Hey everyone! Sorry for not updating this in a while; my finals are approaching and I need to focus on school, so I didn't have much time last weekend to answer your reviews, but know that I'll try to reply to them from now on as soon as they get to me!

This is an Office!AU update! I've decided to rename this as Casual Affair, inspired by Panic! At The Disco's song.

So here is the thing: I've been feeling emotional lately for lady reasons and this is the only excuse I have for the final product I managed to create. Also, bell peppers are actually fruits; yes, shocking I know (I had to stop writing to recollect my thoughts) so remember that when you see that Levi put sliced fruits in the frying pan. And there is no sexy time... Yet. I'm gonna update Icarus or The Baby next, I don't know which one yet or when, but I will.

Casual Affair (Office!AU): Devil Of A Boss, Cancelled Plans, Confessions

The Baby: Silence, Assurances, Truth

Icarus: Found

Thank you for reading, and enjoy! xx

VIII: Office!AU: Confessions

Chimes sound from somewhere inside the flat and Mikasa steps away from the door, hand falling from the doorbell to hold the box from the bakery with both hands. Thanks to his lovely invitation, she had no other option than ditch Eren's birthday party to spend the night working with her boss; her brother, although disappointed, had understood her reasons and made her promise she would arrive in time to eat at least one slice of cake (a slice she knew he would save for her regardless of the time she arrives, and keep it well away from Sasha's hungry eyes).

Another thing that she couldn't run away from was to (finally) do her laundry. Her apartment is much cleaner and tidier now that all her skirts and dress shirts are either hanging to air dry or folded and returned to where they belong. So the young woman now stands right before Levi's front door, dressed in one of the pencil skirts that she missed dearly, with a lemon tart (the only dessert he really enjoys, she keeps on repeating to herself) in the rectangular white box.

The lock clicks as it is turned, and the door is pulled back to reveal the shorter figure of her boss, one simple black apron over his white linen shirt and grey slacks. He beckons her inside with a jerk of his head, she doesn't miss when his eyes fall on the box in her hands, and there is a hardly visible smile on her lips when she walks past him and he closes the door. Mikasa follows him to the kitchen, where ingredients are neatly placed about on the counter and a half sliced onion sits on his dark cutting board made of tempered glass. Levi doesn't waste a second to return to his task, and as he cuts the bulb his guest opens the fridge and deposits the dessert inside, knowing well by now that she doesn't need to ask for permission.

"I didn't think you'd come," he says in a casual tone, blinking his eyes rapidly at the stinging sensation.

Mikasa pulls back one of the stools by the counter and crosses her ankles once she's seated. "I didn't have another choice."

He rubs his right eye with the back of his hand. "You could have ditched me instead."

She scoffs, elbows perched on the cold granite and chin resting on her entwined fingers; had he not voiced his words flatly, they would have actually made her feel bad. "And risk getting fired?" Her tongue clicks against her teeth just in time with his; her smirk isn't seen, neither is his frown. "Not a chance, sir."

"You know I don't," he gathers the onion rings at the center of the board with his knife, the blade lightly scrapping the glass, "mix personal matters with job issues." Air rushes out her lungs through her nose, silently and slowly, and Mikasa tilts her head down to rub her fingertips on her forehead. It's going to be a very long night and not the first one in which he uses the excuse of "too much paperwork" to be with her alone and try to bring up the topic of their messed up relationship. "Eren is your priority, isn't he?"

Levi tosses the onions in a large frying pan and drizzles olive oil all over them, body stiff as he puts the heavy bottle away and sets the fire to medium-low. "We've already discussed this," she says, voice strained and dry to hide her mental weariness.

"Have we?" He knows he won't get an answer and doesn't want one, but he asks anyway because the subject has been suffocating him for a long time.

"Yes," she can't be sure anymore if they're talking about Eren being her priority, or if the words refer to their casual, secret affair; it always starts like this and never gets anywhere. "Yes, we have." The man standing with his back to her hums almost absentmindedly, but she knows every nerve and cell of his body is on alert and restless.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip and he doesn't say anything, only places each shrimp one at a time on the pan and covers it with a lid. Mikasa watches as he reaches for a green bell pepper and starts cutting it, and she tucks a strand of inky black hair behind her ear before rising from the stool. "Let me help you."

"You don't need to," but she is already on her way to the sink, and Levi can only sigh at her stubbornness. Water glides over her skin as she rubs dish soap on her palms and the back of her hands, foam swirls down the drain and she doesn't notice when the knife cuts through the fruit with more strength than before.

Mikasa knows where to find another cutting board and sharp knife, and situates herself beside his form, closer to the washed and cleaned bell peppers than him, and picks a yellow one to start with. It feels like a routine, one that she is comfortable with, to stand beside him and prepare the same meal again, the one he always picks when she comes over to work, because she, accidentally, once said that she had loved it. He is as preoccupied in cooking shrimps with bell peppers as she is in buying the same lemon tart from the same bakery; they often worry about pleasing the other in more ways than one.

Levi, on his part, tries not to think of how familiar she is with his apartment. He gave her his permission to make herself feel at home once they were actually comfortable in each other's presence, and that permission turned into a full green pass to do whatever she pleased after the first time he took her, there behind the closed door of his office some weeks ago. She knew where to find pens, keys, bills, even knew in which drawer he kept his underwear. Mikasa was the one who sorted out his ties by color, then after that she had picked a red one and slung it over his neck, and moved her mouth hungrily against his as she guided him back to his bed.

He doesn't understand it. Sometimes he wants to, but thinks better of it and decides to let it pass, once, twice, thrice, enough times until all these thoughts fill his mind to the brim and threaten to spill from his ears. She dives in head first, gives herself to him and takes some of him in return, she voices her pleasure, touches him just the way he likes, and after they're done she retreats back into her shell, and doesn't even tease him back when he tries to. They come and go, get together only to break apart, and Levi never thought he would need her to make up her mind before he went crazy.

The knife cuts through empty air and he realizes with a start that he has already cut all the bell peppers, and hastily moves them over to a plate where Mikasa can put her own slices, and only then does he add the fruits to the cooking shrimp and onion rings. His guest is by the sink again washing the dirty utensils, and Levi's hands are flat on the dark granite of his counter and he takes in deep, even breaths to soothe his senses. It doesn't work.

Finally, he decides to speak. "What are you so afraid of?"

Mikasa could have done a better job in hiding how his words affected her, but fate wasn't on her favor and the knife slips from her fingers at the sound of his voice, hitting the bottom of the stainless iron sink with a sharp clang. Blindly, she reaches for the tap; water starts running and fills in the silence as she rinsed her hands, and soon it is silent again as she wipes them dry on the white dish towel. Levi repeats his words, and she detects the plea behind his guarded tone. "What are you so afraid of, Mikasa?"

She keeps her back to him, and he keeps his to hers, and the young woman forces air into her burning lungs. "I don't know," she confesses in a whisper, fingers curling tightly around the cloth in her hands. Mikasa hears when he breathes out, and his clothes shuffle when he shifts his weight.

"I think I can understand," he licks his lips, "why you are so hesitant." His adjutant remains silent and he pictures the way her chest rises and falls as she breathes, torso bare and naked back against his bed sheets. God damnit, god damnit.

This time she's the one who shifts, and Levi takes it as a sign to keep going. "I'm getting old, Mikasa. I'll be thirty eight by the end of the year; I am almost old enough to be your father."

He hears when her lips part and braces himself. "You think," she searches for the right words, and finds none, searches for air, but it seems to be scarce around her, so Mikasa nearly wheezes out the rest of her sentence; "You think your age is the problem?"

"Let's be honest now." Levi pushes away from the counter, and she moves away from the sink. They are in synchrony as they gravitate around and towards each other, moving accordingly and simultaneously. "I spent most of my life focusing on working and getting a better life. I can't expect to keep someone like you around at this point."

"Levi," no other words follow his name, and she averts her eyes almost shamefully for not finding the correct things to say. What is she so afraid of, she asks herself, and the answer is nowhere in sight, but still she hesitates and pushes him away, and at the same time brings him closer. Mikasa can feel his stare focused on her face, air rushes out her lungs until the muscles of her ribcage ache, and he's the one who speaks up again.

Her boss doesn't seem or sound much different than his usual self, but she knows he feels vulnerable opening up like this. She knows, because they are almost perfect reflections of each other, and because that's the way she feels at the moment. "There are much better and younger options out there, boys willing to give you the attention you deserve."

"I never," Mikasa lifts her eyes to his and holds his gaze, "thought you could be so insecure about yourself."

"I'm not insecure." He bites out, feeling almost insulted at her accusation. "I'm simply aware that I won't be able to entertain you for much longer."

Her pink mouth falls open; she seems incredulous. "You think you are only an entertainment?"

"Well, it certainly–"

"Levi!" She cuts him, voice high, and his lips seal shut. He finally sees her expression, takes time to examine it, and guilt starts pooling at the bottom of his stomach. Her teeth are painfully gritted together, her brows are drawn down over unusually bright pools of dark grey; Mikasa is deeply hurt by his words, and she for once is not hiding it.

He takes in a deep breath, one shaking hand running through his hair. Shit. "Mikasa, look, I'm–"

"Levi," her voice is just above a whisper and it is enough to make him go quiet again. He waits for her words and fists his hands by his sides, heart pounding in his chest, quick and hard enough to almost make him wince. "I don't want a boy," she says after a long pause and sucks in a shaky breath through parted lips; "I want a man."

The confession throws him completely off balance, and he feels abnormally heavy and dizzy as his mind processes her words, over and over, and when she speaks again he swears his heart ceases beating.

"I want you."

There's a ringing in his ears. It's loud, deafening, the world is still spinning around him, but she's standing right there, unmoving and waiting, hands tingling to be taken by his; she doesn't flinch when his unfocused gaze sweeps all over her form, and smiles encouragingly, one beautiful and blinding wide grin, when his eyes finally find hers and he seems to register that she is truly there.

So he moves forward, knots his fingers in her dark hair and brings her head down to his level, mouth slanting over hers hurriedly and hungrily, tongue caressing over her lips and slipping past them. It's clumsy, their teeth clink together more than once, and they smell of onion and bell peppers, but she is smiling when he pulls away to place a kiss on her forehead, and his lips brush against the skin of her cheek when he speaks. "We're doing it right this time." She nods, feeling incredibly emotional about the situation, yet she refuses to give it much thought and simply touches the back of his hands with her fingertips before letting her hands fall away.

"Come," he says again as his fingers trail down her arms towards her hands, and he holds them firmly. "Let's eat our dinner then we can go to Eren's birthday party." Levi seems to be done, but he adds as an afterthought. "But only if you go out on a real date tomorrow with me."

Mikasa agrees to his requirements with a chaste kiss on his lips.