Chapter 6: Control

With their first undercover visit to Marley approaching, Levi had begun ordering them to hand-to-hand combat training more and more often.

After over two years under his wing, Nora's technique in close combat left little to be desired. Nevertheless, she was and would always be at a physical disadvantage compared to most of her opponents. Soldier or no, she was also a woman, and a particularly short and slight one, at that. And that was a fact, if a bothersome one. It was also a fact that, on the flip side, her constellation worked well with ODM gear; unfortunately, it would be a while until the new, improved equipment was done and ready for them to train with.

A year ago, Nora had still been able to best her fellow members of the Special Ops squad in one-on-one sparring sessions—Levi and Mikasa aside, but those two really didn't count. But time, increasing experience, growth spurts and Levi's expert instruction had changed that. Eren and Jean, for instance, had become taller, broader, and a lot more level-headed in fights. Connie, once shorter than even the captain, had shot up as if he'd been injected with some sort of titan serum. Nora was pretty sure Levi took it as a personal insult.

These days, Nora could apply her best technique and get frustrated all she wanted, and she would still end up losing against most of her squad mates in a one-on-one mock battle setting. She usually managed to beat Sasha and Armin, but that was it. She wouldn't call herself a sore loser, in general, but come at her, fists raised, or try and grab her—pretend fight or not—and a switch would flip in her brain and make her see red.

Through relentless and repeated exposure, Levi had taught her to rein in her anger and utilise it to her advantage. That didn't mean she would ever enjoy getting her arse handed to her, however, and for some reason, this was especially the case with her primary sparring partner; no matter the context or type of emotion, positive or negative and everything in-between, Levi had always managed to draw the strongest reactions from her, to her endless aggravation.

This bright, sunny training day was no exception. When she landed on her arse for the third time within ten minutes, Nora was convinced no one could fault her for losing her cool. Arms crossed, Levi waited, nothing but boredom reflecting in his heavy-lidded eyes as she got back on her feet, glaring at him with murderous intent. Her insides were burning, her ferocious heartbeat thumping against her heaving chest, roaring in her ears. She forced herself to take two long breaths, and think—before she attacked him once more, trying a feint from the left.

Her restraint was in vain. He saw through each of her moves before she even made them, and evaded her assault without using his arms, tripping her up with one leg, so fast she barely knew what was happening before landing on the grass again, arms instinctively outstretched to avoid a spectacular faceplant. The sudden impact rattled her jaw, and she bit her lip, hard.

Ouch.

On her knees, Nora whirled to face him, the sharp sting of pain what made her pent-up fury boil over. Fuck restraint and fuck thinking.

"You…" Her pitch had climbed an octave. "You bloody, sodding, fucking arsehole. Who the fuck moves like that?" As soon as the tirade had got out—her mouth had moved of its own accord, really—she felt marginally better. "That was absolutely foul and unnecessary."

"Oops. My bad," Levi said with no inflection whatsoever in his deep voice, the picture of indifference from head to toe. "Didn't realise you'd still think there's such a thing as a fair fight."

Humanity's strongest and most sarcastic, no doubt.

And now, she was literally steaming, licking the blood from her lower lip as the wound already mended itself. Through the tendrils of steam rising before her eyes, she could see that Levi's gaze had zoned in on her mouth, jaw clenching. Conflicting emotions flickered just below the steely surface of his irises, subdued so quickly Nora had no chance of identifying them.

He took a step forward, surprising her when he held both hands out for her to take. Frowning, she reached out, and he threaded his fingers through hers as he pulled her up. The novel gesture sent a small, electric jolt through her nerves, her anger dwindling at his touch, leaving behind the heat alone.

When she was back on her feet, he let go after the shortest hesitation, and only when the ambient noise returned did she realise it had escaped her awareness before; their comrades sparring close by, the occasional bang from the rookies doing target practice around the corner, the screeches of seagulls high above them. So absorbed she'd been, with the fight and him.

Levi watched as her lip finished healing. "Another round?" His low baritone had taken on that gravelly quality that always made her forget how to act like a normal person. Well, normal for her.

Nora gave a curt nod, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. The metallic taste of blood lingered in her mouth.

He stepped back, readied his stance. "Don't forget to watch out for my feet."

Bastard. She pursed her lips, suddenly finding herself capable of speech, again. "Thank you for the advice, really helpful."

Their dance continued, never quite the same—except for its inevitable outcome. Despite his belated, mock warning, he did not trip her up again. As always, he pulled his punches, while she did not; her fists didn't more than graze him. And as always, he was holding back, of course, always holding back, always the one in control—at the very least to an extent—no matter what they did. All the while, she was unravelling, if she wanted to or not.

The scale could not be further tipped to his side, and it had nothing to do with his superior physical strength. It was infuriating beyond words.

After a few minutes, he had brought her down, once again, pinning her into the grass—subdued by him in every aspect—and she hated how much she could not hate it. Hated how her heated blood thrummed in her veins, and against his fingers wrapped around her wrists. Hated how her limbs went mushy as the scent of his sun-warmed skin hit her nostrils.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Nora hissed into his face—perfectly composed save for the telling spark in his eyes.

At her words, the spark caught, turning his gaze to molten steel. "Far more than I should, in public," Levi murmured.

All the moisture from her mouth seemed to have rushed somewhere decidedly lower. Before she could do or say anything stupid, the tantalising weight and solid pressure of him lifted and he was standing at a safe distance from her once more.

Nora could not look at him as she scrambled to her feet. Her body felt flushed and tingly all over.

He'd probably been right, at the soirée. This wasn't just unbalanced; it was also kind of fucked up.

"This is neither healthy nor sane, I'm quite sure," she muttered, shaking her hazy head.

"That's what I've always been trying to tell you. I never made a secret of it," he said, unforgiving.

For once, he hadn't got her meaning. "I wasn't talking about you."

Levi remained silent for long enough her eyes searched his face eventually.

Best mistake she had made all day.

At last, he spoke, voice blank. "We're done for today." His heated, darkly promising expression, however, told a whole different story.

He turned, fists clenching and releasing at his sides, heading for the base in brisk strides without bothering to wait for her. Nora stood, still on rather shaky feet, her breath coming faster for a variety of reasons that had no place whatsoever existing together.

Yep, he sure got her worked up like no one else, in every possible way.

#

It was appalling to see how much more even the average Marleyan foot soldier knew than anyone on this bloody island. Well, not any longer, and partly thanks to those soldiers and Hange's… winning personality.

The thin but concise volume about the Nine Titans, which Nora was poring over, was easily one of the more useful Marleyan books she'd got her hands on so far. And while she knew that train of thought would lead to nothing good, she couldn't help thinking how knowledge like this would have been a tremendous asset back at the 57th expedition, or at the Battle of Shiganshina, or at countless other situations that had cost the lives of their comrades.

Better now than never, she supposed. Plus, it wasn't like she would have been able to translate the writing, back then. And Eren wasn't of much help in that department, either; for whatever reason, his glimpses into previous lives didn't extend all that far into literary depth. They couldn't choose what they remembered, if anything at all, and when; a fact Nora was reminded of many, many nights.

She really could have done without the majority of it. Her own losses were painful and conflicting enough to deal with; she didn't need to mourn her enemies on top of that.

She didn't want to feel sorry for a girl she hated.

The door to the office opened, and she realised she hadn't been writing anything down for a while, her eyes staring blankly at the notebook, pen hovering over the page.

Levi had returned from the combat lessons he'd been giving, disgruntled and probably very dissatisfied with his current state of hygiene, judging by his sour mien.

"Done beating up more poor soldiers?" Nora said as a greeting after a quick glance.

"Someone has to do the dirty work," he muttered and disappeared into the bathroom.

And right he was. Who, if not him, was the one always getting shit done, no matter how ugly it got?

And she better be prepared to do the same. Bertolt certainly had been. She sighed, forcing her attention back to the book and away from their uncertain, anxiety-inducing future.

The sound of the shower running barely registered as she sat engrossed in her reading, just enough to be aware that she had ten, fifteen minutes max left before Levi might shoo her from 'his' side of the desk and 'his' chair, grumbling about the paperwork he had to do. One time, she had refused to give up the spot upon his explicit demand just to see what would happen—Hange was right, Nora really had a curious mind—and had lived to regret it. Despite her best efforts at resisting, he had lifted her out of 'his' chair without any difficulty and deposited her rather ungently on the seat at the opposite side.

No reason to try that manoeuvre again; she could do her damn reading while sharing the desk space, she supposed, if less efficiently. Although Levi rarely said a word while they were working, his mere presence two feet across from her was distracting enough, and she often found herself looking up at him, deep in thought, and then suddenly she would be thinking about something entirely unrelated to the topic at hand.

The sound of the shower had ceased a while ago. Nora turned a page in the book, very deliberately not looking in his direction as she heard his bare feet padding over the wooden floor. The audible cue was unnecessary, anyway. She felt him approach.

Instead of a harsh voice prompting her to "move her ass", however, he came to stand behind her; quiet hands flattening on the desk's surface on either side of her reading material, effectively caging her in. Bare, muscular arms bracing an equally bare upper body, as one quick glance over her shoulder couldn't confirm with more certainty than the scent of his clean, warm skin already had.

That wasn't good. Why hadn't he put on a shirt? No one could work like that.

"How the hell can you read this shit so easily?" The low rumble of his voice, so close to her ear, raised the fine hairs on her nape.

"It's not so hard, once you know the system and got the symbols down," she said, her throat dry. Nora would have to teach Hange and the Special Ops squad soon—the basics, at least, seeing as there wasn't that much time for practice—if they wanted to infiltrate Marley without blowing their cover immediately. She was talking a bit too fast, as if trying to out-speed the rapidly accumulating fog in her brain. "It's read from left to right, and each symbol stands for a single letter instead of syllables."

Damn it. Why did he always have to smell this nice?

"Sounds like a pain to memorise," he mumbled, his breath hitting her cheek, eliciting shivers running over her warming skin. He must have leaned in closer.

"I'm sure you'll ma—" Her voice died in her throat as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. One long-fingered hand disappeared from the desk, folding over her hipbone. His thumb dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, tracing circles over the tender skin there. Nora's breath hitched in a way he couldn't possibly have missed. Her grip around the pen she was holding tightened.

Slowly, he inched his fingers beneath the waistband of her trousers, grazing them along her lower belly. Her core clenched. Each movement of his hand stoked the need building underneath her skin, pulsating between her legs.

"I guess that means we aren't done for today, after all?" she asked thinly, throwing his words at him in an effort to retain a semblance of dignity.

"I'm certainly not done with you," Levi murmured. He nipped her earlobe with his teeth.

She released a shaky breath, her eyes squeezing shut. "I'm trying to work, here."

"Is that a no, then?" It sounded a bit like a challenge. He went very still, the hand that had somehow made it quite far into her pants pausing at the juncture between thigh and groin.

What a fucking farce. It was the sparring session all over again; as always, he had her firmly in his grasp, if not in the literal sense. Yet. Lust seasoned with a generous pinch of frustration heated her blood as her body and mind accepted the inevitable.

The pen dropped from Nora's numb fingers. "You know it's not, bastard."

Levi withdrew his hand. "By the way," he said, and only now did the sound of his quickened exhalations penetrate her ears, "you're sitting on my chair, you hot-headed brat."

With that, he pulled her up by her wrist and all but dragged her into the bedroom. Ignoring her snappy, foul-mouthed protests, he pulled her flush against him and kissed her, hard, and suddenly she didn't care anymore about power balance or how bloody pathetic she was. For the moment, at least.

He plied open her mouth with his tongue, the invasion hot and heady and welcomed by all her senses. Nora's heart was racing in her chest, threatening to drive her out of her skin, as it always did when she was with him. It was as exhilarating as it was aggravating and deeply unsettling. Being with him always felt like flying, and like falling, both at the same time.

The feel of his bare skin beneath her fingertips was tantalising, the barrier of cloth remaining between them bordering on torture. When she broke their kiss to shed her shirt and bra, his expression hardened, jaw clenching. Steeling himself.

Levi pushed her back onto the bed regardless, and kissed her again; but something had changed, just as she had sensed.

Over time, she had started to recognise the signs, learnt the difference between the times he was holding back and the scarcer times he wouldn't quite as much… or couldn't.

Right now, she could feel his reluctance even in his kiss, usually as relentless as the way he fought, leaving her no chance but to surrender—and embrace it, even. His neck and shoulders were bow-taut beneath her hands, and he had her pinned in a way that made it impossible to bridge the last inch of air he left between their bodies.

You have me completely, he had told her between several insults that one time they'd actually managed to discuss the nature of their relationship. But at this moment, he was withholding a part of him, something tangible and vital, something Nora knew was there. Or so she desperately hoped.

Yes, Levi wanted her, and she was allowed to have him, she alone, and it should have been enough.

But she was greedy, and she wanted it all, wanted to take as good as she gave. A few times—likely not on purpose—he had shown her glimpses of what lay beneath that hard, controlled exterior, and she was unable to ever forget a single word, touch or gesture that had slipped through the cracks. In return, he laid all her unspoken secrets bare every time without fail, plain to see, stripping off each of her layers with painful ease.

He would rarely ever let himself slip like this, while she had fallen far beyond the point of return. It was hardly fair, for neither of them.

Nora refused to give up without a fight. Immobilised as she was, she bit his lower lip, harder than she usually would—and was rewarded with a low, delicious growl from low in his throat, reverberating through her body. Levi closed that taunting inch of distance between them, pressing her into the mattress and letting her feel his arousal, hard and hot against the crease of her thigh even through the remaining layers of clothing, and he kissed her in exactly that way she craved, that way that was all him.

And she got lost once more as greedy hands roamed over heated skin, desperately seeking out more of the other, and when Levi grabbed her arse through her trousers with one hand and thrust against her aching centre, the friction so deliciously sweet, she moaned into his mouth. And there it was again; his fingers twitched in what Nora recognised was an obstinate struggle to restrain his strength, to not grip her too hard, too roughly. Restraining himself. Always fighting for that smidgen of control he thought necessary, never able to let go completely.

But she wanted him to, when he was with her, wanted him as uninhibited and raw and free and exposed as she was, with him. Wanted him to hold her, take her, have her exactly how he wanted do. He deserved it; they deserved it. Right now, she wanted this so much she thought it might drive her mad. It made her resent her insufficient, weak, soft human body, with pale skin that marked too easily.

But… she could take it now, couldn't she? What would a few more bruises matter, if they healed almost instantly?

The earlier sparring session flickered through her hazy mind, and so many other instances ever since that first, incredible night that had left its mark not only on her body, and the frustration and need welling inside her finally overflowed.

"Let go, dammit," she murmured against his lips, fingers briefly digging into the taut muscle of his back.

"What?" Levi lifted his head just enough to blink at her, brows furrowing.

"Stop holding back, stop thinking, and just let go." Nora put her hand on top of his—still splayed over her behind—and gave an emphatic squeeze. "I can take it."

His face went very still. When he spoke, his tone flat, she found all her suspicions confirmed. "I could end up breaking your bones."

A small, incredulous sound escaped through her nose. Now that seemed excessive to the point of paranoia. However, even she was diplomatic enough to know telling him this would not be constructive, so she said, "Highly unlikely. Besides, I'd heal."

He jerked his hand from her grasp. Bracing himself on his forearms, he glared down at her. "Are you listening to yourself? You're fucking insane."

Yes. Yes, maybe she was. She was also desperate and frustrated enough for the both of them, so much so it accelerated her already racing pulse, pounding heavily against her ribcage. "I just want you to… to get to experience this like I do." Nora squirmed the second the explanation spilt from her mouth.

"Which is… how, exactly?" Levi asked, very quietly, his expression too blank as he held her captive with his dark gaze, feeding all her insecurities and vulnerabilities.

Oh, shit. She was making a total ass of herself here, wasn't she?

"Like—I mean—" The words wouldn't come. Her mind had gone empty and her face felt too hot. Nora's eyes darted all over the place, unable to meet his dissecting stare. It took her what felt like an eternity to come up with a suitable answer, and one that wouldn't constrict her chest and throat in what could only be sheer and utter terror. "It just doesn't seem fair you always have to keep control."

His glare returned in full force; she would have sworn the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "Control? You call this shit 'keeping control'?" He made a vague motion with one hand encompassing the space between them, the movement jerky, agitated. "I'm bruising you often enough as is. Every few times, you're steaming on some body part or the other, afterwards. I wouldn't call that being in control, you idiot."

Well, she would, but what was she going to say? That she had noticed how he avoided touching her when he was, every once in a while, in a not-so-impassive mood? And that every so often, he wouldn't let her go down on him—a phenomenon previously unheard of?

Her silent rebellion must have shown on her face; by now, Levi could read her like an open book in Wallish script. He got the kind of expression he had right before he went in for the kill, eyes like the steel of his blades. "You're telling me you want more of this?" And he squeezed the cheek of her arse, hard, drawing a sharp gasp from her. His voice had dipped low, dark and seductive in his cold anger, sending thrills down her spine and straight between her legs.

And he saw, saw the reaction she had to him. His expression darkened further, eyes narrowed to slits. "Do you like the pain?" The softly spoken question stirred the air between their faces, grazing her skin like an intimate caress.

Nora swallowed, and answered in a throaty voice, "I usually don't even notice. And if I do… it doesn't hurt, hurt." Sick in the head, he had called it. Too bad she didn't give a single shit, when Levi was being… well, Levi.

"Tsk. Unbelievable." He gave a faint shake of his head, as if she was a truly hopeless case and he couldn't quite fathom what he had to deal with. "Apparently, I need to remind you that you didn't seem to enjoy getting your bones crushed the first time you went titan."

So now he was equating the dangers of a fall from thirty-something metres to those of having sex with him? She scoffed. "Come on. I don't think you would—"

"I won't argue about this shit any longer," he cut her off. "You're being unreasonable." He drew away, getting out of the bed before she could hold him back.

Indignance flared hotly in the pit of Nora's stomach. As usual, anger and lust were so, so close together when it came to him. She sat up, fisting the sheets. "You're being overcautious."

Levi rounded on her, getting so close to her face her breath caught, snarling between clenched teeth, "Once and for all, you crazy brat; I won't risk doing any more damage to you than I already am. You think I could enjoy that any more than you would?"

"No, but—"

"Then stop being such a goddamn pain in the ass about nothing," he said, interrupting her once again, the obnoxious prick. He turned away, stalked to the cupboard, pulled out a shirt at random.

How could he emanate such fury and get her hackles up like that while barely raising his voice?

"You're the one making a big deal out of nothing," Nora hissed. He acted like she hadn't talked. Pulling the shirt on over his head in one abrupt motion, Levi made for the door—because why not sod off in the middle of an argument instead of letting her finish a fucking sentence? When his hand touched the door handle, she said, challenging, "Are you really that afraid of yourself?"

The short silence that followed was as deadly as his glare. "When it comes to you—yes." And he left, the door banging shut behind him.

For several seconds, Nora sat frozen, the drum of her pulse thundering in her ears the only sound she registered.

A flood wave of instant regret hit her, so violent it knocked the wind out of her, constricting her chest. Then—

"Shit!" She flung the pillow at the closed door with all her might, gasping for air. His last words echoed in her head, exacerbating her agitation.

Fucking hell. He really had a godawful temper, sometimes.

AN: It's been rough, guys, but I'm glad I had the energy for this, today.

Hope you're enjoying how this develops. There's still quite a ways to go. As always, favs/follows and comments would be immensely appreciated.