Hello! So I jumped extremely late onto the Attack on Titan train, and catching up with the anime left me hooked! I've developed a ship towards Levi and Mikasa (if their relationship is not your cup of tea, please restrain from posting hate and don't read), and I've been dying to write a story on them. Without further, please enjoy both my first RivaMika and AoT fanfiction.

Am I Beautiful?

Chapter 1

Loved.

To be adored, to be idolized, to be desirable – all pertaining to the same gratification of being a person of amiability and charm. Mikasa Ackerman, as much as she'd hate to admit, knows all those three feelings all too well. But to be loved? To be longed for after even after just mere seconds apart, to be cherished as though a prized possession that dares not be touched by anyone but them, to be breathed in like a lifeline of fresh air – Mikasa has never felt anything of the sort.

At least not on the receiving end, anyways. She knows too fondly how it feels to long for, to cherish, to breathe in a person as though he fills in her very existence. Eren. His name both flutters and pierces her heart like a bladed butterfly. Yes, she knows what it's like to be in love. And because of such, she very well knows the heartbreak that comes with it. The lack of reciprocation, the cold distance she feels between them when she gets too close, the harsh reality of knowing that despite her efforts, she will never be looked at the same way she looks at him – how she longed for a world where love and heartbreak did not need to coexist, a world where to love means to be loved in return.

Mikasa is the only one left in the headquarters' bar. Armin, being the ever so observant and concerned fellow, knew her rare presence of even joining them at the bar to drink was a sign of distress. So, he had offered to stay with her until she felt like leaving, but she knew better than to take advantage of her best friend's kindness when it was clear he was ready to drift to slumber. He stayed with her long enough; all comrades already retreated to their rooms, preparing themselves for the dreadful morning hangover to come. Instead, she gave him a soft smile, her eyes letting him know that she will be okay. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and returned the smile, though his eyes showing more worry than she had liked.

"I'm always here for you. Don't overdo it." His eyes drifted to the whiskey in her hand.

"I'm just going to finish this glass," she told him, "Thank you, Armin."

"You might get in trouble with the captain for breaking curfew," he warned before taking off with that gentle tone of his, "Try to finish before night patrol comes around."

He had left merely five minutes ago, but the loneliness in the air felt as though she has been wallowing on this barstool since dawn. Mikasa sighs, resting her cheek on her palm while the other swivels the remaining of the golden liquid in her glass. She eyes her faint reflection on the glass, and suddenly she thinks of her mother and how much she resembles her. Their eyes were hazy pools of onyx gray that become brighter when affection was given. Her father once said that was his favorite feature of her mother. "Her eyes remind me of how beautiful life can be, despite it all" is what he said. Mikasa then remembers the way her father looked at her mother; how his eyes soften at just the sight of her, and how his lips curve into the most wholesome smile that silently expresses just how grateful he was to live in the same lifetime as her. Her mother was the same. They were so in love. So, so in love. And they made sure to reflect that same love to Mikasa, who, despite being robbed of the time with her family by the hands of pure evil, grew up enveloped in selflessness, grace, and longing. That was the love she knew to exist, the love she yearned for.

"Despite it all, huh…"

Mikasa feels a pang in her chest, and she immediately sips from her glass to ease the pain. She misses them so much. Remembering her parents has always been an aching task, for she does so to keep her precious memories with them alive in her heart, but at the price of recalling the last gruesome images she has of her parents: eyes blank, skin cold, bodies red with blood. She sighs and takes another sip. She tries to give herself grace, and visualizes her parents reuniting in the clouds, with her father swinging and embracing her mother in the warmth she's always known. The sight warms her heart more than the whiskey, but the drink sure did help keep the traumatic images from interrupting her moment of peace. She knows her parents are in good hands with each other in a world where there is no harm, and that alone gives her comfort.

A sad smile appears on her lips as she wonders how much easier going through this horrible, Titan driven world would be if she had someone who loved her as much as her father loved her mother. She wonders how it would feel like to be embraced from behind as she washes the dishes, to feel her lover's nose sink into her neck whispering sweet, enticing words like, "Whatever could I do without you?" or "You look beautiful." Mikasa tenses strangely at the word. Beautiful. No one besides her parents have called her beautiful. Not even Eren. Again comes that pang, and she sips once again. The constant catcalls from men who only see her as exotic, the whispers of admiration from her comrades that found her attractive, and even Jean's desperate attempts to flatter her enough to take a chance on him did not give much meaning to the word, if not any. Attractiveness differs from being beautiful, because only with being beautiful does love come. True beauty comes from within, her mother used to say, but then she frowns. Men see her as a prize to be won, and she despises it. "Is that all I really am?" she thinks bitterly, "Something to boast about?"

She never cared for anyone in particular to call her beautiful. She gave up on ever hearing it from Eren, for she knows if she does, it would not hold the same meaning as hers. There is one man, however, that she does crave the words from. A man who is out of league, yet somehow, still very much in. Mikasa feels her face get warm at the image of that very man being painted in her vision. If there was one man who never looked at her as prize but instead as a worthy human, it was him. From their constant competitive backbiting that arises from their private sparing sessions to the quiet moments where they sit wordlessly by one another after missions and exchange glances with eyes that tell each other that they are happy that each has made it out alive – Mikasa felt her heart grow fonder for the older man who is kind in nature but misunderstood due to his harsh demeanor.

Levi.

Her heart floats at the sound of his name in her head. She recalls the trivial moments of fingers brushing when handing over paperwork, of stolen glances from afar, of his touch when he corrects her form. Actions that she once before never gave a second thought about are now suddenly the very thoughts that leave her breathless. It wasn't until he smiled at her – a rare occurrence in itself – when she brought him tea after returning home from a soul draining mission that made Mikasa realize she was now in dangerous territory. She remembers clutching at her heart at the realization once she made it back to her room, the word "love" spiraling her through a sleepless night. It has been years since that day, but memory still burns deep within her core. She only recently came to terms with understanding her feelings, but nowhere is she near accepting them. She couldn't. She mustn't. Falling in love with Humanity's Strongest is a disaster waiting to happen should she ever decide to act upon it. There's a very bold and evident line between them, beyond just being his subordinate, and she dares not cross it. Even if she could, she was sure there could be no way that Levi would accept her. That he would see her as a true beauty to love back.

Mikasa then lets out a pitiful chuckle, shaking her head as she takes a bigger gulp. "If true beauty comes from within, I must be pretty damn ugly inside for no one to love me…to call me beautiful". She hates how childishly whiny she sounds in her head, like a pathetic, desperate maiden waiting for a prince to save her from this hell hole. But she can't stop; the thoughts keep intruding and soon she feels her throat tighten and her eyes water. "Don't you dare," she warns herself, swallowing hard at her emotions, refusing to cave in. Suddenly she feels her head to be too heavy on her palm, so slides her arm down along the bar and rests her head sideways on it, her eyes fixed dully on the glass stretched out in her other hand. Her bangs cover her face, but she stills see the half full glass. Or is it half empty? How metaphoric. She softly laughs with the same pity as before. "This is going to be a long night."

"Something funny, Ackerman?"

The voice startles her, worried that she may have been saying some of her thoughts out loud. And worst yet, she knows that voice. She keeps her head down, partially from embarrassment, but mostly from the liquor creeping up on her. She feels dizzy and curses herself and the luck she has. Of all people to catch her breaking curfew, it just had to be the very man who set the rule in the first place. The very man plaguing her thoughts. Perhaps she should have accepted Armin's offer to stay with her. All too unexpectedly, she sees his body sitting himself down on the stool next to where she is facing. She slowly gazes up, head still down and body still frozen in place. Through her bangs she sees him place his elbow down and rests his palm on the side of his head to look down at her with that infamous blank stare she came to both fear and adore.

Her heartbeat then quickens at the limited sight of him: freshly washed with his hair still damp and a short towel hanging around his neck. The sleeves of his gray top are rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms that appeared unscathed despite his many battles. He smells like soap. His deep blue eyes appear warmer than usual, perhaps the dim lights and flickering candles around them playing part. Still, another heart string was pulled. One thing that even she can't deny is that Captain Levi is quite the sight to look at. She wonders if he could see her eyes looking right as his.

"No sir," she replies quietly in a breath.

"Do you know what I think is funny?" he asks in a grim but bored tone. Insane how he does that, she thinks; appear merciless yet stoic at the same time.

Mikasa just pouts with a small glare in response, already knowing his answer to be sarcastic and disciplinary. Still, she humors him, "What?"

"That a certain brat think she's privileged enough to stay up afterhours, let alone have the audacity to loiter in the now closed bar area with a nearly full drink in her hand."

Full? What an exaggeration. Mikasa wants to roll her eyes at the discredit, but the alcohol in her system is making her too lazy to come up with any snarky remarks to counter him with. Instead, she stays civil. It feels easier.

"I'm almost done."

Tch.

"Clearly you're not," he retorts, peeling her drink out of her hand before letting out a sigh, "Head up and face me properly, Ackerman. We will not talk like this."

His voice sounds louder than before; so much so that it rings a bit in her ears. Mumbling what at least sounds like a 'yes sir', Mikasa slowly lifts her head and turns her body towards him. But slowly wasn't slow enough. She instantly feels her head pound nauseatingly. "Pathetic," she calls herself, disappointed in how weak her liquor tolerance is. She groans. Her sight of Levi is a bit dim, but still clear enough for her to notice a strange shift in his expression. He sits up straight to face her with slightly widened eyes, and his once stoic expressions softens to a much more concerned one. Captain, concerned? About what? About her? She must be reading into it too much. Confused and curious, Mikasa opens her mouth to speak but he beats her to it.

"You're crying."

"Huh?"

Mikasa blinks and suddenly feels a tear drop on each eye slowly graze down her cheeks. Her eyes widen.

"W-what?" she stammers, patting one cheek and feeling its wetness, "I don't remember…This is… I-I don't know why I —"

Levi silences her with a smooth thumb swipe over a fallen tear on her other cheek. Mikasa stills at his touch. His eyes stay locked into hers, and in she feels her heart jump to her throat. Her face grows hot as their gaze holds, and she hopes its just the alcohol and the warm room that's making her flush. Levi has never touched her this delicately, and the way it came so naturally makes her wonder if this man's heart ever flips. The energy between them becomes tense, almost hypnotic; but Mikasa is too overwhelmed to fully recognize it as anything but obstinate. She breaks their eye contact as he draws his hand back.

"Um, I…" she talks but words fail her.

"Mikasa," Levi says much too gently, as though one wrong word would break her, "Talk to me."

She blinks up at him, caught off guard by the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. It was like a bell, soft yet awakening. The sudden shift from his usual harsh or uninterested tone to this odd sympathetic tenderness stuns her like lighting. He didn't even ask, but instead told her to tell him what was caused her tears. It is though he already knew of the aches that waltzed dangerously with the whiskey and just wants her to spill. Everyone knows captain as one to never beat around the bush. Tonight is no exception. It pulls at her soul in ways she can't seem to handle, and almost magically, Mikasa feels herself get brave. Liquid courage, she figures. So she spills.

"I was thinking about my parents."

"Ah."

Her eyes soften.

"They were so in love," Mikasa says slowly, a small smile finding its way to her lips, "Especially my father. He would always stare at my mother like she was the most beautiful person in the world. There was so much love and gratitude in his eyes. And whenever I see them hold each other, it looked so peaceful…so at home."

She can't help the perk in her smile as she continues, "And I always wondered…how it would feel like to be looked at like that, or to be held like that by someone. Someone who…" she eyes down and fiddles shyly with the bottom of her scarf, "Loves me."

Mikasa lets out a pitiful giggle to herself as she continues, "I wonder if it's possible for anyone to ever love someone as broken as me."

It is a few long seconds before Levi speaks, "You are aware that you quite literally have the entire Survey Corps drooling at your feet like shameless dogs, right?"

Mikasa blinks back up to her captain and gives him a dull look, just to see that he was already giving the same dull look back, "As you said: dogs. Infatuation isn't always flattering. And being stared at like meat on a bone isn't necessarily what I would call loving either."

"What about your precious Eren?"

She feels an uncomfortable heaviness sink into the pit of her stomach. It almost makes her gasp, but instead she swallows air to ease what she already knew was an old wound resurfacing. Damn alcohol made the sting all too familiar. The memory of Eren's rejection, although from years ago, wasn't as securely locked away as she thought.

Against her will, everything comes back: the indifference in Eren's eyes when he looks into her longing gaze, the profound distance between them, the loneliness she feels even when they are together…what was once so precious to her now just feels far beyond her reach. Her first true heartbreak. She knows he had pitied her when she confessed. His desperate attempt to ease the pain – when it quite frankly did everything but – echoes in her head:

"I can't return your feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't have love for you. I do love you, Mikasa. I always have and I always will. Just not in the way that you want. I'm sorry."

Mikasa lets out a sad sigh. The heartbreak did not even come from the rejection, but instead from the fact that she already knew. She just hoped that she would be wrong.

"A lost cause," she replies with a sad smile, "I've moved on. His eyes…will never look at me in that way."

Her smile fades, the vision of Eren showing those very eyes to someone else, "Perhaps I just wasn't enough."

Once more, against her whole self, she feels her eyes water. The whiskey from throughout the night is making her sensitive. The memory of her father's loving gaze to her mother – the gaze that speaks on how mesmerized and blessed one is to be in love with someone so beautiful in all ways possible – pierced through her heart so sharply she thinks she'll bleed. Is she really so undeserving?

"Perhaps I'm not beautiful."

Not even a second pause between them before Levi speaks.

"Please tell me you're joking," he says so sternly it makes her tense up, "A woman worth a hundred soldiers insecure of herself because of that kid? Be serious, Ackerman."

Mikasa reddens and scowls at the insult, "Jerk, I am being – "

"Let me finish."

She stills like a child in trouble. Levi sighs. He scoots himself closer to her and settles his gaze into her eyes. She was used to eye contact with her captain – long ones, too, when they would argue and refuse to be the first to cave in – but this feels different. Almost calming. Especially in the way that he takes his time; his sharp look softening into a patient one the longer he stares.

"Not only is he an ignorant, reckless bastard, but he's a blind one too. Don't let that little shit deter you from your worth. You may be stubborn, gloomy, impossible, and defiant as hell," Mikasa glares but he continues with a raised finger to halt her bite, "But. A woman like you deserves to be unconditionally cared for. You're way more valuable than you make yourself to be. This shitty self-esteem of yours is irrational."

Putting down his hand, he gives her a vaguely exasperated look before concluding, "If there's anyone more deserving of a decent life, it's you, Mikasa. You will always be worthy of the love you seek, whether Jaeger or any other one of those spineless, good for nothing pigs see it or not."

He spoke with an annoyed tone, but still genuine, nonetheless. The warmth from earlier creeps back into her system. Aside from the slight slander, how he could say such emotive things so nonchalantly is beyond her. She feels bashful from his words. "Valuable." "A woman like you." "You will always be worthy of the love you seek." "Mikasa". Again her name rolls off his tongue like poetry, and it makes her feel like art. Despite his vulgar nature, so much benignity spilled from his tone that the rarity of it makes her feel like it was exclusive only to her. The idea makes her heart jump. His eyes never leave hers as she masks in the affirmations, and as if on cue, the butterflies fly aimlessly within her core. She examines his features more intently, thinking for a short moment how soft his skins looks and how nice it would be to feel for herself. His eyes are deep pools of midnight blue, the tired lines beneath them like art, and she's suddenly drowning. Levi never speaks lies, and his eyes tell the same. It's in the way that he continues to look at her that gives her the sense of peace she's been searching all night for at the bottom of her glass. There are many reasons her heart chooses him; this being one of them. She finally smiles.

"Do you really think so?"

"You dare doubt me, brat?"

Mikasa lets out a small laugh at the return of his wit, "No, never."

"That's what I thought."

There was an awkward drag of silence, and for a split second Mikasa becomes too aware of the situation at hand. Was she wrong to confide in her superior, to break down her walls and expose the most vulnerable parts of her that, despite herself, prove that beyond her tough armor as the woman worth a hundred soldiers, she is still a woman? A damsel in distress, even, who deep down – very deep down – just wants to be saved because she's tired? Tired of carrying the weight of the scouts and its responsibility that she never asked for. Tired of chasing false hopes. Tired of dancing with the fantasy of waking up to Levi beside her, blanketing her with those rare, sweet smiles and a homely embrace that promises her that he's there to stay because maybe, just maybe, he's fantasizing just the same. But the odds of that are as close to Titans surrendering, and she starts to regret it. She really should have just gone with Armin. Gone to her room to sleep and restart, because that's all she can ever do. But the regret starts to cease when she hears his soft chuckle. It rings pleasantly like hums in her ears, the sound enchants her.

"Didn't quite take you for a romantic, Ackerman," Levi humors with a slight grin, resting his elbow on the bar and taking a generous sip from her glass.

Her blush deepens at the sight of Levi's lips on the rim of the glass where her own once was. An odd, intense sense of intimacy strikes her as though a direct touch; heartbeats fast, breathing slow. Very uncharacteristic of him to drink from the same glass, she thinks, given his polished nature, but she doesn't complain. Mikasa watches his throat bob as he swallows, and the way he licks his top lip to savor the faintest trail of liquor leaves her lightheaded. The arousal and confusion feel like a rush. "Why am I thinking like this?" she yells in her head. She wants to blame the alcohol, but deep down, she knows.

"Didn't quite take you to be a comforting type, either, captain," Mikasa says back, a bit more timid than intended.

He just lets out a hum in reply and takes another sip. Mikasa's betraying eyes follow. This time, he's slow. That, or her mind is playing it in slow motion; she couldn't tell. But the effect it has on her is still the same. She feels blood rush throughout her body, and she becomes so warm that the scarf around neck is making it hard for her to breathe. He gulps and there's envy in the way that the fiery liquid travels down his throat. She hears his satisfied exhaleas he places the glass down, and it excites her. Every little movement so stimulating, she fears she'll explode. Levi's gaze returns to her, his eyes more hazed than earlier. There's a glisten of desire that sweeps across his face, and damn it all, it is so seductive. But it is more than that, Mikasa detects. Others might miss it, but his eyes are showing kindness, so much so that it feels like an embrace. An embrace that treasures her, that respects her, that values her. The look is so familiar, and it feels so close to home. Her heavy eyes widen, and her heart leapt to her throat at the profound discovery,

His eyes matched those of her father. Not in physicality, but in the way he glowers into her eyes that is identical to how his father looked at her mother. It is so tender, and so purposeful, the nostalgia makes Mikasa's heartbeat thud against her chest. She wants to cry; cry at the relief that, fluke or not, there actually is someone who can see her in the way that she has always wanted and adored, let alone someone that she came to love through all trials and triumphs. Even if it is the alcohol that's making her imagine things – it's undeniable now that the other glasses from the night are catching up to her – she does not care. There is happiness in how she can finally say that she experienced the feeling of being, dare she says, loved. Her captain may not love her in the way that she envisions, and she very well could just be soaking up a temporary thrill, but still she hopes that she will remember this feeling tomorrow, and for the rest of her days to come. Levi only acts with purpose, she knows, and seeing that he willingly gave her comfort with his company is enough for her. Enough love for her, as close as she can get. However, a question remains. The liquid courage returns, because despite accepting this whole spiel as a one-time occurrence, she still wants to know:

"Am I beautiful, Captain?"

Do you think I'm beautiful?

The world around them silences, only the faint snapping of the candle flame keeping them company. Mikasa's stomach is doing somersaults, heart beating in what she thinks is anticipation. For what exactly? She doesn't know. For all she knows, another rejection, albeit indirect, may be underway, but she's into deep now to take it back. So instead, she braces herself.

One too many seconds pass to her dismay, but before she can even think to glance away, Levi leans in, his face nearly inches away from hers with a sealed gaze that kept her shackled in her seat. Again, she's drowning; lost amongst the tides of his oceanic orbs, head barely above water, lungs imploding. She feels his breath on her slightly parted lips, and there's this faint smell of whiskey that captivates her so much she can taste it on her tongue. It's delicious. Temptation draws her in, ever so slowly that she barely notices herself leaning in as well, an invisible force gently pushing from behind. She doesn't fight it. Levi reacts with a small smirk, as though he has her right where he wants her, yet his eyes still carrying a look of reassurance, a look that tells her to relax, to trust him. And she does. This is it, she settles, there's no turning back now.

Alas, Levi speaks in a husky whisper:

"Beautiful…is a goddamn understatement."

What happens next feels magnetic. She tilts her head and, as soft as a feather, slants her lips on top of his. Hot. Her body is already on fire, flames flashing through her veins to her core, her heart completely engulfed with this thrilling, new sensation she feels from Captain Levi's lips. From her cheeks to her neck, to her chest, to her walls, to her toes – the fire scrams right through her. She almost gasps. It comes as a shock, like a sudden static, and the foreignness makes her pull away, but not before she feels his hand suddenly on the back of her head, bringing her back. Their lips collide once more, this time he takes the lead, and she feels him caress her lips with movements so tantalizing, so enchanting she becomes delirious. She kisses back with a momentum that matches his. He tastes of whiskey, and instantly she's more intoxicated. Her hands move on its own and she feels a heartbeat under her fingertips; his heartbeat. Even through the fabric, she feels it. It's fast, like hers, and it feels like solace. Is he feeling what she feels? For the first time in her life, she prays so. He threads her hair with his fingers and gently grips as he deepens his taste for her, and even with eyes closed, she starts seeing stars; bright, explosive luminaries that send her straight to the great, vast galaxy of passion and longing.

But the abundance of alcohol in her system makes a traitorous comeback and she feels weak. It becomes too much, her now pounding heart and lightheadedness in strong defiance with how good it all feels. Her eyes feel heavy behind her eyelids, and her hands begin to slither numbly down his chest like deadweight. She can't open her eyes. Before Mikasa can even process what the hell is happening, she spirals into the dark abyss of slumber, her lips slowly sliding from his mouth and down his chin in the direction of her fall. The last thing she feels is a pair strong arms circling around her, saving her from what could have been a hard landing.


Levi stares dumbly at his sleeping soldier pressed on his body. He almost fell off the stool at the sudden impact, but he was able to straighten up in time to hold her up properly against him. Her forehead rests in the hollow of his shoulder, and he can feel her deep, soft breathing seep through the fabric of his top.

It all started so fast and finished just as so. His mouth and jawline are still damp from the wet trail left behind, courtesy of Mikasa's tipsy lips. Her scent and taste were so strong from the liquor that he felt drunk off the kiss alone. "Just how much did this brat have to drink?" he thinks irritably. A long sigh escapes his mouth. Can't just leave her here, he figures. Levi shifts his arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and then in a swift, careful motion lifts her into his arms princess-style. Her head now lays against his chest, her ear at his heart. He wonders briefly if she could hear his heartbeat.

Her cheeks are still stained from earlier tears. The memory of first seeing her tears tonight, the ones he was brave enough to wipe away himself, brought him back to the reality of this ordeal. Levi, now with her fast asleep and unaware, at long last lets down his wall and exhales out a long sigh, sounding as if he's been holding his breath their entire encounter. Biting his tongue is more like it. So many instances in this miserable spiel of hers made him want to scold her. Not in an angry sense of where her feelings were childish, though with good reason he finds out, but more where he wanted no more than to grasp her by her shoulders and shake off the negative, unreasonable insecurities she bestows upon herself. It upsets him.

I wonder if it's possible for anyone to ever love someone as broken as me.

It upsets him because he understands. 'Broken' was a word that coexists with the fate of being an Ackerman. Superhuman strength at the cost of lost childhoods, traumatic losses, irrational dreams, along with the curse of anchoring onto the small speck of hope that their pain will one day be rewarded – Levi knows too well the feeling of brokenness and the lack of self-worth that comes with it. He also knows that Eren is, or rather was, Mikasa's anchor. Her speck of hope that was tactlessly crushed and rubbed into the ground like a finished cigarette under Yaeger's boot. An ill-fated event that he accidentally witnessed, thankfully much to her oblivion as he was hidden on the other side of the door when it transpired. He frowns at the memory.

"Eren, wait!"

Levi stopped in his tracks, the sound of Mikasa's voice halting him from the inconvenient task of restocking on teabags that he swore he had enough of for the week. He heard frantic footsteps in the room, most likely hers, pacing towards where Yaeger must be standing. For some compelling reason unbeknownst to him, Levi's feet remained planted.

"At least tell me why," Mikasa's voice choked.

"Mikasa…"

"Eren, I-I've always been by your side, you…we…I don't understand why…"

"Mikasa, please…"

"Have I been too suffocating?"

"That's not it, I just…"

"Do you not love me at all?"

Levi was in disbelief of her voice – the woman worth a hundred soldiers who could scare enemies away with just a glare alone – sounding so small, so pathetic, so abject. How easily Mikasa could shrink into something so powerless under Yaeger's influence was something Levi could never understand. He feels bad for the girl; great potential being held back by some odd sense of loyalty. He knew of their story; how Eren had saved her. But does her gratitude run so deep as to identify only as a girl completed devoted to her savior? Undoubtedly there must be more between the lines of their relationship that Levi can't read, but how he knows Eren and his rash persona to be makes it even more implausible that he's all it takes to make thee Mikasa Ackerman crack.

He finally heard Eren let out a heavy sigh and speak. Even with the closed door as a barrier, the air felt tense.

"I can't return your feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't have love for you. I do love you, Mikasa. I always have and I always will. Just not in the way that you want. I'm sorry."

More footsteps and then Levi noticed the doorknob turn slightly. He took that as his cue to leave, and quick. Levi made it to his quarters and paused in his steps as he made his way toward his bed. He felt odd; empathetic, almost. Perhaps even a little guilty for eavesdropping on such a vulnerable conversation. Levi always believed Mikasa to deserve way more than Eren Yaeger. Even before she was assigned under his wing, she became a force he was helplessly attracted to. So much so that – although he'll never admit this out loud – he found himself caring for her and her wellbeing way more than he intended. When she was sad, hurt, lost; it all troubled him. He concerned over how Mikasa took that rejection. Did she cry? Did she hit him? While that image gave him slight wave of satisfaction, he knew that was very unlikely.

If he had heard the rejection only and not anything before, he'd be positive that Mikasa took it like a champ; accepted it and went on her way because there were more important things in this life of blood and war to worry about. But after hearing her break apart in desperation for the sake of reciprocated feelings from that somebody she held so dear, it was questionable if she was able to hold herself together. Levi let out a sigh of mixed emotions. The sadness in Mikasa's voice still echoed in the depths of his mind, despite himself. He felt relief that he didn't see how her face must've looked in the predicament but knowing her face surely must've fell in defeat irritated him. "Blind titan-shifting bastard," he mutters in annoyance. It wasn't until he sat in bed and craved a soothing drink that he realized he never got his tea. Perfect.

Walking again along the corridors of the headquarters to head back towards the kitchen to complete his initial chore, he spotted the door to one of the balconies slightly open. It was way past curfew; no cadet should be awake, let alone gallivanting around the headquarters. He realized he should've scolded Mikasa being in Eren's room just moments ago, as she, like everyone else, should be asleep. Tch. He must be too soft lately for these brats to have the nerve to sneak around these days.

He approached the door, ready to reprimand whoever was in there, and just when he was about the pull on the doorknob, he heard sniffles followed by a sigh. Instantly he knew that sound belonged to Mikasa. Through the slight opening of the door, Levi peeked and saw her sitting on the floor with her back to him. Her head was buried in her knees, and her shoulders were trembling. She was crying, no doubt, and trying to hide the noise to no prevail. He figures her sadness derives from her encounter with Eren. The sight, much to his confusion, crushes him.

He suddenly recalls those rare, calmer days where he catches her smile. It was so radiant that even from a distance, Levi felt its warmth. A wholesome warmth that Levi doesn't recall ever feeling in his life; not since his mother was alive. He cherished it secretly, unceasingly searching for her smile in moments of distress. 'It would be nice if she kept smiling like that', he remembered concisely thinking, 'It's what she deserves'. But this right here, was not. Despite earliers empathy, new anger finds its way to his veins. He was angry at Eren for breaking her heart, because had he known the sight of her heartbreak to pull at him the way it is, he would've protected her. Protected her so that she never had to hear those words from Eren, so that she never had to find solace alone in the middle of the night on a cold balcony…so that she never had to cry.

Something in his heart stung at the sight of her lonesomeness. He felt it start to linger throughout his body. It was a sting so damn alien to him, so achingly tense, so achingly HER, that before he could even recognize his movement, he opened the door swiftly with no warning. Mikasa jolted in surprise and jumped to her feet, and when she turned and realized who stood before her, she stumbled backwards clumsily against the balcony's railing.

"C-captain!"

He only stared. His eyes locked on her wet, silver orbs and a wave of concern crashed across his face. The look she wore was the look he jinxed himself into witnessing; sad and shattered. There was a sudden urge to protect her returned, and it scared him. He felt himself treading into shallow waters. Yet there was no desire to move away.

Mikasa must've felt his worry, seeing that she hastily rubbed the tears off her face.

"This is, you see I-I needed some fresh air, so I came out here. I apologize for breaking curfew," she awkwardly bowed and avoided his eyes when she straightened up, "I'll be on my way."

His body had a mind of its own. Or rather, he acted upon instinct, an instinct he didn't know he had. Levi grabbed her wrist, halting her leave, and without leaving even a second to regret his actions, he pulled her into his arms. She let out a small, surprised gasp as their chests touched, and he felt her body tense up. Mikasa didn't immediately push him off as he expected, so he acted upon the advantage. His arms cautiously tightened around her; not tight enough to where she couldn't escape if she so wished, but enough to hopefully have her know that in contempt of his confusion, he was there for her. And if this was the only way to portray such, pride and reputation be damned, then so be it.

They were frozen for some long seconds before Levi felt the shuddering of her shoulders, realizing that the hopeless tears had resumed. Mikasa's arms alas returned the embrace and dug her wet, face into his shoulder. Levi gently stroked her hair in comfort, as though granting to permission to let it all out. And she did. She cried softly, each trembling breath pulling at him like a rope close to snapping. He cursed Eren in his head, wanting no more than to kick the shit out of him for trampling on someone so undeserving of t. Maybe he'll order Eren to clean the horse stalls for a month just to spite him.

Her hold around him squeezed and a small whine of neediness seeped out of her as if the non-existent space between them still wasn't close enough for her. There weren't many things that made Levi's heart race against him, but this became a new exception. He granted her unspoken wish and mirrored her hold, tightening around her waist with his other hand now stroking her back in comfort. A slight breeze made her hair tickle his face, her subtle, floral scent filling the air, intoxicating him.

All of this was new to Levi - the touch, the closeness, the feelings. Though he was grateful that she didn't push him away for taking liberties as to touch her unannounced, it only made him more disordered than ever. Never had he thought he'd see the day where it would be his very own subordinate to leave him breathless and dazed in emotions that he once believed was impossible for him to feel. Emotions that he dared not admit aloud. He didn't know why he was doing this, how it even came to this, but Levi thanked the Walls for the coincidence of finding her, for forgetting his tea twice. His chest tightened at the image of Mikasa's possible state had he not found her.

Her hast breathing ceased and he felt her body relax under his hold. He took this as a sign that he tears have dried and it was time to wrap it up. He did not want this rare, tranquil moment to turn awkward, so after treating himself to a few more seconds of this blissful rarity of Mikasa in his arms, he decided to let go.

"You've had a long night," he whispered into her hair before releasing her, "Get some rest."

She nodded; eyes still barred on his. Tender gratitude glistened in her eyes, and he felt a rush of accomplishment. If there was anything he wanted to come out of this strange turn of events, it was for Mikasa to, at the very least, feel better than she did before she got on the balcony.

Then something churned within him. She gave him a shy, thankful smile and a salute before heading out the door, and it was when the door shut that the realization of how Levi felt came clear as day. It hit like a rock to the head. In a world full of monsters and madness, this was deemed the most insane. He felt dizzy.

"Fuck."

I love her.

It has been two years since that day, since Levi found out that he was in love with Mikasa Ackerman. He can't pinpoint when it started to develop, but he knows with confidence that he had loved her long before he even realized it. Tonight was all too similar to what happened back then on the balcony– finding Mikasa alone crying, her denying her tears, and her in his arms yet again, albeit different circumstances. Very different circumstances, he corrects, as he rolls his eyes at the perpetrator that is the unfinished glass of whiskey rather than Yaeger and the victim that is the drunk, deadweight woman in his arms. He wasn't there from the start to know exactly why Mikasa sought comfort at the bar, but it was easy to put the pieces together.

Love is of an essence to her. He came to understand that through their years of camaraderie and witnessing her nurturing habits that came out so naturally, and even more now after she confided in him about her parents and how they loved. She wishes for that love, he understands, and surely her downfall with Yaeger implanted the fear that she'll never receive it. She's wrong. Because if it were him, he would not hesitate a second to give it to her...that is, if she would ever have him, which he came to admit is an impossible and foolish wish.

He thinks about it often, actually; what he could possibly provide her besides the burden of being with a lost, aged soul with demons he will never escape. Broken as was the term of the night. She could very well reject him the way Eren rejected her. He could criticize Eren for his stupidity of not accepting Mikasa all he wants, but he is no better. Far from it. No matter what, despite his apathy with the boy, he will never match the standards she sought in Eren. Levi is quite literally the opposite of Eren in most aspects; their demeanor, mindset, and aura amongst others. Things that made Mikasa in love with Eren are things that Levi will never be.

But luckily for him, she isn't in love with Eren anymore, is she?

That's what he came to believe in the way she no longer looks at Eren with sparkles of that mindless idolization in her eyes. The old admiration she held for Eren is no longer apparent in the way she speaks to him as well, her tone now neutral and jaded. They spend less time together these days. He has noticed it particularly when Mikasa started rapidly improving in his and her sparring sessions, seeing that she now has the time to perfect her craft. She fights differently now than she did when she shadowed Eren; more precise, accelerative, unforgiving, and still even more graceful. Levi has always been the observant type. Her smile has changed as well, the curve of her lips matching the delighted beam in her eyes. It makes her even more beautiful to him.

Levi almost lets out his infamous tch. He knows Mikasa to be the kind to regards her looks, but for her to doubt her beauty is beyond him. Levi dares not place himself in the shallow level of pathetic, delusional, and lustful dogs that drool at just the sight of her, but he can't deny that he shares the same thought; that Mikasa Ackerman is a damn beautiful woman. He always believed so, since the day he's first laid eyes on her when she joined the Scouts. Although, the look she gave him that day during and after he beat the living hell out of her precious boyfriend-family-whatever-the-fuck-Eren-was-to-her in court was completely indifferent, and without a doubt she saw him as a nasty enemy, but he couldn't deny that those daggers in her eyes were also very attractive. He stares down at her sleeping cozily against him in his arms, and though her downed head and bangs covered most of her features, he's still drawn to her beauty. Her tinted cheeks, long lashes, smooth lips, the way her midnight hair glistens in the light, the soft look on her face as she sleeps; she embodies true splendor, and he considers himself a lucky man to be able to bond with her than most. Albeit bickering, provoking, and having each other by the throat more times than not, but still bonding, nonetheless.

Upon looking at her lips, he recalls their kiss. Their first kiss. Levi rolls his eyes again. Of course she had to be drunk when this long-awaited reverie came to life. In an ideal setting, she and him would be at a more soothing atmosphere and not in this dusty bar, but the universe always tends to gift him luck on its own terms. The truth of the matter is that she kissed him. Is it really so naive of him to think that it had to be for a reason beyond just being drunk? A man is allowed to hope. He hopes that Mikasa acted upon good reason, that maybe she felt, even for the shortest moment, the pull that he feels. He remembers her hazy eyes and the emotion that still pooled within them. It wasn't a look of lust, or of deprivation, but instead of honest longing. One could only cope with loneliness for so long. He knows it too well.

The vision of her capturing him comes to mind. Her lips were pleasantly soft, way softer than in his imaginings, and it conforms perfectly with the shape of his own. The sensation was of one he has never felt before. A frenzy and a calm all at once, traveling through his blood like an addictive. One taste was all it took, and he's a selfish man. Her kissing him was a not a surprise. He knew what he was doing, setting up the bait. Under her heavy eyelids was that look of yearning as she gazed at him, and he wanted to understand why. She may have initiated the kiss, but it was Levi who took it upon himself to test the waters, to finish what she started, to not push her away and to finally feel what he only felt in his desperate dreams. He doesn't deny his selfishness.

Heat arises in his core. The realistic part of him knows it is luck that she fainted, because had she been awake to reach the end of their rendezvous, he has no damn clue what he would've said to her after. Yet, he still marvels at the idea of how far he would've gone, how much longer he would've savored her, and how much more he would've explored if she hadn't passed out. More importantly, how much longer it would've been until she stopped him, because he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to pull away first. Not like his body would allow him, he fears.

Shaking away the uncanny thoughts before it gets worse – because before a soldier, he is still a man – Levi carefully shifts her body more comfortably in his arms, not wanting to disturb her. She nuzzles her face now on his slightly exposed collar bone and lets out a sleepy huff against him before returning to slumber. He shivers. Whether she was aware of her actions or not, this moment proves she would be the death of him. Minus the liquor that lingers on her breath, her scent is still the same; clean, floral, alluring. The sound of her restful breathing is so reminiscent of peaceful days, so endearingly undisturbed that one would never suspect the sorrowful night she just withstood. With certainty, this is how she should be, at peace and at ease. At peace and at ease, knowing she is loved and trusting it. If not by Eren, then by everyone else.

By him.

He chuckles in defeat.

"The hell you do to me, you impossible brat."

Pleased with her slight snoring as the response, Levi at last walks away towards her room with her in arms, blind to the pair of eyes that watch him from far behind.

TBC

Stay tuned for the next chapter, which will also be the end of the story. Please do review should you wish to leave a kind comment. Thank you for reading!