight a realisation makes her spirits lift a little.
Levi will be there.
She grins to herself as she pulls her covers up to her chin, and as sleep finally claims her, she finds herself slipping into pleasant dreams of the Captain's warm embrace upon the breezy ocean shore.