Chapter 26: Fool for Love

Life went on, as it had always done, if Nora liked it or not.

She did not like it.

They hadn't heard a peep from Eren, so far. The only reassurance they had was the lack of news from Marley in regard to capturing the Founding Titan.

The squad seemed to be going through the motions. There was no outward change in Levi's behaviour, but Hange barely took the time to eat properly, missing one meal almost every day, while the rest had lost the last shred of their optimism. Mikasa was very pale and had stopped smiling altogether, walking the halls and grounds like a ghost version of herself.

And Nora's sleep was more disrupted than ever. During her waking hours, she was frantic in her efforts to distract herself with work. It didn't help that she had run out of reading material concerning Eldian and titan biology. A bummer, but sadly good timing; due to the recent developments, researching other nations and going through the politics sections of Marleyan, Mid-Eastern, and Hizuru's newspapers took priority.

But how could something so important be so bloody boring?

Regardless, she was taking a ton of notes, as per usual, summarising the relevant parts for Hange, who had enough on her plate with engineering and the ever-same diplomatic efforts in addition to her duties as the commander. Although she was in constant contact with Hizuru, they'd had no real luck, so far. Correspondence with leaders of nations all over the world had led, at best, to somewhat promising answers to Paradis' trade offers—still firmly to be considered a No, though—expressing potential interest once the "political situation relaxed". Better than seething hatred from every side, but still not exactly helpful in Paradis' precarious position and their pursuit of peace. Everyone seemed to be waiting for how the war played out, for fear of making an enemy out of Marley.

"Asking me all the time won't make this go any faster, Nora," Hange had said to her when she had inquired about their progress for the seventh day in a row.

After that, she did her best to dial it down and focus on what she could do to help.

"Dammit," Nora grumbled when her pen stopped writing right as she was about to jot down 'The West has shit relations to the Mid East and delivers a fuckload of weapons to Marley'.

She went through the drawers of the desk in search of more ink—pausing with her fingers on the handle when a piece of paper caught her eye. The handwriting on it was very familiar, but it wasn't Levi's. His was all sharp, neat, pointy letters, no-nonsense, no flourish. Practical and orderly. It checked out. It was very much unlike the jagged, joined scrawl of hers; and that scrawl was what she was currently looking at.

The note she was now holding between thumb and index finger she had hastily scribbled herself, two and a half years ago.

They seemed suited for you.

-Nora

She distinctly recalled spending an entire afternoon running from one shop to the next in the freezing cold, in search of nice, handle-less teacups. The exchanges with the shopkeepers had all gone in a similarly curious manner: yes, they absolutely could not have a handle, and no, it couldn't be normal glasses. After a while, she had resorted to explaining that they were meant for that grumpy old codger she worked for, who would absolutely not accept anything else than what he'd sent her here for.

Not her finest moment, maybe, but she had to entertain herself somehow while freezing her arse off. Eventually, she'd got lucky in a shop specialised in all sorts of dishes; even so, the handle-less cups she had purchased had been the only ones of their kind. Trost simply wasn't all that big compared to the towns in Sina.

The piece of paper was worn out at the edges, flexible instead of stiff and crisp. Like it had been held between fingers many times. Nora blinked, a lump forming in her throat.

He'd kept it. He'd kept her stupid, messy note, together with the cups it had come with. The most orderly, pragmatic, unsentimental man she knew.

She blinked some more. Her eyes were stinging.

Bloody hell, you're not gonna start crying over this, are you?

It must be because she was nearing the end of her cycle. She always got a tad more emotional—though, usually, just crabbier—that time of the month. Yes, that must be it. No way was she getting this emotional just because of a scrap of paper.

Nora had never been much of a crier if she could prevent it, because, for one, it never made her feel better, ever. At best, it made her feel leaden, drained, empty.

Second, over the past dozen years, she'd become quite adept at distancing herself from those emotions that were the biggest pain in the arse to deal with—even if it was getting harder and harder, lately. She preferred channelling them into anger, finding someone or something to blame. Anger was safe, almost comforting. Anger helped her focus instead of paralysing her.

Accordingly, two or three days before her period started, she only got more… impatient. Or, let's call it somewhat short-fused.

Okay, she became a bit of a bitch. And, because all her effort went into suppressing her bad temper around her unsuspecting comrades over the day, Levi usually took the brunt of it. That aside, the bastard knew exactly how to push her buttons. Once, he had dared call her out—he was very observant, and her cycle fairly regular—all calm and indifferent and dismissive ("I suppose it's that time again, if you're being such a bitch?"), as if he was above such petty matters as emotions, and she had come frighteningly close to clawing his eyes out.

But her temper clearly wasn't the issue right now. She was annoyed with herself, yes, but not enough. She was simply that soppy, because in her hands she held the clear evidence that Levi wasn't above emotions, after all. Not that she hadn't known that much already. But somehow, this felt different. Secret.

She put the note back where she'd found it and shut the drawer, staring at the notes and papers in front of her without seeing. There were no tears, thankfully, though her heart wouldn't stop fluttering violently in her too-tight chest.

Levi returned minutes later. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he started complaining about those "noisy, annoying, hopeless brats" he'd had to train, hanging up his cloak, pulling off his boots.

He straightened, eyes landing on her, and shut up abruptly when he saw that she'd stood up from their desk, unbuttoning her blouse.

"Shower?" Nora asked. The garment dropped to the floor behind her. He did not reprimand her. She started with the buttons of her trousers.

His eyes ran down her face all the way to her feet, and back up.

Even before he moved, she could read the answer plainly from his hardened features.

###

Words weren't necessary as Levi grabbed her hand and all but dragged her into the bathroom. Instead of undressing himself—as much as he longed to get out of the dirty, sweaty uniform—he first made quick work of the rest of her clothes and ushered her in the shower. He had his priorities.

She had just turned on the spray and adjusted the temperature to her liking when he joined her in a matter of seconds, roughly pulling her into his embrace. Levi was barely aware of the spray of the shower on his back; it had no discernible temperature. Only she did, hot and pliant against his front, and even hotter the lust blazing inside him.

Nora pulled his head down by his nape and caught his lips with hers, her fingertips stroking over the stubble of his undercut, sending shivers along his spine. He slid his tongue into her mouth, meeting hers, and not gently, either. Her answering moan filled him with her taste.

And before he could slip his fingers between her legs, as he intended to, she traced her lips from his chest to his abdomen, kissing her way down to her knees, and he didn't even consider stopping her, because why even try to resist her, at this point.

But he had just enough sense left to brace his palms against the wall, firmly pressing against the cool tiles instead of bringing his hands to her face—no matter how much he wanted to, wanted to weave his fingers into her hair and hold on for dear life.

The first touch of her lips had him draw in a sharp, audible gasp. Briefly, through the desire clouding his head, he wondered if he was strong enough to crack the tiles with his fingers.

Probably yes, but he hoped he wouldn't find out.

She did not meet his eyes; they were always closed when she gave him head, thoroughly devoted to the act—also, she was shit at eye contact in the best circumstances—and it was for the better. Otherwise, this might become outright dangerous for her. It would be his doom, for sure. And he really, really wasn't done with her yet.

But he was watching, for as long as he managed to keep his eyes open.

And as if that wasn't already enough to drive him out of his mind, Nora made good use of her hands, too; one wrapped around him, moving in tandem with her perfect mouth, the caresses of her wet and soft and nimble tongue. With the fingertips of her other hand, she explored other parts of him, tracing fire over his skin. Along his thigh, to his hipbone, his lower abdomen, his pelvis, his balls, tight with rapidly building, aching pleasure. In fact, he felt tight all over, strung up to a point it put a strain on his muscles, and fuck, it was really just a different kind of fight, the kind he always ended up losing—and he couldn't help but look forward to it.

Levi let himself get lost in this for as long as he could possibly stand, until it got more than a little too good and he a lot too impatient, and then he slid his hands down the sides of her face to her shoulders, nudged her to rise. She did so only after a few additional, hot and torturous strokes of lips and tongue, without any rush, so much so an almost pained groan escaped through his clenched teeth.

"You're a goddamn menace," he growled, and kissed the devious grin right off her soft, swollen lips, hard and deep, and she hummed into his mouth, clutching his upper arms.

He pulled back and turned her around abruptly, forcing her to brace her hands on the tiles of the shower stall.

"I want to touch and see y—" But her protest was cut short when he stepped close, so close, pressing himself against her backside, trapping her between the wall and his body. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples, and instead of protesting she moaned, loud enough it echoed in the stall over the spray of the hot water. Sparks of pleasure raced through him, accumulating in his groin. Nora arched her back, seemingly on instinct, pressing her body closer into his palms, against his erection.

Several swear words escaped his mouth, mumbled into the crook of her neck, and one hand travelled over her stomach, to between her legs—finally.

"Fuck," she hissed, her forehead dropping against the wall as Levi's fingers caressed her slick folds—so deliciously wet, all for him—and between the maddening lust pulsing in his blood from touching her, and the heat of her slender, delicate yet strong body against hers, there wasn't much space for anything else, certainly not for rational decisions. So it probably wasn't rational that she widened her stance and he moved against her behind in sensual, instinctual thrusts, but the only and best, most natural course of action.

The friction and the noises his teasing fingers drew from her throat were driving him even crazier. Nora pressed her mouth against her upper arm, trying to stifle her moans.

No way. He was having none of that. With thumb and index finger of his left hand on her chin, he forced her head away from her skin, trying his best to be somewhat gentle. "No, love," he rasped, and fuck did he enjoy telling her no, "I wanna hear you."

Only when she first tensed and then shuddered beneath his touch did Levi notice his slip-up.

He cursed himself, and his shitty mouth, so often escaping his control when he was with her. He'd always thought it wise not to say such things to her. Not out loud. Never out loud. There was no need to express any more explicitly what a wreck she had made him.

But Nora didn't seem to mind, in her current state. Not enough to stop, anyway.

"Come on," she ground out, half moan and half whine, impatient and eager and so ready for him.

A groan was wrested from him, and he bit her shoulder, making her gasp. He lifted one of her legs by hooking his arm under the back of her knee, brought it up against the tiles, and thrust into her.

"Yes," Nora cried out, and that was about the only word Levi could currently think. Pure bliss pumped through his veins, surging up with each movement, erasing his awareness of his surroundings, of the outside world. This was his world now; this woman, this moment.

Fuck, but how she felt all around him. The things she was doing to him. While he was moving inside her in a relentless rhythm, she turned her head, weaving her fingers in his hair to pull him into a kiss, open and unrestrained, sweeping her tongue over his. At the same time, she pushed her magnificent ass tighter against him, joining them even deeper.

"A menace," he groaned again once he broke their kiss to get some air, their tempo increasing.

The moment her orgasm overpowered her, he let go, as well, and gladly so. He didn't have a choice, with her pulsing around him, so unbearably soft yet tense and tight, and moaning and spurring him on, her wet back against his front. Waves of ecstasy wrecked his body, hotter than the water. The leg she was standing on almost gave out, and he held her upright with his arm firmly around her waist as he worked her through their shared release, driving them both to new heights with fast, deep strokes.

Maybe she'd had a point, earlier, Levi vaguely thought once they slowed down and he came back to his senses. Perfect as this was, he would have paid good money to see her face now.

Only when they stopped moving and Nora's body relaxed in his embrace, her breathing still erratic, did he become aware of the spray of the shower again.

What a fucking glorious way to waste some water.

###

"I… I think I just died a little," Nora said when they separated, finally making use of the shower the intended way, washing off the remains of their activities. Her knees were still wobbly.

"That would be one hell of a way to bite the dust," Levi said, one corner of his lips lifting as he handed her a washcloth and soap.

"Bite the dust?" She chuckled weakly. "The perfect turn of phrase for you."

He just gave a noncommittal grunt instead of the expected snappy retort. Sex always mellowed him out somewhat, afterwards. Apparently, even he wasn't entirely immune to the aftereffects of a good orgasm.

Later, when they were lying in bed, cast in warm light and shadows by the lamp on the bedside table, Levi asked what she had feared he would ask.

"Do I even want to know what brought this about?"

Her heartbeat accelerated. "Probably not." Using his arm as a pillow, she snuggled closer to his side, hiding her face.

"Tell me anyway," he demanded without a moment's hesitation.

Nora was silent for a full minute. Her embarrassment aside, she worried he would get angry; he might see it as an invasion of his privacy—but what was she going to do when they shared a desk, just like they shared practically everything? She hadn't been snooping. She'd never even thought there was something to snoop on. Owed to a combination of his past and his unequalled pragmatism, Levi wasn't big on personal belongings. It began and ended with his wardrobe. And a few knives, if that even counted, one of which he had given her. And there were the teacups, of course. The teacups that were the reason for her unremarkable note he had somehow, unfathomably, kept. A useless note she had barely wasted more than a thought on, its only purpose to let him know where the dishes had come from, and that they were for him. She still couldn't wrap her head around it, and it still warmed her from the inside out.

But as far as she knew, Levi owned no letters, pictures, trinkets, or any of the sort, not from his life in the Underground or after. He had likely never possessed such things. While Nora, at least, had two boxes. Two small boxes that were all that was left from her parents, one of which was filled with notes and books from a father she had never even known, stolen—no, procured—from the Rosenberg estate after the coup. The other contained a few letters from her mum, two pieces of jewellery that had belonged to her—of mainly sentimental value—and exactly three framed pictures. The oldest, in which Nora wasn't even two, was the only one with her father in it, featuring all three of them.

Compared to Levi, she was lucky, and life wasn't fair. But her sympathy would be of no use to him. In fact, he either admonished her for it and deemed the sentiment unnecessary, or he avoided her eyes when he found it in her expression after telling her something from his past, so she always did her best to hide it. It was easier for both of them, and she was sure he knew; he knew that she didn't feel sorry for him, she just… felt for him.

"I'm waiting," he said, turning on his side to face her—the bastard must damn well know that made it harder for her, harder to answer and harder to escape an answer.

Somehow, when he asked… Nora couldn't just not answer. No matter the nature of the question. And only in part because he was really, really insistent. She always felt like he deserved an answer, all the answers she could possibly give. And if she were ever comfortable sharing anything related to literally any feeling other than anger, it would be with him—incidentally the worst offender in evoking said feelings in the first place. It was because, in a way—and she couldn't find a better description for it—Levi felt like an extension of her own mind, like an extension of herself. Which was a strange, icky, too intimate thought to have, something she'd had a hard time admitting to herself, but it was as true as could be. He simply understood, if she talked or not.

With a deep intake of air, Nora braced herself. "I went through the desk because I was looking for ink."

He blinked at her with tired eyes, trying to suss that one out. "Weird thing to get horny over, but I'll take it," he deadpanned.

"Idiot." She gave a weak, half-hearted shove to his bare chest, quickly growing serious again, watching him carefully as she admitted, "I found the note."

It took no more than a second for his features to tighten and his eyes to flash silver in understanding, which was already very telling on its own.

"So?" he asked, as if it was nothing to him, as if she was pointing out the most obvious thing.

"You kept it. You even took it with you from Trost to here." She sounded just as incredulous as she still felt. Her fist closed around her necklace for a brief instant. She hadn't yet taken it off to put it on the nightstand, as she usually did before going to bed. Somehow, she had felt like keeping it on.

"Stop being so surprised about trivial shit like this," Levi told her, frowning. He fidgeted a little, tangling his legs in the blanket covering them from the hips down, when normally he lay as motionless as a rock. "Or not, I guess. I can deal with the outcome."

Despite his offhand answer, his discomfort was evident. Nora was baffled at what she saw as a reversal of their usual roles.

What a crazy fucking day.

The note, and now this clear admission of sentimentality. And…

He had called her love, in a deep, deep voice that was raspy and silky at the same time. It had melted her insides right then and there.

Nothing special during sex for other people, perhaps, and nothing to be taken entirely literally, nothing to put too much weight behind. But it was them, and this had never happened before. Terms of endearment didn't exist in Levi's vocabulary, only plenty of idiots and nutcases and lunatics and the likes. Had she not been so incredibly aroused, by then, she would totally have freaked out. It was scary as hell, and she was quite certain it would give her additional fodder for her nightmares, nightmares of loss and death and pain and horror. Yet, at the same time, the memory alone made her pulse race in what could only be delirious joy.

They had fallen silent. Levi was probably waiting for her to doze off. There was no chance in hell, though. Nora let her thoughts wander, drifting to other nights they had shared similar conversations; confessions of whatever kind and stories of the past.

Might as well continue, when they had already laid themselves bare tonight, in every sense.

"What was your mother like?" she asked because she had long since wanted to, caressing his biceps with her fingertips.

Outwardly, nothing about him changed, no tension anywhere in his body. He broke their eye contact, however, directing his gaze sideways.

"Warm. Kind. Outspoken. Loving." And there was a variation of that word again. They all sounded strange and unfamiliar in his voice. "It's been so long I barely remember her face… But I think I looked a bit like her when I was a kid. Even Kenny said so, once. That's where the similarities end, though."

It surprised Nora little that she found herself disagreeing. "I'm not so sure about that."

He raised a brow at her in disbelief. "Now aren't we funny, today?"

"I'm being serious. You're certainly outspoken, aren't you?" She smiled, watching her hand stroke up and down along his arm. "As for the rest… There's more than one way to be those things." She blushed slightly.

Levi scoffed. "I'm pretty certain anyone you ask would disagree." After a moment's deliberation, he added, "And Hange doesn't count, seeing as she has just as many screws loose as you."

"Well, you may not be friendly—but you are kind. I've seen it often enough. You're just… selective with it."

"I'm a murderer," he replied, unapologetic and brutal, almost making her flinch.

Her hand ceased moving, and she met his eyes, determined to make him see the truth. "Yeah, me too."

"You are a soldier." His biceps flexed beneath her palm, as hard as his gaze, like cold steel. "I haven't always been."

"I don't see any difference. I made my own decisions, just like you did. I know you always have a reason, for everything you do."

She expected he might bring up body count next—and she would have replied how that could change in an instant—but instead, he said something she couldn't dispute. "That reason wasn't always necessity, though."

"I don't care," she insisted without hesitating, and she couldn't give a damn about how unsettlingly true this was. "I know you."

She knew him, she saw him—all the parts, even the ugliest. They didn't scare her. They didn't repel her. That wasn't possible. The sum of his parts made him the man he was. It was all Levi, and therefore, it was also a part of her.

He did not contradict her. That time was long past.

The hard lines of his mouth and jaw softened a bit. "That, you do. Just as I know that you are a madwoman."

"So what." She shrugged, eager to steer the conversation back into safer territory. This subject just felt too intimate, somehow. Besides, she wanted to return the favour; he had shared, and so would she. Even if it still cost her some effort. It was always worth it, in the end.

"My mum and I weren't much alike at all," she told him, voice soft, averting her eyes and resuming her soft caresses across his arm, his chest. "She was very… energetic and forthcoming. And much more easygoing than me. But if she disagreed with something, she would always say it to your face. That's why she'd clash with some people, or why the two of us would clash, sometimes." She swallowed around the knot in her throat. "Still, she was my best friend."

"Sounds a lot like Hange," Levi said, pensive.

Something about this statement made Nora's heart heavy with sadness. "Hange is one of a kind. But yes; every now and then, she reminds me of my mother." Despite the lingering melancholy, her lips stretched into a grin as another thought occurred to her. She searched his heavy-lidded gaze. "I don't think she would have liked you very much."

"Astonishing."

"Not like you think. It's just that... I'm quite sure she would have thought that someone more… upbeat would be better for me."

There, a tad of expressiveness returned to Levi's features, his frown returning as his mouth twisted in distaste. "Like that tall and handsome ginger dipshit."

Nora rolled her eyes at him, suppressing another grin. "His name is Peter."

"I don't give a damn."

Only after several seconds Nora said, quietly, "She would have been wrong, though. Not that it isn't blatantly obvious."

"Could be," Levi murmured, grazing his knuckles over her cheek, once.

AN: Frankly stated, I think how they fuck is a part of the complete, intimate picture of a couple's dynamic, and I like that so much can be communicated with those scenes—to the reader and between the characters—which is the non-horny reason why I enjoy fiction including them, lol. I'll never deny they're also simply exciting to read. Gimme that chemistry!

Also, my Word document for this has reached about 400 book pages. With OMWF, that's almost 1000 pages into this series. I'm still very much not done. What I mean to say is, this has got long, and it's a lot to read. Are you still there? If so, that's crazy.