A/N : Hey everyone, taking the time to thank everyone who has favorite/followed, every day I get new notifications and it warms my heart to know that so many of you are enjoying this! Reviews are always appreciated :) thank you!
The first rays of the sun pull him out of his restless sleep, the heaviness of his tired body making itself known the instant he opens his eyes. He takes a moment to listen to the morning birds outside of his window, feathered friends that keep him company whenever the day arrives too soon. The heat of his bed is surprisingly comforting, and Levi almost considers lingering in between the sheets, if not for a few more minutes. But despite his own weariness and the warm invitation of his futon, he leans up, letting the white cotton covers slip off of him.
He runs his hands through his hair and across his face, a sigh escaping his lips. Slowly, he pulls himself up to his feet and walks over to the window, sliding it open. He likes to think the white coat of winter is at its purest form at dawn: untouched, natural, glistening under the morning light. He lowers his eyes to the small, empty iron basin he has set on the large wooden edge of his window. Mechanically, he bends down to the cloth sachet on the floor and grabs from it a fistful of grains, which he puts inside of the smooth bowl. Taking a few steps back, he settles himself back onto his futon in a sitting position, crossing his legs and straightening his back, taking in the fresh air rushing through the opening against his bare chest. It doesn't take a while before the birds come peck at the round yellow granules and before Levi's mind slips back to Mikasa Ackerman.
He doesn't know how it all happened, how everything led to this one particular moment where the lines between teacher and student blurred. Over the weeks, their training had become something more than a simple exercise, something more than the perfecting of techniques. Their souls had bonded, two becoming one, and deep inside, he hated himself for letting it happen. Her rejection had been a wake up call, a gust of wind icing everything across its passage. He had been hurt at first, but quickly the feeling had been replaced by confusion and agitation. Now all that was left inside of him was the bitter taste of his own failure at keeping his emotions in check.
She is a stubborn brat, he thinks, impatient and obstinate, never taking no for an answer, never respecting orders if they do not appeal to her. She is strong, one of the strongest, but she is irresponsible, a danger on the battlefield, he had seen it first hand in combat. But what infuriates him more than anything else is how incapable she is of putting aside her personal feelings, discern her own judgement and logically assess situations. But it's precisely for that reason, too, that he had taken an interest in her and had decided to train her. For in a way, he'd seen so much of his past self in her, and so much of who he was today. He could see it now, that they were one and the same, that they mirrored each other and that both had a hard time accepting such a reflection.
The more time passed, the more he had started to know her and the more he knew, the more his heart gave in, without him realizing it, without him fully understanding it.
It's the sorrow deeply hidden inside her eyes that surfaces from time to time; the anger that inhabits her heart and possesses every fibre of her being; the way her silences speak a thousand words. How she frowns whenever she tries to focus on something, how she looks down at him, her chin raised high, curiosity spread on her face. The way she fights, the way she survives, the way she lives.
Levi glances at the clock on his wall and stands up imperturbably. With slow controlled movements, he pulls the covers back over his bed and neatly tucks it under the mattress, running a hand over the wrinkled sheets to smooth it out. When he is done, he puts his clothes on, gently, fingers lightly running against each button with a sort of detached elegance. His movements are slow, aloof, perhaps a little lacking in something. He meets his own gaze while glancing in the mirror, a tired look, edged with ever-lasting shadows around his dark eyes. He blinks at himself, contemplative of his own heart before grabbing his cloak and swiftly setting it around his shoulders, vanishing through the door of his room.
Yesterday had been a long, convoluted day. Ackerman's flight had stunned him in a way that he had been unable to react properly, and when finally he had come to his senses, she was already gone, leaving in the snow a trail of hurried footsteps. Part of him had wanted to go after her, the other part, however, ordered him to let it go. To let her go.
The whole day had passed in a sort of daze, slower than usual, atypically long and tedious. His meetings had sent him in some kind of stupor, his ordinary apathy even fiercer than usual, his temper shorter, his irritation deeper. He had not run into her, something that he was grateful for, despite his own longing to see her face, despite his eyes seeking her around each corner, despite a longing to hear her calm voice behind him, to feel her hand on his shoulder.
"Levi"
The deep and steady voice pulls him out of his stream of thought and stops him on his feet. Looking up in the direction of the sound, he recognizes Erwin standing in front of a mirror, buttoning up his own white shirt.
"I'm sorry," the commander smiles, now arranging his collar, "Did I startle you?"
His door is wide open and Levi walks over to the threshold of the commander's bedroom. It's a small chamber, modest, the walls covered in books and manuscripts. The large window is opened and as he stops at the frame of the door, he feels a cold draught coming through the room. Levi shrugs, shaking his head.
"What are you doing up so early?" he then asks, leaning against the wooden edge and crossing his arms, his eyes drifting out the window.
"I need to prepare for a meeting." the tall blond man responses, grabbing his brown jacket and swiftly slipping it on. He runs a smooth hand against the blazon on his chest before adding, "Is everything alright?"
Levi nods vaguely, his eyes dropping at his feet for half a second before raising them back up at his friend. His icy blue eyes are looking at him intensely, demanding an answer from him. His body shifts towards Levi.
"Did something happen with Ackerman?"
Levi's face remains impassive, if not for the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. A scoff spurts out of his lips.
"Aside from being her usual bratty self? No, nothing."
"I see," Erwin answers, studying him for a moment. Perhaps he is fully aware of the turmoil going on inside of his friend, but nevertheless decides to remain silent. Something Levi is grateful for.
"Well I won't hold you." the commander speaks up after an instant of stillness between the two, going back to preparing himself for the day. Levi gives him a nod and takes a step away from the door to continue his way towards the Dojo, but he is stopped once again by Erwin's voice.
"Levi?"
The dark haired man takes a step back to the door, one hand on the frame. His friend is still standing before his mirror, his two hands on each side of the small table below it. Their eyes meet once again.
"Be careful."
His fast strides quickly lead him to the door opening to the gardens. When he passes the thick wooden entrance, the freezing air crashes against his face like a welcomed wake-up call. The sound of his boots crushing against the white snow mingle with the sound of the world softly stirring, an eerie silence speckled with the light chants of birds and the hiss of the morning breeze. He can see the Dojo from afar hidden behind the tall, bare trees, and something inside of him staggers, a mix of insecurity and doubt.
Every morning for a month now, she has been waiting for him inside of that Dojo, and every morning he had trained her to become a better soldier, and a better person. But he himself had felt changes too, changes that he had not expected to happen, changes he was not ready to let happen. And yet here he was, once more, going to that place to continue whatever it was they had started.
He doesn't know what he wants to say to her, he doesn't know if he wants to apologize, or to brush everything off, to blame yesterday's intimacy on the heat of the moment, to forget, to pretend it never happened.
The door is a few steps away, and his heart refuses still to disregard the bond he and the girl have formed, whispering to him how resilient it is, how he will never find something like that with anyone else.
When he finally reaches the door and slides it open, his heart is soaring. But darkness and silence are the only things welcoming him. He freezes, the emptiness of the room hitting him straight through the chest like a piercing arrow. He wonders for a split second if perhaps she did not wake up this morning, if perhaps she is late, sick, injured. The denial spreads through him like fire, cleansing the verity his body is unable to accept, covering the unexpected wound. And as the truth quickly dawns on him, bringing him back to reality, anger suddenly strikes him, resentment and rage mingled together with his confusion.
She had not come. And she would not be coming back.