Chapter 13. Whole Lotta Love
A/N: What have I written...
Armin cast a wary glance around the room before his eyes landed on the sole inhabitant. Mikasa sat in the window alcove, her knees draw up, nose buried in a book. She hadn't noticed him yet.
It felt odd to be standing in the Lance Corporal's chambers without a summon, let alone without the man himself present. It was even stranger still to see Mikasa there, who seemed rather familiar with the environment. Maybe it was the sleepy, afternoon sun that blanketed the room in a warm light, but there was a definite air of comfort to the scene before him.
An intimacy.
The captain's collection of books was something most people did not know about, so for Mikasa to be poring over one of the volumes suggested she had either reached a certain level of recklessness or her relationship with Heichou had fundamentally changed.
"Are you alone?" His voice was barely above a murmur, and yet she visibly jumped, the book in her hands slamming shut.
She regarded him for a few beats, thoughts churning behind those dark eyes. "You're probably wondering why I'm here," she said at last, ignoring his question and looking back down at the tome in her lap. He couldn't read the title from his position at the door.
"You're not wondering how I found you?"
Mikasa smiled—that rare, genuine beam that lit up her whole face and touched her eyes. "You're far too clever, Armin. I stopped wondering how you do things a long time ago."
He returned her smile. This was why they were friends.
"And, yes, I'm alone." Her smile faded ever so slightly, and she tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear.
Reassured that the Lance Corporal wasn't observing him, Armin stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
Yes, it did feel quite odd to be in here. Mikasa seemed to sense his discomfort. "Levi asked me to dust his room every once and awhile. He said I could borrow a book as a sort of recompense."
Levi? Oh, things had definitely changed. That explained why he'd seen her steal away to the captain's quarters as of late.
Armin took a seat opposite her in the nook, trying not to appear too uncomfortable. She didn't seem to be aware of his awkwardness, however, her gaze solemn and preoccupied by something outside. "If you want to be alone right now…"
Mikasa shook her head, brow furrowing as she continued to stare out the window. When she spoke, her voice was tight, her teeth clenched to keep the emotion at bay. "I've never felt so enraged yet utterly helpless before, Armin."
He sighed, chest clenching in anguish. "We don't know for certain that Rubie is the head of the Redeemers," he offered, but she was already shaking her head.
"Yes, we do. I get we're waiting for proof, but we fucking know."
Armin didn't know what to expect when he was called into Erwin's office two days ago. Discovering that Rubie, fiancée to Eren and apple of his eye, was under suspicion of being the Red Woman hadn't even been in the top ten possibilities he'd entertained.
In retrospect, in made sense. Didn't make the news easier to swallow, however.
Mikasa sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. "I know how it looks, Armin. I have this...history with Eren, and now I suddenly suspect his fiancée is the leader of an underground terrorist group." She watched him with vulnerable eyes, her fingers picking nervously at the wrapping of her splint. "But it's the fact that she's approached me now of all times. I mean, we've always been polite in each other's company, but we're certainly not friends." She scoffed and added, "if anything, she seemed to respect the history Eren and I have and therefore gave me a wide berth."
Armin nodded his agreement; it was true that while the two women had probably only spoken a few words to each other before now, there never appeared to be any bad blood. An unspoken truce. He reached out his hand and took hers. "Mikasa. I believe you. And while I do think the Commander is right to wait for Captain Levi to confirm our suspicions, that doesn't mean I doubt your intuition." He gave her hand a squeeze, adding, "besides, with or without the captain's corroboration, we already knew someone would attempt to get close to you. Given what we know about this Redeemer woman, Rubie fits the bill."
Her eyes swam, but she kept the tears in check, turning her hand over to clasp their fingers together. "I hate lying to Eren."
And there lay the crux of their discontent. Commander Smith, once again, was adamant about keeping Eren in the dark, at least until there was irrefutable evidence. And really, it was for Eren's own safety; he was closer than anyone to Rubie, and if she suspected he knew something…
Perhaps what was more painful than lying to his friend was picturing Eren's devastation when he finally did learn the truth.
"I know," Armin sighed. "I feel like I'm betraying him in the worst way."
Mikasa made a quick swiping motion at her face, erasing a rogue tear before it could fall down her cheek. "I'm worried he'll never forgive us."
This was a fear Armin shared, that their friend would never be able to look them the same way again. "I assume he's finally told you about the wedding?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he was a little nervous I could tell, but then he…" a broken laugh escaped her, eyes welling again. "Oh, Armin, he really loves her."
Armin closed his eyes, as if he could shut out the words. "I'm sorry Mikasa. That must have been difficult for you."
Another laugh, this one not as devastated. "It's not that. I thought it would be, but it wasn't. I mean, it's more like I'm aware that those feelings used to be there." She pawed absently at her neck. "But now...I just see how much this will hurt him, and I feel powerless to stop it."
"It's not your fault, Mikasa. And you can't stop it." The damage is already done. "Commander Smith is making preparations for an infiltration unit. We have to be ready to move."
He watched that steely resolve reassemble itself across his friend's face, her jaw setting, eyes hardening. "I'm supposed to meet Rubie tomorrow evening to go dress shopping."
She said the word with such distaste that Armin couldn't help but laugh. "Is it the activity or the company that offends you?"
"Both."
"But you've worn dresses, you like dresses!"
"Not as much anymore." She shook her head, but a grin fought to claim her mouth. "And it's for her wedding. It just feels weird."
"Well, there you go. You don't even need to try anything on, just stand there and nod politely at the options. That's what we men do."
"Yeah, you're right." Mikasa gave in to her smile, shaking her head at a thought. "Besides, Levi will be there to confirm whether or not our suspicions of her are correct, and I can only imagine what he'll have to say about the whole thing."
Armin grinned for an entirely different reason, no longer able to keep his musings to himself. "Ah, I see."
She was onto him immediately, smile gone and eyes narrowed. "What."
This was always how this kind of thing went. Mikasa could hide a lot, but even she couldn't keep everything from him, and when he had a theory, it was only a matter of time before he had needled the truth out of her. Her usual defense in those moments was either righteous indignation or to shut down completely.
But Armin had years of practice wearing down her walls.
"Oh, nothing, really." It was his turn to look out the window. "I just find it interesting how comfortable you've gotten with Heichou."
He could almost hear her eyes popping out of her head. She proceeded to huff and ramble to the contrary—righteous indignation, as predicted—her disgruntlement only increasing when he gave her a side-glancing smirk.
"Just what are you suggesting, Armin?" Her face was grim, an expression that made most people—himself included, at times—cower in fear.
"I'm not suggesting anything! I mean it. I was just commenting on how comfortable you seem."
"I'm not comfortable."
"Well, not right now, maybe."
Mikasa groaned and removed herself from the window, taking the book with her. Armin finally caught the title: Poetry from Karanes. Interesting.
"I'm doing the best I can to adapt to having someone else inside my head, and I think the fact that we haven't killed each other yet is no small miracle," she groused, her back to him as she approached the bookshelf against the far wall.
"This is true." Armin felt the slightest twinge of guilt. Only the slightest. "I think it's admirable how the two of you have made this thing work. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must be." He paused for effect. "So for the two of you to leave past grievances behind you and become friends is quite wonderf—"
Mikasa spun around like a cat who'd gotten its tail stamped on. "We are not friends." There was a warning in her tone, book of poetry clutched against her chest like some kind of shield. Gotcha.
"What are you then?" Direct, no more pretense, though he maintained his smile.
She seemed to falter here, to actually search for an answer. Finally, her shoulders sagged, all previous animosity leaving her. "I don't know."
Armin left the window and approached his friend. "I'm sorry, my intention wasn't to interrogate you, Mikasa." He grasped her broken arm gently, fixing a section of gauze that she had plucked loose. "I just want you to be happy."
He fully expected her to gainsay his words, but she only averted her gaze, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Are you happy, Armin?"
Her question took him by surprise. Armin had been so preoccupied with breaching her defenses that he'd forgotten about his own. She had that unnervingly observant look in her eye. Like she could see straight through him.
"Stressed, tired, but those are all superficial issues," he deflected with a shrug. Her expression didn't change. Oh, how quickly the tables could turn. "I'm worried, mainly. About you...about Eren."
Mikasa looked down at the book in her hands, tracing over its leather face with her thumbs. "He's going to need you," she said suddenly, voice soft.
"What?"
"Eren. After all this is over. He will need someone to be there."
Her words disturbed him, in part because she was speaking as if she wouldn't be there.
"Promise me, Armin." She was crying. "I love you both so much."
He pulled her to his chest, his own tears falling onto her dark hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist, the book pressing into his back as she clung to him. "Mikasa…nothing is going to happen to you."
A great, shuddering sigh escaped her. "I'm not talking about me. This doesn't have anything to do with me." She smiled up at him, and it was like his heart was ripping in two.
"I...I'm sorry." He didn't know why he was apologizing. For the pain she felt? A pain which he knew all too acutely himself? Maybe he wasn't even apologizing.
Mikasa shook her head, a tear sliding down her pale cheek. "No, Armin." She was about to say more, but her chin trembled too violently, so she only looked at him with those big, dark eyes. He embraced her again, tucking her head under his chin. They stood like that, just breathing, watching dust motes dance through the sunlight.
She sensed his presence this time.
"Don't throw anything at me."
"I'm not armed." She'd meant to be droll, but the words ended up sounding more dejected, so she added, "save for this," and held up the book.
There was a pause before he murmured a desultory, "you alright?"
She had composed herself after Armin left, but her chest still felt like there was a gaping hole where her heart should be.
"I'm fine." She gestured vaguely about the room. "I dusted, by the way."
When Levi didn't respond, she figured he was preoccupied with scrutinizing a spot she'd missed, and prepared to defend her botched cleaning job. The words died on her tongue, however, when she turned from the window and found him already watching her.
"Thank you."
It was her turn for bafflement. Astonishment, really, because Mikasa couldn't ever remember him thanking anyone. A "well done," perhaps after an expedition, or a spar, or not dying, but never a thank you, and never to her. Had he even looked at the room?
"It's probably not to your standards, but at least the place isn't buried in dust."
He nodded, but the motion was more a gesture of gratitude than agreement. First he apologizes, now he's thanking me.
She couldn't think of any reason he could have for showing up now; he'd pretty much said his piece that night in the training room. The last time they had spoken was two days ago when she'd connected to him from Erwin's office. The interaction had lasted maybe ten minutes—just enough time to inform him of the Rubie situation and Erwin's plan for moving forward.
"Oi, Mikasa."
She'd forgotten he was there, the gentle rasp of his voice making her start. "Sorry, I was in my head."
"I know. I'm up there too." He picked up one of the teacups off his desk and regarded it, passing it from one hand to the other before putting it down again. It was almost like he was...fidgeting. Why didn't he just leave already?
"What are you doing here?" She knew her tone was brusque, but this was not behavior she associated with him and it was making her mildly uncomfortable.
"You called me."
"What?"
"I sensed you, so I woke the connection." He leaned against the desk, fingers tapping an distrait beat into the wood. "You seemed upset."
"You sensed I was upset?"
"I think we're beyond questioning the ins and outs of this whole thing, Ackerman." A very Levi reply, and she found it oddly reassuring.
Well, no point in pretenses. "Eren will never forgive me when he finds out I kept this from him."
Levi sighed. "If the brat has any sense he'll understand why you kept it from him," and then quieter, under his breath, "you coddle him too much."
There was a time not too long ago when his words would have riled her, but she couldn't find the energy to get defensive now. "I suppose you're right."
His head snapped to her. "I'm sorry?" She had agreed with him. He hadn't been expecting that.
"I said you're right, I need to let go of some things. Old habits die hard, I guess."
He still wasn't leaving. Why wasn't he leaving? He could leave. He knew how.
It was his room; maybe she should leave instead. In fact, Hanji had been wanting her to test what would happen to their connection if they moved far enough apart. "Did you...want something?"
Gray eyes lifted to look at her, and he made an affirmative sound—a low hum at the back of his throat. "There are a few things I want." He looked back at the teacup. "A good cup of tea, for starters."
Oh, so he wanted to play coy.
Mikasa seethed, setting her book down on the desk with deliberate slowness. He watched the movement, eyes not meeting hers. "I'll tell you what I want," she said, keeping her voice low and even as she crossed around the corner of the desk. "I want you to stop yanking me around."
He did look at her then, and she saw the briefest flicker of surprise on his face.
"I don't like being held at arm's length." To punctuate her point, she stepped forward into his space.
"Don't." The word was a rumble in his chest, a warning, and yet his face was impossibly blank.
"What, get too close?" she hissed, gritting her teeth to keep her anger at bay. "What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid, brat." His face twisted into a scowl, and he leaned forward as if to show he wouldn't be backing down. "But you can't afford to lose perspective on what's important—"
"Oh, bull-fucking-shit!" Now she was mad. She jabbed her finger into his chest, hammering her words home. "You're the one who's losing perspective."
Levi batted her hand away, pushing past her and crossing to the window. "Don't forget yourself, Ackerman. You're a soldier first," he growled, "act like one."
Despite his words, his voice lacked its previous vitriol. She followed him to the window. She wouldn't allow him to escape, not when she was wearing him down like this.
"I am. It's you who is acting like a coward."
His shoulders stiffened, and he slowly turned his head to look at her. He didn't speak, just regarded her with that predacious expression. He was waiting to see if she'd balk and back away with her tail tucked between her legs. He could say more with those eyes than most men could with their words. He must have known how unnerving it was when he looked at people that way. The fading sunlight cast shadows over the angular planes of his face, highlighting the severity of his expression.
She saw, much to her shock, that there were flecks of blue in his eyes. How had she never noticed before? They certainly weren't Erwin's startling shade of azure, but in this light, this close to his face, she could clearly make out the deeper colors in his irises. What was it...steel-blue?
Levi inhaled slowly as if he was going to speak, and her gaze dropped to his mouth, an odd yet familiar sensation fluttering in her gut. He tore away from her again, a pained sound escaping him. Just where he thought he was going was beyond her. He could've easily cut the connection. He'd done it before. And yet...
"Hey!" She snapped at his retreating back, a strange quaver in her voice. "Look at me." He stopped mid step and turned his head, giving her his profile. "Why did you push me away?" She spoke quieter, no longer shouting since she had his attention, and because that damn waver threatened to break her voice. Why was she so upset?
"You know why," came his terse reply, eyes downcast and partially hidden beneath dark fringe.
Fury lit her chest aflame again, and the sudden urge to attack him like that night in the sparring room threatened to take over her senses. This was becoming ridiculous. She covered the distance he had put between them in three long strides, grabbing the coarse fabric of his shirt in her fists and yanking him to face her. She watched as his incredulity quickly gave way to a rage of his own, and she was finally met with the full intensity of those orbs.
No, not rage. Not entirely. His eyes were like smoke, burning and hot…and yes, she did know why.
"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it," she bit through gritted teeth, voice low but devoid of its former anger. There was a desperation to it now. Anticipation.
Levi glared back at her with those gray-blue eyes, unblinking, unmoving. Finally, he huffed a breath through his nose and shook his head. "Fuck it all."
Mikasa met him midway, their lips connecting in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Not that she really cared in that moment. She just needed more of him, couldn't press herself close enough.
Unlike the kiss, his hair was incredibly, incredibly soft. She tangled her hands through it, feeling where his undercut was beginning to grow out. A groan escaped him when her fingers scraped over the back of his head. He gripped at her waist, hands sliding beneath the fabric of her shirt. She gasped against his mouth when he suddenly hoisted her onto the desk, the tea set rattling at the impact. Neither of them paid it any mind. His hands left her waist to slide over the curve of her ass, and she wrapped her legs around his back, trapping him against her.
This was...unlike anything she'd done before. Her first kiss had been a dismal experience she'd kept locked in the back of her mind, labeled as nothing more than just that—an experience. Done. Accomplished. Lesson obtained. Jean Kirschtein had been more than willing but even less capable, though she couldn't fault him for trying.
Don't think about Kirschtein.
Levi groaned when she nibbled his lower lip, and she used the parting of his mouth to meet his tongue with her own. His hold on her hips tightened, pulling her against him closer still, and she felt—
Oh.
An electrifying sensation shot through Mikasa's body like a lightning bolt, and she broke the kiss abruptly despite her better judgement. Levi blinked at her with an unfocused gaze, his breath warm and mingling with hers.
And then he stopped. Stopped breathing, stopped moving.
Clarity dawned in his eyes—a mix of confusion and alarm—and suddenly they were both scrambling apart. He opened his mouth to speak only to shut it again, and at first she thought maybe he was thinking of giving her another apology. She would surely throw the tea set if he did that.
"This is what I…" Levi gestured at the space between them as he fumbled for the words. He gave up searching and turned away, running his hands through his hair. "I wanted to avoid this."
To her utter horror, Mikasa felt her eyes burn, and she was thankful he had turned his back. The apology would have been better—actually, she wanted it now. She fixed her rumpled shirt, used the task to blink the irritating moisture from her eyes. "Because you're afraid." He whipped his head to look at her, but she spoke again before he could, voice resolute as she approached him. "I was angry before when I called you a coward, but now I see that I was correct."
"Mikasa—"
Her hand on his chest silenced him. So, she'd called him here. Certainly she could send him back. "As much as I'd like to continue this little exchange, I think it best we pause." She watched a series of emotions chase each other behind his eyes. "I need time to gather my perspective."
She had thrown him from her. Thrown him.
Levi glared up at the space where she had been, her outline burned into his retinas like some brilliant flash of light. He was sitting on his ass in the middle of the cell. In the dirt. Like a dog. He collapsed onto his back, sighing in frustration.
He was frustrated. And impossibly aroused, and that was just gonna have to be his problem.
Coward.
Fuck, she was right, though, of course she was; bond or no bond, the attraction was there, and denying it wouldn't make it go away. He should have known that she wouldn't just let it be, that she wouldn't let him get away with shutting down or some other bullshit. Then again, when had she ever? That same mouth that had kissed him—oh, how she'd kissed him—had cut him down to size with unyielding ferocity. She had kissed him back, met his every stride and then some. Levi had never, ever wanted someone in this way.
Laying in the dirt, his blood cooling, the remnants of their connection flickering against his mind, Levi realized that the bond was just an excuse, that even without it he wouldn't have been able to hide from her. She'd seen right through him from day one—taken one glance at him and seen the true form that lay beneath his carefully constructed facade.
Mikasa Ackerman had always been there. And he'd just been too blind to see it. She'd gotten closer, seen more than almost anyone ever had and ever would.
But mostly, she'd made him tremble. An unprecedented thing.
"Levi, are you alright?" came Dennard's small voice from the cell opposite. "Did you fall?"
He rolled onto his hands and knees, cursing the dust on his trousers and making a mental note to never, ever make Mikasa Ackerman angry ever again . Not unless he was well out of shoving range. "Fuck ." He still couldn't believe it. "What the fuck, Ackerman?" And, really, he didn't know which of them he addressed.
Coward.
"What?" Dennard's face was pressed between the bars of her cell, her amber gaze searching blindly.
He sighed and stepped toward the barred door. "I said, that woman is a fucking pain in my ass."
A/N: No Ackersmut. Yet. Just whetting the palate. Also, this is unbeta'd, so any glaring errors fall completely on my insomnia-addled incompetence.