A/N : Hi everyone! I'm sorry this took a while, this chapter was a little tricky. BUT it is 1am right now and I forced myself to finish this for you guys! Thank you so much for the support since chapter 1, it's been such a blast to write! Reviews are always appreciated, tell me what you think!
The steady flame of the candle sends a shadow over his concerted and frowning face as he leaves his name in a black thick trail, the tip of his quill dancing across the pages before him. The silence of the night is as ever his faithful companion and the scrapping of his signature on the parchments a reassuring noise. Like most nights, he has lost any notion of time, vanishing in paperwork and reports, burying himself in numbing work. When finally he raises his eyes from his desk to his window, snowflakes riddle the dense obscurity of the dark, slashing the night with bright white ice. Levi leans back into his chair and straightens his back before running a hand through his black hair and rubbing one eye with the side of his palm. He bends back over his desk, an elbow across the wooden surface, and he places his head against his open hand. A long quiet sigh escapes him and he closes his eyes, indulging himself with a few seconds of rest.
When was the last time he had talked to her?
Minutes had turned into hours, hours into never ending days. And as days and nights tailed one another in a ceaseless refrain, weeks had past by, without him even noticing it, without him even really caring about it. He had seen her from afar, ran into her in the hallways, rarely alone, always overlooking him. And he mimicked her, disregarding her very presence, the silence between them heavier than the one inside their hearts. And yet there she was, surfacing in his mind in the middle of the night like the leitmotiv she had become.
Levi glances at the clock on his wall and stands, deciding to call it a night and head back to his bedroom. His chair scrapes against the hard wood floor as he pulls himself up and immediately shuffles through the paperwork on his desk, arranging it neatly into a tidy pile and setting it on the side of the brown, polished surface. He organizes and reorganizes every object on his desk, setting them back at their original position, placing each inkbottle, each piece of paper at an exact location. And like every night, once he is done, he turns to the small water basin in the corner of his office and washes his hands, getting rid of any black stains, of any speck of dust that could have accumulated on his skin. He grabs the small towel next to the copper basin and dries his hands methodically; forcing his mind to concentrate on the actions he is doing, focused on each movement, forbidding his mind to slip back to her. He places the damp towel back to the side of the basin and turns on his feet towards the door, grabbing as he walks by the chandelier with the tall burning candle. He puts his left hand on the iron handle and swings the door open, his eyes stuck on the ground. And as he is about to walk through the door, all of the muscles in his body tense at once; grasping from the corner of his eye a tall silhouette standing just outside of the room. He lets out a swear, raising the candle up in front of his eyes to distinguish the person standing in front of him.
She appears before him like a faint ray of sunlight after a storm, like a drop of rain after a hot and heavy day; as if he suddenly recalled something he had forgotten for too long. Her right hand is raised, closed in a fist, as if she were about to knock, and her face is bathed in darkness, her graceful features flickering in the light of the candle. Her eyes are as ardent as ever, and he recognizes in them her eternal tenacity, distinguishes the timeless fight going on inside of her. She is a burst of air for his drowning self.
"For fuck's sake, Ackerman." he curses, quickly looking away from her face, only to settle his frown back on her.
She takes a breath and opens her mouth to say something, but at the last moment decides otherwise, leaving her face in a mix of confusion and apprehension. Levi scowls at her, waiting for her to give him an explanation as to why she is standing there.
"Well?"
"Can we talk?" She asks, her shoulders slouching a little. Her head is tilted towards the ground and she raises her eyes to him slowly.
"It's the middle of the night, Ackerman," he manages to reply, pushing away the sensation rising in his stomach, "Come back in the morning."
He steps aside from the young girl, letting the door of his office close behind him, and starts to walk away. But she is persistent, and he hears her fall into step behind him.
"I should rephrase my sentence," she says, catching up with him and matching his stance. She looks back at him firmly, "I need to talk to you."
He keeps his eyes in front of him, refusing to look back at her.
"And you decided that three in the morning after years of silence was the perfect moment for that?" he snaps, increasing his pace. She doesn't answer right away, leaving nothing but their echoing steps to be heard.
"…It's only been two weeks." Mikasa finally replies, the irony noticeable in her voice, amused at her superior's tongue slip.
Levi catches himself from flinching. Annoyance rises inside of him and he lets her comment brush past him. The two remain silent, their footsteps resounding in the darkness of the hallways.
"I'm sor-" Mikasa finally starts to say, but the man walking beside her doesn't let her finish her sentence.
"Oh spare me your half assed apologies," he hisses, shooting a glare at her, "I'm not a kid anymore, Ackerman, I don't need anyone to hold my hand. Unlike you."
His harsh words have the desired effect and Mikasa's pace slows down, her strides almost coming to a stop. But her antagonism takes over the wound caused by his hurtful words and she launches herself back towards him, rushing behind him as they charge through the shadowy barracks.
"Corporal, please!" she almost bawls at him in anger, "It's important!"
He stops straight on his feet and swirls around to face the young girl who almost stumbles onto him. His face is close; she can smell his panting breath and feel his fuming glower dig into her own. Her eyes dart to his open mouth and back to his eyes, feeling her heart drop and her stomach clench.
"I'm listening." he utters, his voice like the calm before the storm.
She unconsciously bites her lower lip, something Levi doesn't miss. He lets out a faint exhale, and she feels it against her mouth. And because she doesn't speak up, he is the one to break the silence.
"I trained you every day for a month Ackerman," he declares with a soft yet resolved voice, "You evolved and you became a better soldier. I have nothing left to teach you, so you can continue training by yourself and we can both go back to our damn lives."
Her eyes seem to shine in the dark as he speaks those words, and because he is unable to hold her gaze any longer, he turns around and resumes his fast pace. For a moment he believes that she has finally given up on talking to him and that she won't follow him anymore. The thought strangely dismays him, and he feels deep inside his chest a knot that had not been present minutes ago. He hurries on, evading her, running away. But her voice lashes into the night behind him.
"No." Her negation is loud and furious; her voice is low and powerful. He feels her energy rise behind his back, a drive he knows all too well, a passion and fury he would fight the whole world for.
"I'm not done. Not yet." Her voice thunders again through the hall, and yet Levi almost distinguishes a crack in her voice, an unexpected fragility in her words.
"Settle down, Ackerman, you're going to wake up the whole barrack." He replies, irritated, turning back around to face her.
She is standing a few feet away, darkness enclosing her. They consider each other wordlessly, as they always would, and in their stance something familiar and endearing settles between them, something the both of them had been missing without admitting it. Giving in, Levi gestures her to follow him before slipping through a door and disappearing inside his room.
She stays immobile for an instant, her chest going up and down, her heart frantically beating against her rib cage. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm her agitated and unnerved mind whispering a million different things to her. She feels an urge deep inside to turn around and run in the opposite direction; another urge though, stronger, deeper, greater, longs to close in any kind of space left between herself and the corporal. Despite herself, despite the warnings she has received, she takes a careful step towards the door Levi has gone through. She wonders if it was a mistake to come see him in the middle of the night, but she had acted on impulse once again, unable to find sleep, unable to shake off the image of him working at his desk. She takes another step and the door gets closer, just as her heart gets faster. She hears the sound of a door sliding open from inside the room, of metal clinging together, something being put a way, the door sliding back. Another step and she can see the inside of the room, his room. There is barely any light but she can distinguish plain white walls, and the beginning of a single futon on the floor in the middle of the room. Another step and she is standing at the frame of the door. Levi is only in white now; he has taken off his jacket and his boots, and is lighting up the few candles on the small table where a few books are lined up against the wall. She looks around with a sort of astonishment, understanding in the tidiness and minimalism of his room this façade that he tries to hold to the rest of the world.
"Close the door. Shoes off."
She executes herself as he finishes to light the last of the candles, the flames sending across the room a peaceful and soft light. She does not take her eyes off every little detail she finds in his chamber, until she lets her gaze fall back on him. He turns around to face her, resting his back against the closed window.
"Alright Ackerman," he huffs, crossing his arms, "Spit it out, I don't have all night."
She takes a step towards him, pushing away a strand of her raven hair away from her eyes. She looks at him for a second, unconsciously taking another step, trying to figure out what she wants to say to him. And just as she gets closer, he seems to hold his breath, pushing himself back into the wall with each of her steps.
"You have terrible decorating skills." She blurts out, wanting to smack herself the moment the words come out of her mouth.
The man pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, slightly shaking his head.
"My patience is running low." He snarls.
"I…" the young girl blushes, her eyes dropping to the ground, "I just…"
"You're goddamn impossible, Ackerman." He whispers loud enough for her to hear. Her head snaps up, a glare on her face.
"Right, because you're such a pleasing person to talk to."
Levi groans in frustration, taking a step towards the young girl.
"You barge into my office after giving me the cold shoulder for two weeks-"
"I didn't barge into your office."
"It's the middle of the fucking night!" He retorts, one hand pointing towards the darkness outside of his window, "What could be so important as to-'"
"Fine. Forget it." She argues, throwing her hands in the air and turning on her heel towards the exit. She grabs her shoes on the ground and kicks open the door.
"I knew you wouldn't come and I waited anyways."
Levi blurts out the words, almost shooting them at her. She freezes, her hand still holding the door. She turns her head towards him, locking her gaze on the confused face of the man in front of her. Incapable of fully accepting what he has just said, she feels her mind panic; her heart skips a beat. She lets the air go out of her lungs and drops her eyes back on the ground, a sudden desolation taking over her entire being.
"Why me?" she asks in a soft, quiet voice, "Why did you decide to train me?"
A few seconds pass without him answering her, and just as she is about to entirely give up on him, she hears his voice, soft, gentle.
"I saw something in you," he murmurs, "A promise. A chance at survival."
The sadness of her heart melts away and she turns around to face him.
"Who's?"
Silence settles once again in the room, but their eyes seek each other out, and his seem to speak a thousand words. They try to make her understand through the strength of his gaze, a pleading to not make him say it. And because words fail both of them, because she realizes, finally, completely, she yields.
In a single stride she is against him, crushing her lips on his, seeking in his kiss the answer to all of the questions she had been asking herself. It takes him a moment to realize she is in his arms, but quickly, he melts under her kiss. She closes every inch of space between them, pinning him against the wall, clasping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer as her body grows with longing. His hands travel around her waist and down her back, letting go of all his restrained desire for her, all of his restrained feelings, everything he had tried to set aside. Their kisses are hungry and fervent, their heavy breathing mingle together as they taste each other's tongue.
They stop their embrace, flushed, flustered. Foreheads against the other, they look into each other's eyes, panting. Levi raises his hands to grab Mikasa's head, gently stroking his thumbs against her red cheeks. He grazes her nose with his, his eyes exploring every little detail of her face, every scar, every trait, every freckle. And she smiles, a smile so rare and so radiant, he can't help but smile himself, giving in, letting go, caution be damned. And as he carries her to his bed, they find in each kiss a solace they never had expected to find and just for a little while, they both forget the world and burry themselves in each other.