Chapter 16: Stay with Me

Of course, Levi noticed.

They were doing their usual late-afternoon thing; tea and paperwork on his side of the desk, tea and books and notes on hers. Working and existing together and separately at the same time, the quiet only interrupted by the occasional chink of a cup on a saucer. Or by a dry remark, or an annoyed sigh, or a complaint about whatever; something particularly tedious about the work or something Nora did that Levi, fussy as he was, deemed irritating or distracting or otherwise unacceptable. Twirling her pen in her fingers, adjusting her seat, fiddling with her necklace—you name it, he disliked it.

But they could also spend hours like this without exchanging a single word. Not without exchanging a single look, however. She couldn't quite grasp why this—mostly—peaceful coexistence was so much preferable to being alone without him. Where was the big difference? She had a sort-of answer to this, of course, and she was slowly coming to accept that not every aspect of it could be as rational as she would have liked.

Today was business as usual, in short, especially since Nora had found the time and energy to peruse the pile of transcontinental literature waiting for her since their return from their first overseas survey mission. On days she transformed, on the other hand, she would often collapse straight into bed, for once having no issues falling asleep—though that didn't help the nightmares. Regardless—or maybe because of this—she'd sometimes insist on doing a bit of reading or research first, no matter what Levi said—and, to her vexation, proof him right those times she accidentally dozed off over her notes. And when she woke hours later, she would find herself in bed, either alone or not, tucked in far more thoroughly than she ever would do herself, with no memory and only one possibility as to how she'd got there.

Nora wished she'd wake up at least one time he did this, but he always managed without disturbing her slumber. Paradoxically, even though her sleep was the least restorative then, she was harder to rouse when she'd transformed that day.

Today, she didn't feel tired, however, and she hadn't for several days. An undercurrent of restless tension kept her awake, making it hard to concentrate. She managed somewhat, though, and the more interesting parts of her reading even gave her a moment's peace, a short reprieve from herself. After all, she'd got as used to this state of existence as was possible. It was, in varying degrees, her normal, and had been for years.

This constant, nagging feeling as if the other shoe was about to drop.

There hadn't been any noise from the other side of the desk in a while—not even tea-related sounds—so when Levi stood up all of a sudden, Nora looked up from her work, almost flinching in her seat. When she was on edge like this, it didn't take much to startle her.

He walked around the desk to her side, leaning his hip against the edge, arms and ankles crossed. Studying her in that infuriating way that made her feel like he was reading her thoughts, her every emotion, evoking an unsettling mix of unease and excitement within her.

"What's wrong?" he asked after several drawn-out seconds.

She tensed up. "Why do you think something is wrong?" Except for all the obvious impeding-doom-stuff, of course, but had he been referring to that, he might as well have asked her this question every day.

His brows furrowed, his impatience already evident. "You've been reading the same page for ten minutes. You can't sit still. You can't keep your hands out of your goddamned hair. You're basically vibrating." His narrow-eyed, scrutinising gaze bored right through her. "I could go on like this, but in short, you're irritating as hell. It's been like this for days."

And there she was, thinking she was working quietly, her crazy contained inside, as usual. Well, not to Levi. She hadn't even noticed him observing her. She felt another surge of the elevated agitation that had, over the past few days, made itself far too comfortable in the pit of her stomach.

Nora sighed, folding her fidgety hands in her lap. "It's super annoying how well you can read me."

His eyes drifted to the side. "I'm around you pretty much all the damn time."

Her mouth stretched into a lopsided, self-deprecating smile. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't want to be around me 'all the damn time'." And she wasn't even joking; after all, she had to live inside her bloody head.

Levi's features smoothed out a little. Then, he said, quiet and even and unexpected, "See, and that's where we differ."

Her heart did that ridiculous little flip only he ever managed to provoke, and she had to look away from him as warmth spread through her.

When that special, intense silence they sometimes shared got too much for her to bear any longer, she steered the conversation back in a safer direction.

"It's unfair, though," she complained. "It's so hard to read you. You're just about as expressive as a stone slab." That earned her a decent scowl—the reward she had hoped for—and she amended, "An angry stone slab."

While she did her best to suppress a grin, his expression didn't change. But there was that beautiful, subtle silvery glint in his eyes that she—entitled as it may be—felt belonged exclusively to her, and one corner of his lips was quirked up almost imperceptibly.

"You can't decide if you're pissed or amused right now, am I right?" she guessed.

A small muscle twitched in his cheek, scowl firmly in place. "I don't have to decide."

"That actually makes a lot of sense regarding the majority of our conversations, in hindsight." And it was way too much fun.

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at her. Even if he had said it out loud, he couldn't have made it clearer that she was unnecessarily pointing out something very obvious. But from one second to the next, his expression grew unexpectedly serious, the change drastic—by his stone slab standards.

"As dense as you are in some matters," he said, catching her hand in his before she could poke him in the ribs, "all around, you've always done an annoyingly decent job at reading me." And as if that statement alone hadn't been enough to throw her off balance in a very good way, he pulled her up from her seat, taking her other hand as well, interlacing his fingers with hers. And did not let go, holding her gaze. Reducing her awareness of everything else to background noise; making her poor, raw, doomed heart swell.

He'd started doing this very occasionally ever since she'd opened that door—and not only that door—during their early-morning conversation a few weeks ago. She could only hope he wasn't just doing it for her sake, but she was too chicken and too selfish to ask.

Nora cleared her throat in a futile effort to keep the scratchiness out of her voice. "It probably helps that, if you decide to talk, you possess no brain-to-mouth filter whatsoever."

"I do. I just usually don't bother."

She chuckled. "I can get behind that." After all, his utter disregard for propriety was one of her favourite things about him.

There were far too many.

His hold on her hands tightened for an instant.

"So?" he prompted then.

Nora frowned. "So, what?"

"Don't give me that shit. You still owe me an answer, brat."

Oh, right. Drat. It was absolutely impossible to distract him. Not that she had tried on purpose; instead, she was the one who, for a moment, had forgotten what had sparked their little exchange.

Sighing, she withdrew her hands from his grasp. She couldn't concentrate otherwise, couldn't keep the distance from herself that was necessary to talk about a subject like this.

Training her eyes on a point somewhere to his left, she told him about Niccolo and his brother, told him what they'd learnt from Sasha.

"Care to tell me why you kept your shitty mouth shut about this for four days?" Levi asked after Nora had finished explaining. Just when she opened said mouth to answer, he pre-empted her. "No, forget that. Stupid question."

He fell silent for an instant, and she knew he was analysing every angle, trying to consider every possible outcome.

"Do you think Sasha will tell him?" he asked next.

Nora shook her head, partly in an attempt to alleviate the tightness in her throat. "I think Armin talked her out of it."

Levi's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Armin. Not you."

"Yes."

He nodded, as if he hadn't expected anything else. "If he finds out, this is going to get ugly. You'll be in danger." The frown on his face deepened, his features setting in that severe way like they always did before he issued a command. "From now on, you'll stay away from him—permanently."

Nora sighed, giving him a you-don't-say look. "What do you think I was planning on doing? Enjoying the meals and chatting with someone whose brother I killed?" A small knot had formed in her chest, but she simply shrugged. "Besides, he couldn't do any lasting damage, anyway."

"Except he could shoot you in your shitty head," Levi snapped, gesturing to his temple with index and middle finger, the movement emphatic, agitated.

Disorienting as his sudden change of mood was, Nora was more than willing to latch onto her welling vexation, so familiar it was almost comforting, replacing decidedly more unpleasant emotions. "And where's he supposed to get a gun?" she shot back.

He let out a half-exasperated, half-condescending grunt. "Come on. That would be the easiest part."

"I truly believe he wouldn't do that, even if he had the chance. He's the kind of bloke who doesn't have the stomach for it."

For some reason, that only pissed him off further. "Tsk." Although the distance between them was already below the necessary threshold for Nora to remain entirely clearheaded, he took another step closer, until he was looking down at her. "Do you really have no idea what people are willing to do if it's about someone they love? Are you really that ignorant?" His voice low and dark, he was glaring daggers at her, emanating tension from head to toe. She twitched a little at that word, so unexpected and unfamiliar and… and unsettling, coming from him. Combined with his infuriating dismissiveness, the rhetorical questions evoked conflicting feelings deep within her; but all of them heightened Nora's agitation, quickened her heartbeat.

Somehow, it felt like he was saying several things at once. It sounded like a challenge.

She had no idea why her mind suddenly dragged up a variety of past arguments with him that all had one underlying theme in common: her safety.

His reaction to the incident with Hange, when Nora had acted as a "human shield". His displeasure at her—admittedly a little bit risky—actions in Marley that had led to the current discussion in the first place. Even the fact that they had cut back on her shifter training; yes, it made sense and had ultimately been Hange's decision, and they applied the same standards to Eren, but still… Nora couldn't quite shake the sneaking suspicion that the idea had originally come from him.

And now, far less ambiguous, this; his reaction to an alleged future danger that wasn't even a threat yet and would likely never become one. Blown out of proportion, in her opinion.

And once again, he was ignoring that she wasn't the only one who could die. He was the strongest and fastest, yes; but this meant he always got stuck with the most crucial, riskiest tasks in a mission, and usually solo. That aside, even he was more human than her, now. One wrong move, one strike of a titan or a blade or a single bullet not evaded in time, and it could be over for him.

As always, the thought brought forth undiluted panic, squeezing Nora's lungs in an icy grip, making her stomach twist. And she thought about this often, especially ever since she had seen him being chased through Stohess by a dozen excellent shots, had seen him bleed—like a normal fucking person—had seen how narrowly all those bullets had missed him, how close he'd come to—

She stopped herself right there, having no desire to make herself start hyperventilating. Point was, he had no more reason to worry about her than she had with him. Probably even less. Hell, once transformed, she was even harder to kill than Eren.

"We are soldiers," Nora reminded him, and couldn't quite fathom that she felt the need to. It was Levi, after all. But she also said it to remind herself, and that need she could fathom. "I can look out for myself. Since when have you gotten so… protective of me?" She swallowed the 'overly'. She had a strong hunch it wouldn't be received well. It seemed outright presumptuous to ask him this, but his past and present behaviour spoke for itself.

For a moment, she was sure he'd deny it.

"Dunno," Levi answered instead, his expression cold and dangerous. "Maybe when you decided to blow yourself up the moment I turned my back on you."

She was silent for a beat, the anger rising in her chest having her at a loss for words.

Seriously, fuck this shit. She was so tired of that wretched subject.

"How long will you keep giving me shit for this?" Nora threw up her hands in aggravation. "You know it's not fair."

"No it isn't," he confirmed without the slightest hint of repentance. "What ever is?"

"At least decide," she said, barely controlling the volume of her heated voice. "Is it your fault or mine? The only person you put through the wringer for this far more than me is you. But you can't blame us both."

"I damn well can."

"Doesn't make sense."

"Does, too."

She let out a frustrated groan. "It's been one-and-a-half years, Levi."

He pinned her in place with his glare, now so close she was sure she felt the heat radiating from his body, helping bugger all to cool her temper. "So what?" he replied. "It's becoming more relevant than ever."

"It wouldn't be relevant if you had let me die," she spat.

For a moment, he froze, and even the anger in his steel-grey eyes wavered. Hastening to clear up her meaning, she added, emphatic, "I'd rather take relevant."

Their laboured breathing was the only sound penetrating the oppressive silence that followed.

Then, he tilted his chin, almost bringing their noses to touch. The tension in his jaw and posture did not lessen—but it changed.

As did the tension in the air around them, turning to crackling electricity.

"I want you. Now," he told her, enunciating each word, his deep voice gravelly and domineering—giving her whiplash.

Her body's reaction was immediate and inevitable, quicker than her mind could consciously process his words. Anger gave way to desire, heating her blood and gathering low in her core, the muscles in her thighs tensing.

But she needed to be sensible, here. At least one of them had to be.

"That's no way to settle an argument," she said, breathless yet stern, keeping a tight leash on her tone and expression.

"There's nothing to settle. Everything's perfectly clear." His heavy-lidded gaze dropped below her chin, those straight, dense black lashes reaching towards his cheekbones.

Levi took the pendant of her necklace between his fingers, knuckles brushing the overheated skin above her neckline. She suppressed a shiver.

"More importantly, I don't fucking care," he murmured. "Do you?" The pitch of his rumbling voice dropped even lower, his delectable smell invading her nostrils.

Nora couldn't properly think anymore through the haze in her brain, but it did not matter, because she had suddenly realised that he was making perfect sense. And above all, he was completely right, damn him.

"No," she admitted, whispering. "I really don't give a shit."

Triumph flashed in his eyes like light catching on a blade. He reacted immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in, and captured her mouth with his, lips hot and soft, firm and demanding.

But in truth, nothing was settled, because everything about him was as unsettling as could be.

And that was perfectly clear, indeed.

#

Levi broke their kiss far too early, yet just at the right time—she was already in dire need of air. Nora wouldn't have found the time to complain, anyway; he pulled her shirt over her head so swiftly the cool air of the room hit her overly sensitive skin before she had even registered the movement. Her bra was discarded in the same manner, her nipples drawing into tight peaks, and he was already working open her trousers when her mind finally caught up with her body. Her hands flew to his grey shirt, and fuck these annoying buttons and fuck her shaking fingers.

He had mercy with her and helped, getting rid of the piece of clothing with that same impatience and Ackerman speed, and it was unlike him and so him at the same time. His tight expression, the fire in his extraordinary, breathtaking eyes; it mirrored all that Nora was feeling, burning and building deep inside, and hell if that wasn't a huge fucking mess.

She already had her hands on those perfect, chiselled abs of his before his shirt dropped to the floor, and Levi drew in a sharp gasp, the muscles beneath her palms tensing when her fingers dipped below the waistband of his trousers. Her eyes couldn't take him in fast enough, roaming from his face over his bare upper body to the unmistakable tent below and all the way back up, again and again. There was never enough time to give every square inch of skin, every scar and every other little detail, all the attention she wanted to give. Sometimes, it seemed unfair that he looked like this—not that she was complaining—and because she was touching him, voicing her thoughts wasn't a conscious decision; her mouth ran of its own accord.

"You're so fucking hot it's ridic—"

"Likewise," he interrupted, terse, and pulled and pushed her down onto the hard wooden floor, the coldness at her back rendered irrelevant the moment he covered her bare torso with his, hot and heavy, and he sealed his lips over hers in another open-mouthed, passionate kiss. His hand cradled the back of her head, lifting it an inch, deepening the kiss—and the next second he'd shoved something soft beneath. Her discarded shirt, she realised; a makeshift pillow so that her head wouldn't lie directly on the hard wood.

Even now, even when he was—when they were—like this. Her palpitating heart felt like it was about to burst, and the way she kissed him back became nothing short of desperate.

Shit, but this man was going to be the end of her.

Nora hadn't recovered yet—neither from that unexpected, tender gesture amidst their carnal desire, nor from his exquisite, bittersweet taste—when he drew back with an impatient sound, somewhere between a groan and a growl. Levi tore off the rest of their clothes, first hers then his, never once averting his hot-iron gaze from her.

Once they were completely bare, he dipped his head to her breasts, caressing her with teeth and tongue and lips, nibbling and licking and sucking in all the ways she liked best, giving equal attention to both. Liquid fire spread through her veins, worsening that delicious ache between her legs. Her fingers twined in his black hair, curling around the soft strands, and she was writhing and gasping and cursing beneath him, and it was not nearly enough for either of them.

He brought one hand between her thighs, his nimble fingers dancing over her sensitive flesh, all the while continuing the ministrations with his perfect mouth, tasting her skin. The moans tumbling from her mouth were outside her control, as were her movements; the clasp on his hair tightening, her pelvis lifting to push into his touch, her legs opening further to provide him better access, knees dropping to the side.

Levi pulled back a little then, heedless of her firm hold on his hair, watching her and watching what he was doing to her, his jaw set, eyes dark and greedy.

"Fuck if this isn't so worth it," he said huskily.

Her heart gave a throb, all her muscles tightening, and by the way his breath hitched and his features tensed further, he could feel it with his fingers. "Yes," she answered without hesitation, because how could she not.

Each and every thing he was doing to her was deliberate, purposeful, outright efficient—exactly what he knew would never fail to increase her need for him the fastest, and to near unbearable measures. There was no teasing, this time, no playing around, but his urgency was just as irresistible; what he'd said, how he touched her, how he looked at her…

As if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe she wasn't alone in her desperation, just as potent as her desire, feeding into each other.

Quickly, so quickly, he had her right where he wanted her; quivering and squirming, unhinged beyond caring about the noises she was making—other than the inconceivable, maddening effect it always had on Levi; his touch grew firmer and more insistent, his hips moving seemingly of their own accord, seeking the friction, hot and rock-hard against her thigh. He was adding to her noises with his own, low and delicious, drawn forth from deep in his throat. Until every inch of her was ablaze with lust and she was slick with her wetness and more than ready.

There was no space for patience, today, so it was almost a relief when his hand retreated, because there was no doubt in Nora's mind that it would be followed by what they both craved most, right now. What he had been working towards.

Bracing himself on one arm, Levi looped the other around her thigh, spreading her wide—and entered her in one smooth stroke, their shared, desperate urgency spiking. He stifled both their moans with another kiss, brutal and short, plundering her mouth with his tongue, taking it all, taking what was his. Invading her in every sense.

Her inner walls clenched around him; the magnificent, full sensation welcomed by her mind as much as by her body. And he took her, right there on the floor, hard and fast and deep, whispering and growling and rasping those things into her ear that he would only say when he was inside her, and even then so, so rarely. Talking her through it, unguarded and unrestrained. It had been so long since he'd last been like this, probably because he hadn't touched her in a long while when he was this angry.

And not just that. She sensed it, she tasted it, she was consumed by it.

Fear. He was afraid, and he was angry, and for him, the first could rarely exist without the second.

"So worth it," he said again, and, "driving me mad," and, "infuriating nutcase."

Each word reverberated through her, holding her heart in a death grip. His breath was hot and erratic against her neck as he alternated between kisses and bites, driving into her relentlessly, leaving her with no chance to keep herself together.

"Stay with me," Nora gasped without meaning to, wrapping her arms around his back and the nape of his neck with all her strength. "Angry or not, I don't care."

"I'll always—" His voice broke, and the sentence was left unfinished.

Maybe because he never made promises he couldn't keep.

But it was alright, because he was kissing her again and because he was in her arms, and because they were so very much alive.

Merciless as he was, she broke apart so soon, too soon, shuddering and moaning as the burst of pleasure overtook her, flooding her system, radiating into every last nerve ending. Forgetting herself for that one blissful moment, forgetting her surroundings and her reality and everything except him. And only after did Levi let go of that last remnant of control he had been clinging to, tensing all over, his thrusts becoming shallower and frenzied. And he followed her over that brink with no return, trembling and groaning into the crook of her neck in a way that had her desperation peak, had her eyes pricking.

Something inside her chest cracked, and it hurt so bad and yet it was so worth it.

And she knew.

One way or the other, they would go down together.

AN: I might or might not have something a little more... titillating planned along the line, but nothing else than how this don't-die-sex went would have fit the tone and circumstance here, IMO.