Chapter two: Comfort Food
Levi groaned as the sunlight streaming through the curtains of his bedroom hit him like a smack in the face. Each movement made his head throb, and he supressed another groan, pushing off his bed and heading into the far too cramped bathroom to take a shower.
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Pacing the living room, Levi wondered what to do next. It was his day off today, hence why he could afford to go out and get dead drunk, but he had managed to do all his shopping, clean his apartment, and sleep off his terrible hangover all before one in the afternoon.
Collapsing onto the couch with a cup of coffee in tow, Levi lazily began to flick through different programs playing on the television, finding one that didn't completely bore him, his thoughts began to wander to the previous night's events.
Of all the luck he could've gotten, the annoyance who'd ass he'd easily beaten just had to live right next door. After the boy's attitude, Levi really couldn't blame himself for never going over to introduce himself to the new neighbours after his friend, Petra, had moved out. Sipping delicately at the coffee, he pondered about the boy. Even with his face bloodied and plastered to the concrete, he hadn't backed down, a fire in his eyes only growing brighter with each hit.
A sharp knock on the door almost made Levi spill the scalding coffee all over himself. Muttering angrily, he strode to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open with so much force it would have hit the wall if not for his hand, steadied on the knob. A growl left his throat.
Standing in the doorway was the boy from the bar, holding what appeared to be a lasagna. Glancing up at his face and back to the steaming tray in the boy's hands, he nearly slammed the door shut.
"I wanted to apologize," the boy blurted quickly, sensing the decision running through Levi's head. "My name is Eren, by the way. Um, here, this is for you. An apology lasagna." Levi suddenly felt his heart stutter, and when he opened his mouth his breath caught in his throat. All he could manage out was;
"An apology lasagna?" Taking it as an invitation, Eren strolled in through the door, and strangely enough, Levi shut the door behind him, despite the fact of his mind screaming at him to throw the fucker back out the way he came. Eren placed the lasagna on the stovetop, shaking out his pink-tinted hands. Levi stared quietly for a moment, before clearing his throat gently.
"I'm sorry. About your cheek, brat." Levi hastily bit out the term, sniffing loudly, walking back into the living room and reclaiming his seat. Eren plopped himself down, a seat between them, the only sounds in the apartment floating out of the T.V. "I'm Levi." Levi had simply felt like he needed to say it, since Eren had given him his.
"I know," Eren said quickly, having the courtesy to blush slightly. "I mean, uh- I read your nametag yesterday."
"Ah," Levi whispered, eyes flickering to Eren, a small, angry smirk plastering itself to his face. "So you really are a stalker. Even came to my house with a lasagna." Eren floundered, and Levi couldn't help but internally laugh at how easy it was to make this boy flustered.
"We should eat the lasagna before it gets cold," Eren finally said, trying very obviously to change the topic. Levi grunted, standing from the couch, heading for the kitchen with Eren following a little too closely behind him. Upon entering the small space, Levi opened a cabinet and stretched up to grab the plates, only for Eren to swoop in and simply hand them down to him. Levi's pale eyes flashed dangerously, and Eren muttered an apology.
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The pair sat at the tiny, white kitchen table, shoving forkfuls of warm food into their mouths. "Where do you work, though, to have a nametag like that?" Levi almost dropped his fork, looking at Eren curiously, who promptly wondered if they were going to have a repeat of last night in Levi's apartment. Sighing in irritation, Levi glared hard at the younger male.
"I work in a salon," he stopped, waiting for a reaction. Receiving none, he asked, "What about you?"
Eren swallowed the last bite on his plate. "I'm a police officer." A wry smile planted itself on his lips. "How old are you?" Now this was interesting. The boy was trying to get to know the man who had beaten him up in an alleyway better.
"Older than you." Eren waited. "I'm thirty-two. Your turn." Eren's smile grew a bit, thinking he had fully roped Levi in.
"Twenty-five. Just how tall are you, actually?" Tonight was going to be a long night. They continued to ask each other questions, where they were born, what their favourite food was, hobbies, schools they'd gone to, and just about anything else. Levi was surprised at how easily he talked to this boy, and how nice he was, he certainly hadn't seemed like this the night before.
"Okay. What were your parents like?" Eren asked, laughing softly. Levi had to stop for a moment before answering.
"Well… I had 'daddy issues', and my mom commit suicide when I was thirteen, my dad disappeared on my fifteenth birthday. Not that I bothered to look for him, though, the asshole." Eren nodded in slight understanding.
"My dad vanished just before I turned eleven. Police never found a trace of him, he was a good man. My mom died in a car accident shortly after that." Eren looked at his watch. "Well, it's late, so I'd better get going. Work tomorrow, you know?" Levi followed him to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open as Eren slipped out.
"Hey, brat. Come over tomorrow night. I'm making you an apology dinner. Be there." He slammed the door shut, unwilling to take no for an answer.
Eren blinked a few times, fishing his key from his sweater pocket with a laugh.
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Having dinner together soon became a regular occurrence for the pair more often at Levi's than not. It started out being only on weekends, then on days off too, and eventually every day as long as neither of them were busy. They alternated who made dinner.
Soon it progressed to dinner and chatting afterwards, sometimes with wine or coffee, or even going back to the bar where they'd met and grabbing a few drinks there (much to the bartender's shock). And then, it became lounging in Levi's living room, watching T.V or playing videogames.
One night, a couple months later, they were sitting on Levi's brand new couch, drinking red wine, chatting softly as the night grew on. Slowly, Eren found that he could barely focus on what Levi was saying. All he could think about was how silly his hair looked, how soft his lips might feel, how his skin was like beautiful porcelain.
Without even thinking, Eren leaned in, pressing his lips softly against Levi's. They were soft, warm, chapped. Levi went along with it for a moment, before pushing himself away and covering his mouth with his hand.
"I think you should leave," he said quietly. Eren, not wanting to hinder their friendship further, despite the fact it was probably broken beyond repair, set his wine down, got off the couch, and let himself out into the cool hallway.
He had never felt an emptiness like this before.