Winter was at the doorstep, but it wasn't snowing yet. In fact, the weather had turned to rain and remained that way for a long, humid week. It had caused floods in several areas, which in turn had increased Levi's workload.

Levi's job wasn't usually that intense at this time of year. He would spend most of late Autumn filling in claims pertaining to fires or carbon monoxide poisoning. People were always eager to light the first fire of the year, but they often forgot to check that their chimney pipes weren't clogged up. Or they forgot that they'd never had them cleaned during the summer.

It didn't matter to Levi if this year's thing was fires or floods, or that he was drowning in paperwork. He welcomed the distraction.

Even with the increased amount of reports to handle, each day came and went without surprise. Levi woke up, went to work, and returned home. He went for a run in the evenings, aside from the week of torrential downpour.

Levi didn't particularly like running – he only did it in the hopes it'd help him sleep better – but after a week without, he was feeling unusually restless. Which was fucking stupid, because running didn't seem to help much anymore in general. No matter how long, how fast he ran, no matter how exhausted he felt when coming back home, he couldn't fall asleep before morning. And that was when he could sleep at all.

The problem was that, while his job was as mind-numbing as it could get, it didn't tire his body, whereas running lowered his energy levels, but left his mind free to wander unfettered. Neither helped his fucked up sleeping schedule.

These days, his mind was busy thinking about green eyes gleaming with unrestrained affection. He thought about sharp features rendered soft with patience and devotion – things that were never directed at him before. He daydreamed about lips, trembling with something like want, that knew to draw back when they sensed hesitation.

Nobody had ever treated him with such care. It was new, destabilizing. Flattering, too, to be able to put a look like that in Eren's eyes. Levi couldn't stop thinking about him, no matter how hard he tried not to. No amount of running could change that.

Letting Eren kiss him had been a mistake. But Levi didn't let himself regret it. He'd messed up. He'd have to live with the consequences. It was wrong to give Eren any hope.

Giving hope to himself wasn't much better.

He knew they'd have to talk, but he didn't know to speak to Eren about it. So, until he figured out exactly what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it, he didn't try to contact him. He wasn't trying to ignore the problem – he'd be doing a poor job of it, anyway, as he couldn't stop thinking about him. He only needed some time.

Incidentally, Eren wasn't texting him either. Even after two weeks of silence, Levi wasn't worried; he knew Eren's exams were starting soon. It was better for Eren to focus on them. They could talk about it all later.

On a cold Friday night, the week before the Christmas holidays, Levi was watching Netflix on his laptop – an old, humorous wartime movie that his mother had loved. He'd seen it a hundred times at least, perfect background entertainment that he didn't need to focus on. Images and dialog came and went, processed with the force of habit and soon forgotten, barely registered. Familiarity brought a peculiar form of comfort, and Levi wasn't picky, especially not these days.

It was late, almost midnight. He'd declined Gisele's invitation to an after work drink because he was tired, but even now, watching the familiar, soothing movie, he couldn't fall asleep.

The soundtrack was swelling as an emotional scene unraveled on the screen, which was probably why he didn't notice his phone going off at first. It was still ringing when the music quieted, and he finally noticed, heart jumping in his chest. He almost fell off the old couch in his rush to grab his messenger bag. He'd been leaving his phone in there lately since he didn't use it to text Eren anymore. It was better than having the thing under his nose at all times, goading him into checking for new messages.

He was fishing his phone from the confines of his small bag when it stopped ringing. Levi looked at the screen. Just as he'd thought, the call had been from Eren. There wasn't really anyone else who would ever get in touch with him.

He stood there for a bit, then took his phone with him as he sat back down in front of his laptop.

After a few minutes, it became clear Eren wasn't going to call again. Levi wondered if he should be the one calling back, though he didn't really want to, not yet. He still didn't know how to handle the inevitable conversation with Eren. Why had Eren called in the first place, anyway? He hadn't even left anything on voicemail. He felt like he was being tested, by Eren or even some sort of fate, and whether he called back would potentially turn his whole life around.

Levi snorted, thumb hovering over the call button. He didn't believe in fate and doubted it was in Eren's nature to test people like that. He was too honest, not manipulative in the slightest.

He had to decide. It felt to Levi that, with each second ticking away, his thumb was getting closer to his phone's call button, while Eren was getting further and further away. Maybe that was what Levi wanted. Maybe it wasn't. Or maybe they didn't need to talk right now. Maybe he could call Eren and just listen to the sound of his voice. But no, Eren wouldn't let him. Eren would want answers.

And yet, Levi was wondering if Eren wouldn't let him get away with it, in the end.

He startled when his phone went off again, hitting the reply button by accident. He didn't have time to plan; he had no idea what he was going to say. Seconds were trickling down on his phone screen.

"Levi?"

Eren's voice sounded thin in the tiny speaker.

Levi brought his phone to his ear.

"Yes."

He hoped his voice didn't convey how unprepared he was for all this, how uncertain he felt.

There was a sigh and then, a long pause. Eren remained silent for so long that Levi double-checked his screen, almost sure he'd hung up. Just as he was about to speak up, he heard Eren take a deep, shaky breath. For the first time, Levi didn't wonder whether Eren was angry or not. Instead, he wondered if Eren was all right.

"I," Eren said, stopping before even forming a proper sentence, but even with a single syllable, Levi could tell something was wrong.

"Can we meet?" Eren said after a while, sounding a little breathless.

Levi let a few seconds pass before answering.

"Now?" he said, knowing Eren wouldn't be calling him at midnight if he wanted to meet next Thursday.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

"Yes. Please."

Throat tight, Levi breathed in.

"Okay."

It's okay, Levi told himself on the way to the cemetery. He told himself everything would be fine, that Eren simply wanted to know where they stood. Even if he was forced to make a decision tonight, it would be okay. All he had to do was properly reject Eren. Levi didn't want to hurt him – if it wasn't already too late – but he knew that Eren would be okay, eventually. Even if Levi's rejection made him unhappy at first. Even throughout the anxiety the upcoming discussion caused him, Levi felt strangely numb about it. It had to be done.

When he arrived at their meeting point, Eren was already there. He was sitting on a bench, facing away from the nearby wall with his back slightly hunched, as if burdened by its presence. He was staring at the pavement, eyes hazy.

Sitting on that bench in the middle of the night with the cemetery wall looming behind him, Eren looked lost.

Levi slowed down as he reached the bench. When Eren didn't seem to notice him there, he stood right in front of him until Eren raised his head.

He wore a complex expression that Levi couldn't decipher. A deep frown adorned his youthful face, making him look older, lips pressed into a tense line with something that could be anxiety or anger. His eyelids were puffy. Levi couldn't see if they were red in the faint light from the nearby streetlamp, but Eren looked like he'd been crying. There was a couple of large bandaids on the left side of his face. He wasn't wearing gloves, and Levi could see he'd cut his hands in several places as well. He looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

"What the hell happened to you?" Levi asked before he could stop himself.

Eren greeted Levi with a hopeful but sad look in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but closed it before speaking.

They stared at each other.

Levi waited. But Eren remained silent and just stared at him. Despite the unhappy look on his face, he seemed content to drink Levi in without a word.

"Levi," Eren said, voice cracking on the second syllable.

Levi wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't trust himself to talk. His throat had suddenly gone tight. He wished for the earlier numbness to come back.

Eren's fragile composure seemed to waver more and more with each passing second.

Things went on like that for a while, Eren watching and Levi waiting, both silent. After a moment, Eren moved, hiding his mouth behind a closed fist and looking away.

Levi's eyes, which had been watching Eren's hands, followed their motion until he was looking at Eren's face. Eren was smiling, he realized, or at least, his mouth was. It was a poor excuse of a smile, tiny and weak. His lips were trembling, and his eyes were brimming with unspilled tears.

"I'm sorry," Eren said in a shaky voice.

He was shivering all over. Levi had no idea what Eren was apologizing about or why he was shaking. He couldn't do much about frayed nerves, but it was too cold to be sitting on a bench in the middle of the night.

He stepped towards Eren and gently grasped his shoulder. Eren looked up at him, the sheer hope in his eyes almost unbearable. He looked so vulnerable like that.

The drive to protect, to shield from harm rose from the depths of Levi's heart, rooted in fragments of memories long suppressed, strong and devastating like a tidal wave. It was then that Levi knew. He knew, knew for certain and without any doubt that he couldn't let go just yet. He couldn't possibly live his life with Eren out of the picture for good. More than anything, he had to do right by Eren. He wasn't even sure he knew how to do that, where Eren was concerned.

As long as Eren wanted him around, anyway. He didn't know how long that would last.

But for now, he needed to get Eren to a warm place.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you home."

Levi led Eren through the dark streets until they reached his building. Eren kept touching him. A subtle touch on his shoulder, an inconspicuous hand at his elbow. When Eren took Levi's hand in his own, intertwined their fingers and held tight, Levi let him. He glanced up. Eren's gaze was intent on the ground. It was unlike him to act this subdued.

Gentle, he told himself, wondering if he was capable of that, and held onto Eren's hand.

Eren's apartment was even smaller than Levi's – it was really a single room. The walls were decrepit, as was the ceiling, with plaster apparent in several places. The linoleum floor was battered, crumbly at the corners near the doorstep and around the small kitchen area. The ratty couch had seen better days, and whatever plumbing was visible looked ancient.

Despite the wear and tear, it was obviously well cared for. The bed in the far corner was made, with clean sheets. There were no dishes in the sink aside from a single glass drying on the nearby rack. There was a wrinkled shirt hanging on the back of the room's sole chair, the only visible piece of dirty laundry. The apartment looked lived in, but not messy.

Levi turned towards Eren. In the yellow light of the overhead lamp, he could see how tired Eren was. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Do you have any tea in this dump?" he asked.

Eren's mouth tightened, and he nodded. He didn't look like he wanted to talk yet.

"Okay," Levi said, taking his coat off and hanging it over the lone shirt on the chair.

Levi busied himself in Eren's small kitchenette. There were only a couple of cupboards, and it was easy to find a box of teabags and an electric kettle.

Behind him, the apartment was silent. Levi didn't need to turn around to know that Eren was standing in the middle of the room.

"Take your fucking coat off and sit down, for fuck's sake," he said as he was filling the kettle at the sink.

He heard Eren sigh.

"Yes, Sir."

An irritated noise was Levi's only reaction.

He finally heard some shuffling, but Eren wasn't sitting down. Levi tensed as he felt two arms encircle him from behind. Eren's forehead dropped onto his shoulder, and he held Levi close.

Levi shut his eyes and swallowed with difficulty. Feeling inadequate, he patted Eren's hand, buried in Levi's sweater.

Right over his heart.

"Your hands are freezing," Levi said, fingertips grazing at Eren's cold skin in an awkward caress. "Let me work."

Eren nodded in Levi's neck and let go.

A few minutes later, Eren was on the couch, nursing a mug of warm tea. Levi sat beside him, his own mug on the rickety-looking side table, still too hot to drink.

"So," Levi started, his voice quiet, "what happened?"

Hands tightening around the mug, Eren shook his head. Once again, his face was all scrunched up. He looked like he was going to cry.

"What, don't wanna to talk about it?" Levi prompted, as if goading Eren into voicing whatever was bothering him would work.

Again, Eren shook his head.

"I don't know," Eren said. "I'm not sure how to explain."

Levi grit his teeth, unsure if what he felt was compassion or anxiety.

"It's all right," he said. "How long has it been since you last slept?"

Eren stared down at the linoleum. "Two days."

"Because you can't or because you won't?"

Eren took time to answer.

"Both," he said, voice cracking again, and shrugged instead of elaborating.

An awkward silence followed. Eren barely touched his tea, while Levi gulped his. He couldn't even taste it, the usual warmth and comfort barely registering. Drinking tea had never been so devoid of enjoyment for him. He'd been expecting a difficult conversation, but Eren wasn't talking, and Levi didn't know what to do to help him.

Maybe now wasn't the best time.

"Well," he finally said after a while, putting put his empty mug back on the side table, "you should get some sleep."

It was the best Levi could come up with, but he didn't know that it'd work well. Eren looked more and more anxious by the minute.

"You're going?" Eren asked when Levi stood up.

Levi turned around. He meant to retrieve his coat, but the look in Eren's eyes stopped him. It was subtle, some kind of repressed trepidation. Levi recognized panic, anguish. Loss, too. Tremendous, devastating loss. It didn't suit his youthful face. Levi never wanted to see that look in Eren's eyes ever again.

He really couldn't leave Eren alone, even if they didn't talk. Not like this.

"I'll stay," he said, sitting back on the couch. "But you should sleep."

The panic faded from Eren's eyes. The loss remained.

Eren had finished his tea, but he didn't move from the couch instead of complying and going to bed. Instead, he turned to face Levi and just stared. It was the same as outside, on the bench near the cemetery. It seemed he couldn't get enough of Levi's face.

He stared for a while, and Levi stared back, heart racing.

"I'm scared," Eren said without warning, "that you'll be gone when I wake up."

Levi didn't know what to say. Tongue leaden, he forced his lips apart.

"Would that be so bad?"

There it was again, the unfathomable loss that inhabited the depths of Eren's eyes. It pierced right through Levi, making air freeze in his lungs, around the bruising weight of his heart.

"I can't lose you again."

Battling the sudden urge to curl up into the back of the couch, Levi closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. His legs were sluggish. His whole body felt numb. He didn't even think he could leave, even if he truly wanted to.

"Let's get you into bed," he said.

Levi took Eren's hand and stood up. Gently pulling him off the couch, he led Eren towards the bed.

Eren didn't resist. He let Levi manhandle him to sit on the bed, to lie down. Levi went back to the couch and waited. When Eren kept staring at him instead of closing his eyes, he gave his best disapproving glare.

The room was silent for a while, and Eren couldn't seem to keep them open after all. His eyes finally closed, and his breathing soon turned deeper.

Levi was exhausted. He wanted to comfort Eren, but he was much too blunt for any kind of subtlety, impatient, and unwilling to compromise. It'd be better to leave, he thought, but at this point, it might do more harm than good. He'd never felt so helpless.

About an hour after Eren had fallen asleep, he started tossing and turning in his bed. He was breathing hard, hand gripping hard at his blanket, twitching. Levi watched him for a bit. When Eren stopped moving after a while, Levi closed his eyes and resumed trying – and failing – to nap.

A muffled whine made him sit up. Eren had been cold earlier, but his forehead was now glistening with a sheen of sweat. Mutters Levi couldn't make out passed through Eren's tight lips. It didn't seem so good. Levi left the couch to sit on the bed at Eren's side.

Eren's face was twisted in distress. As Levi watched, the motions of his limbs gradually subsided, until the only one left was the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His breath turned ragged, like sobs fighting to get out.

Levi had seen enough.

He reached for Eren. With a cautious hand, he brushed away the sweaty hair, fingers grazing against Eren's forehead.

"Wake up," he whispered. "It's just a nightmare."

Eren's breathing halted, before resuming its irregular pattern. Levi went on brushing his fingers through Eren's hair as he stirred, in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

Eren's breathing stuttered. He blinked awake as the first tears fell. He stared at Levi, unashamed by either the tears or the unattractive face he made. He didn't seem to care at all. He closed his eyes and hid his face against Levi's wrist in what would have been an affectionate gesture, hadn't Levi felt the moisture seeping through his cuffs.

"Is –", Eren managed to ask between shaky breaths, "is this – a dream?"

Another stab at Levi's heart – not so fucking stony, after all. His feeling of helplessness became overwhelming. There was nothing he could do, nothing but lie down next to Eren and draw him into an awkward hug.

"Just a dream," Levi said. "It's nothing."

Levi huffed, shifting around so that the position wasn't so uncomfortable. When he was satisfied, he slid his fingers back into Eren's hair.

"I'm sorry," Eren said from underneath Levi's chin, cracking voice muffled by the fabric of his sweater.

"What for," Levi said.

But Eren was gripping his sweater, holding him closer.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

He was shaking badly now, body racked by sobs, and there was nothing Levi could do but hold him tight.