Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin.
Realism
They lie closer together than ever, clamped onto each other in a bed already meant for two, and still wouldn't have it any other way.
Her head is tucked again between his jawline and shoulder; still sharp, still bony. His lips are pressed to a familiar spot on the crown of her head and, this time, she's sure he's focused on the blaring red numbers of the clock, reading two o'nine in the morning.
"Well, Levi," His name rolls off her tongue just right, like it always did and will, "We made it. And you're as average as you said you'd be."
He answers with miffed snort and she feels the low rumble of a laugh in his throat. She joins in with a giggle, tracing the same shapes and patterns she did before onto his chest.
He is an average guy—nothing like he used to be—working an average office job, living an overall average life and she's the only extraordinary part of it all, although she denies it. She herself is working an average position as a History teacher, with the average routine of running across the street and down the block to the small coffee shop, where they collided again one day.
He was surprised, and his eyes gave it away, when he saw the same dark blonde hair and hazel eyes that he used to before she was taken away from him in that cruel, unforgiving world. She looked at him with the same astonishment before taking a few hesitant steps towards him. Amber eyes bore into coal as she whispered, "Captain?"
"I finally found you." He mumbles after a while and his lips burrow further into her hair. His hand firmly holds onto hers, stopping her invisible drawing once again, just to make sure she wouldn't slip away again, that she is there, that she is real. "It wasn't for nothing."
"No, Levi," is her light reply and she snuggles closer with assurance, "It was for something. That ideal world is real and we made it."
"Yeah… We made it, Petra."
Her grin reaches her eyes and he smiles for the first time since he was a child, both in this world and the last; those so many years, decades, centuries ago.
His fingers move from smoothing over her knuckles and drift to ghost over her ring finger, where an average (extraordinary) gold band fits perfectly.