"His tears probably taste like poetry"

“This is just a quicker way to heat water,” you tell him as you carry the device to the sink. “All you have to do is set it back on its base and turn it on.”

You supplement your words with the coinciding actions. A light on the handle glows a bright blue when you press the switch down, indicating power, and Levi studies it.

“Once the water reaches a boil, it will shut off on its own,” you continue. “So there’s no serious risk of you doing it wrong and setting anything on fire.”

Levi’s eyes skip between you and the kettle with rapt attention. A small blue ceramic mug waits on the counter near his elbow, along with the box of tea that you’d purchased for him the day before.

With nothing else to do while you both wait, you busy yourself by wiping down the kitchen countertops. You can feel Levi’s watchful eyes on you, which feels a bit odd, but he just crosses his arms, unmoving from his position leaned against the opposite counter. You get halfway through before he speaks up.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You pause and look over your shoulder. “How the hell am I doing it wrong?”

With a stern frown, Levi marches over and pulls the damp wipe out of your hand. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell that he’s taking the task seriously by the look of concentration on his face as he begins to go back over the counters in tight, circular movements.

Slowly, he goes over the entire kitchen and the residual liquid that’s left over dries and disappears, leaving it just as spotless as it was before.

You look over the counters, then back to Levi.

“Did your journey to the future also give you some sort of vision that allows you to see stuff I can’t?” you ask in a flat tone. “Because that looks exactly the same.”

Levi rolls his eyes before abandoning the wipe on the counter and returning to his original spot. ”You’re the one who decided we needed to clean this morning.”

“I needed to clean,” you quickly correct, pointing to your chest. “I didn’t ask you to help.”

“Learn to do it right and I won’t have to.”

You resist the urge to reply and choose instead to sit in a chair at the small dining table, surveying the kitchen for any unfinished work. Thankfully though, most everything has already been done.

The satisfaction of completed chores tempers your ire a little and you glance at your phone. In large boldface type, the time takes up most of the top half of your screen, and underneath it sits a text message notification from Allie. You must not have heard it go off earlier.

[Allie]: Hey! I’m doing the final count for seats next weekend. You’re coming right?

Oh, shit. Allie’s engagement party. With everything going on the last few days, you’d forgotten it was coming up.

A renewed feeling of dread curls up in your stomach at the idea, followed immediately by guilt. You should be happy for her—and you are—but this party has felt like a dark cloud hanging over your head ever since she first told you about it.

Realistically, there’s no way out of attending. As a bridesmaid, you’re more or less required to show up. The only problem is so are the groomsmen.

You sigh to yourself and chew thoughtfully at your lower lip, trying to come up with a decent response. If you were being honest, you’d tell her that you’d rather streak naked down main street during rush hour traffic, but you get the sense that she already knows by the second message that quickly appears on your screen.

[Allie]: I’m having the seats assigned, so don’t worry about it.

You huff another sigh and drop your phone back down onto the table.

“Something wrong?”

You nearly jump at the sound of Levi’s voice, forgetting for a moment that he was there. When you look up, he’s seated across from you with a now-steaming cup of tea held precariously by the rim.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if the uneasiness you feel now is from the text or the way he’s holding his cup, and shake your head. “I’m fine.”

God, what are you even going to wear to this thing? You don’t have a single article of clothing that even feels remotely suitable for an engagement party. What do people even wear to those kinds of events? Something reasonably formal, you’d assume. So, a dress. When’s the last time you even wore a dress?

Unfazed by your silent dilemma, Levi lifts his mug to his lips. To your horror, he does so exactly as you expect him to: with the rim of the cup carefully secured by the tips of his fingers, ignoring the handle.

It’s so.. natural, the way that he does it. Just like the way he cleaned your countertop and carefully makes his bed every morning to remove any creases…

“Are you hungry?” you ask suddenly, your pitch a little high as you try to force several trains of thought away at once. “It’s a little late for breakfast, but I could make us something.”

Levi meets your gaze with a dubious lift of his brows. “If your cooking is anything like your cleaning, I’m not sure I want to.”

You stare at him for a moment, beginning to wonder if he’s always so crabby in the mornings, when you notice the smallest hint of something much lighter in his expression.

For some reason, you feel the urge to smile. “Oh, you’re joking,” you realize. “Didn’t think you had that in you.” You get to your feet. “I’ll make eggs. How do you want yours?”

He turns his gaze towards the window when he says, “I don’t care.”

With free reign over the food, you get to work. It’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. You’re used to the silence and Levi seems comfortable with it. You keep expecting him to eventually wander into the living room when it becomes obvious you’re preoccupied, but he doesn’t. He just sips his tea and occasionally looks out of the window.

He must not mind your company then either, if he’s willing to share the space.

Pretty soon, the smell of cooked onions and toasted bread fills your apartment. The sound of the sizzling pan entices Luna from her hiding place, and you spend a few minutes filling her food bowl before dividing out two plates of food with fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and some sliced fruit.

You carry them over, placing one in front of Levi before sitting down.

“We should go out today,” you tell him.

Levi looks up. “And do what?”

You glance out of the window. Outside, the sun has reached its peak, bathing the city in a golden glow. With all of your errands done, you can spend the rest of your days off doing whatever you’d like. But you have some more practical ideas for today at least.

“We could get you some clothes,” you suggest, turning to look him over. He’s dressed today in the white button down and trousers you found him in. While they’re freshly laundered, there are still signs of wear. Frayed edges around the cuffs and a small split in the shoulder seam.

Plus, if anything is going to trigger any lost memories he might have, it would be interacting with the outside world.

He must think you have a good point, because he doesn’t immediately respond with something sarcastic.

Instead, he gives you a flat look and says, “I don’t have any money.”

You nod. “I know.”

“So, no.”

You frown. “Oh, come on. You can’t just wear the same outfit every day.”

The frown on his face that appeared the moment you suggested it doesn’t budge, but a thoughtful little crease forms between his brows that wasn’t there before. You have a point and he knows it.

“I’m not suggesting an entire wardrobe. Just a few things,” you say, using his uncertainty to your advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you add, “I said I’d help you.”

He pokes a bit passively at his food with a fork. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You don’t actually. Not that he needs to know how clear your schedule is outside of work. But even if you did have a thriving social life, you can still recognize that he’s clearly in an unfamiliar situation. Time travel or not, it would be beneficial to him to have your help.

You take a deep breath. “Let's say hypothetically that you did travel through time,” you tell him, pausing to take a bite of a strawberry. “Do you really want to try to figure out how the world works now on your own?”

After a moment of deliberation, he shrugs. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

You frown. Clearly this wasn’t going to be so easy. What happened to ‘there are worse things in the world’?

“If you don’t want my help, just say so,” you say.

“I just don’t understand what you stand to gain from it,” he counters.

Ah. There it is: distrust has reared its ugly head once more.

Your shoulders drop as you stab into your eggs next. “The honor of experiencing your sparkling personality, clearly,” you grumble.

Levi raises his brows. “Oh, you’re being funny now?”

“There’s no reason I can’t be both altruistic and funny.”

“Don’t forget annoying.”

“It’s better than being Mr-Mysterious-Cool-Guy who doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Fine.” He scowls and you blink, surprised by how quickly he changed his mind. Like it pains him, he clarifies quickly, “But just a few things.”

***

Once you’ve both finished your food, you head out together.

Predictably, the main retail street is packed with people—businessmen in expensive suits, tourists walking with their phones out, locals with their heads down to keep from looking like easy targets for pickpockets.

You lead the way through the crowds until you make it to the stretch of clothing stores that line both sides of the street. Large signs illuminate the facades of buildings; advertisements flash and shift along their quick electronic script.

Levi takes it all in slowly.

You think you’re getting better at decoding his microexpressions. The subtle downward turn of his lips and his widened eyes look a bit like wonder.

A cheerful young woman greets you as you walk inside one of the more reasonably priced shops. She waves from her spot where she seems to be folding and arranging sweaters on a small display table, and you veer left around her toward the men’s section.

It strikes you that you’ve never really shopped for another person before, and you slow your pace.

“Well.” You stretch out your arms as if to gesture to the racks and shelves of clothing before you. “I guess just look around and see what you like.”

It certainly doesn’t look as if Levi is keen on the idea. His mouth forms a thin line as he scans over the displays.

With his arms crossed, he steps toward the aisles. You let him go and look around the brightly lit showroom. It’s been almost a year since you’ve done any sort of shopping for yourself. All of the advertisements along the walls are gearing up for the fast approaching fall season, displaying smiling men and women in warm shades of orange and red.

You glance at Levi again. He’s sorting through a stack of shirts nearby with halfhearted interest, but at least he’s trying. In one hand, he holds a thick green sweater made of cable knit cotton. In the other, a cream-colored turtleneck.

“Those are nice,” you comment, joining him at the display table. You reach to test the quality of the fabric between your fingers and another thought occurs to you. “Hey, you’ll probably need to buy a coat too. It’ll be getting pretty cold soon.”

Levi grimaces. “I’ll be fine.” He moves to another rack and you follow.

A few minutes pass while he skims through a few different types of shirts. You stay quiet in an attempt to allow him to concentrate, but you also get the sense that maybe he thinks you’re being overbearing. A feeling that is all but confirmed when he speaks again.

“Do you have anything you need to buy?” he asks suddenly.

You shrug, then remember Allie’s text. “Actually, yeah.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “You should go look then.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes.” He hisses, not leaving any room to misinterpret him. “I can choose my own clothes. Go.”

You leave him with a quick reminder to find you when he’s done and head to the opposite side of the store.

The dress section isn’t as amply stocked as it might be in the summer or spring, but there are still a few options available that you find while skimming through the racks: a long, ankle-length periwinkle dress embellished with floral print and a dainty lace collar, a shorter green a-line dress with drapey, off-shoulder sleeves, and a baby pink dress with a quaint little bow on the front.

You take a look around for a mirror once you’ve gathered them all in your arms. This would be easier if you had a friend here with you to get an opinion. Are any of these even appropriate for an engagement party? Is ankle-length too conservative? Off-shoulder too casual? 

The green dress is the softest material—something you could see yourself feeling comfortable in during a long dinner event—and it’s also a nice, calf skimming mid-length that doesn’t feel too casual. 

You glance towards the men’s section, but quickly give up on the idea of asking for Levi’s opinion. He’d probably just say the first thing that gets you to leave him alone the fastest.

You wish you knew how to get him to trust you a bit more. For a moment this morning, it seemed like he was actually letting his guard down a little, but he’s right back to acting as if you’re an inconvenience.

With a heavy sigh, you drape the green dress over your arm and shove the other two dresses back onto the rack. It would have to do.

By some miracle, you manage to convince Levi to leave with three shirts, two pairs of trousers, and a decent coat.

It isn’t that expensive, but Levi still follows you back out onto the street with a mumbled promise to pay you back. Knowing that he doesn’t have the means to uphold that promise, you simply nod and lead the way back to the metro.

And maybe it’s your overzealous drive to be helpful or perhaps some subconscious desire to get on Levi’s good side, but when you see him looking around at the city again, you get an idea.

“Do you want to go up?”

He looks over at you, still walking. “Up where?”

“To the top of one of those.” You point to the nearest building, its highest level disappearing into the clouds. “There’s an observation tower in one of the tallest buildings in the city. Bit of a tourist trap, but it has a really nice view of everything and it’s not far from here.”

Levi’s eyes widen just a fraction and he looks back up. “You can go up there?”

“Yeah.” Taking the initiative, you start leading the way with purpose. “It’s just two stops away. Let’s go.”

It takes less than fifteen minutes to get on the metro and walk to the observation tower. 

Levi follows beside you closely, silent but watchful as you lead the way to the desk to pay for tickets. As you’re led to the elevator with a group, he reads each placard on the wall dictating the history of the building and its construction.

“It says the view is over 400 meters above street level,” Levi comments as everyone climbs into the elevator. It’s a tight fit with everyone, and you do your best to not encroach on Levi’s personal space much. 

“Mhm,” you confirm, tensing a little as the elevator rumbles to life. The uncomfortable swoop of your stomach makes you take a slow exhale before continuing. “It’s one of the tallest buildings in the country.”

A mother standing in front of you readjusts her child’s stroller, forcing you to take a step into Levi’s personal space. Others chat excitedly amongst themselves and you try to keep yourself evenly balanced as the elevator continues to sway.

You quickly glance at the display in the corner, watching the number tick up as the elevator continues to climb. Ten, twelve… Only a hundred more to go.

“Are you okay?”

You turn to see Levi watching you closely, that thoughtful curiosity now turned onto you.

You nod, but he’s not buying it. “You look a little sick.”

You feel a little sick. Every subtle jolt of the elevator sends your stomach into a somersault, and it doesn’t help that everyone is crammed so close together. You’re sure you could count each of Levi’s eyelashes if you really wanted.

You look away, back to the digital display at the front. “I’m just… not fond of heights.”

“Then why did you suggest we go up over 400 meters?”

You shrug a little weakly. “You looked really curious about the buildings. I thought you might like it.”

Levi sighs, but he doesn’t argue further. The most you get is a mild look of annoyance and a firm hand on your back when you manage to step on his shoe as the woman in front of you moves again.

It’s a little better when you finally get to the top floor. The elevator empties and you exit slowly, letting the large families with children rush ahead. 

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” Levi says, frowning before clarifying. “Put others before yourself.”

You’re not sure if he’s referring to the crowd of people or the idea of coming up here despite your fear of heights, but maybe that’s his point.

“It’s fine,” you wave him off. “I’ve been up here a few times before. I’ll just sit down away from the windows anyway. You can go ahead if you want.”

Despite your encouragement, he keeps pace with you down the short corridor until the area opens out into full floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city sprawls and spreads out, stretching to each end of the horizon as far as the eye can see.

Once it comes into full view, Levi slows until he’s stopped in the middle of the room. The expressions on his face are unmistakable this time: Surprise. Shock. Awe.

Less surprised, you walk on wobbly legs to an unoccupied bench and take a seat. Small children do a little to block the view, pressing their tiny hands to the glass and standing on their tiptoes as if that will give them a better look below.

Eventually, Levi joins them at the windows. You watch him, avoiding looking directly at the windows. It’s cute, you briefly think, how in some ways his amazement mirrors theirs. His eyes, normally a stormy and skeptical grey, are now full of curiosity. They linger over several familiar landmarks: Freedom Park in the heart of the city, the curve of the river as it disappears over the horizon towards the sea, the jagged silhouette of the distant skyline.

It’s exactly the reaction you were hoping for.

You sit and wait as Levi takes his time looking at the view. His surprise turns contemplative before gradually smoothing out into something more neutral again. When he turns and makes his way back to where you’re sitting, he stops to look at one of the large information bulletins on your right.

“There are more buildings like this one?” he asks softly.

You hum at his question, then turn to see the map he’s looking at. At various points across the country, there are buildings marked with their locations and heights. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure there are.” You study it for a moment and point between two points. “We’re here, and that one is in another city.” Then to another. “This one is in another country. It’s even taller.”

His brows furrow at the new information. “And it’s not… dangerous?”

You think for a moment, wondering where his thought process is going. “Well, no. Not really. Structurally, they’re pretty safe. It’s not like it’ll collapse on its own, and they’re designed with the weather in mind.”

Before either of you are able to speak again, your phone goes off in your hand with another bright chime.

When you bring it to eye level, you see that it’s Allie again. You had forgotten to reply earlier.

[Allie]: Let me know when you can!

“What is that thing anyway?”

You look up. “This?” you ask, twirling the device in your palm. “Uh, it’s a phone.” When that explanation doesn’t seem to work, you add, “You can use it to talk to people. Either by calling them or sending them messages.”

“Is that why it’s been making so much noise?” Levi asks. “You’re talking to someone?”

You nod. “My friend, Allie.”

He turns back to the map for a moment. “People usually look happy when talking to a friend.”

You have to stop yourself from cringing. Had you really been that obvious?

“I am,” you sigh. Thinking about it makes you anxiously twist your finger around the handle of your shopping bag. “There’s just this party she wants me to go to, and I’m not really looking forward to it.”

“So, don’t go.” He says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. And maybe it would be to him.

“I don’t really have a choice,” you explain. “It’s an engagement party.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” he questions.

You pause for a moment. “My ex is one of the groomsmen.”

Realization settles into his expression. “So, he’ll be there,” he supplies for you.

You nod.

There’s a beat of silence, and Levi turns once more to the map.

“Haven’t moved on?” 

Your eyes go wide. “No, no! I have, it’s just…” God, how do you explain it without sounding pathetic? You take a breath and try again. “I don’t want to look like a complete loser. After he broke up with me, he got this huge promotion and he has this new girlfriend and they travel all the time. We just never did stuff like that together.” You chuckle, the sound a bit bitter before continuing, “And here I am, still working long hours at the hospital and bringing homeless men back to my apartment.”

Levi watches you as he listens, but his expression remains entirely unreadable. 

You sigh again and look away. “Sorry. I know you don’t really care.”

“I never said I didn’t care,” he’s surprisingly quick to say.

“Yeah, but what’s a stupid engagement party to a thousand year old time traveler?” you chuckle, trying to shift the mood to something a bit more lighthearted. “You don’t need my sob story.”

“You’re making an awful lot of assumptions.”

You give him a playful grin. “So, you’re not a thousand year old time traveler?”

That seems to break the tension a bit at least. Levi rolls his eyes and takes a seat next to you. For a long moment, it’s quiet save for the excited screeching of children. 

“Have you ever heard of Paradis?” Levi suddenly asks. “Or a place called Marley?”

Just that question alone is enough to send your stomach flipping again. The worst part is how genuine he sounds when he says it.

Actually, no. The real worst part is how you think you’re starting to believe he really could be Levi Ackerman. Maybe. Just a little.

You try to keep your voice casual when you look over at him. “Is that where you’re from?”

He nods. “I think you do know,” he says before you have a chance to really answer. “Because that’s the only way you would have known I’m a Scout.”

You blink. “What are you talking about?”

“The night you brought me back to your place,” he reminds you. “You recognized my uniform. And ever since I got here, you’ve looked at me like you already know who I am.”

Damn. He’s more observant than you’ve given him credit for. It’d almost be impressive if he wasn’t glaring at you with such a guarded look on his face. But you suppose that might explain why he’s been so irritable.

It’s so frighteningly familiar. So very… Levi of him.

But how are you going to look him in the eye and explain that the person he was dressed as is fictional? You get the sense that he’ll probably just think you’re crazy, and he wouldn’t be unreasonable to think so. It’s part of why you haven’t brought it up yet, but another part of you is worried how he’ll react. You think you’ve been around him enough by now to assume he won’t be angry, but this is a highly unusual situation.

Only one way to find out, you guess.

You sigh, resigning yourself to whatever happens next. “I think it’s better if I just show you.”

He watched you a lot. Enough to know that you were always late for breakfast, trained yourself to the bones even on your off days, volunteered to help around with anything you could, and were particularly good at mending clothes. He knew you liked eating with Hange almost every night, and it was the part of your day he enjoyed the most. On each of those nights he followed the two of you into the mess hall, sitting far enough that Hange wouldn’t get the idea of asking him to join, but still giving himself the appropriate distance to observe you. To commit to memory every little detail he could, how you ate, how you sat, what you talked about, if your nose also scrunched up at the disgusting taste of the tea everyone but him was subjected to; any information he could gather before the sound of your laugh warmed his chest enough to make him leave.

Truthfully, he could have kept that stalker-ish routine going for ages, and he fully intended to; being able to keep his distance while still getting the smallest doses of you seemed like an ideal arrangement in his mind.

It wasn’t until one damning night that he decided this restrictive mindset had to change. He saw you walking with another recruit, late, and alone. He couldn’t properly hear whatever wildly amusing conversation you were having from where he stood; regardless of that, he could still clearly make out the faint sound of your laugh accompanying it. 

The small scene was enough to break him from his ridiculous self-imposed prison. Levi didn’t want to allow himself to indulge in his desires for you. He didn’t feel he deserved to be with you in any capacity further than working alongside each other. Despite that, the idea that someone else could come in and take from him the possibility of a chance with you was much more mortifying than his own insecurities and concerns.

From that alone, he made the decision to allow himself a sliver of your time. And so, the very next day you were graced with your first private conversation with the captain, if you could even call it that.

He approached you after you were done with training, standing against a wooden beam trying to steady your breathing, hair messy, and sweat coating your forehead. 

“Your stance was horrible today.” The abruptness of his presence and his comment caught you off guard.

“What?” You looked at him with a puzzled look, processing whether he was actually addressing you or not.

“During training. You were terrible.” He explained, his tone maintaining its harshness despite your confusion.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so, I’m out of my element today.” You explained plainly, a half-smile tugging on your lips both at the bluntness, and the fact this was probably the first time he came up to you alone.

“And yesterday as well.” 

“Right.”

“You’re not sleeping well.” More of a statement than a question, the dark circles you've been sporting this week probably gave it away.

“I've been having a hard time with it, yes.”

He gave you a firm nod, pursing his lips together in thought. 

“I’ll come find you tonight, I have a tea for that.” He turned around the moment he finished without a second look, not giving you an actual chance to accept or refuse.

Since then, the two of you started a small routine. He’d look for you after dinner and guide you on a brief walk to the top floor of the main building. A teapot and two cups already placed on the window ledge in the back of the room, with a singular candle lit close by; he hoped that the minimal amount of light would make his intense gaze less noticeable. 

It was supposed to last only for however long you were struggling to sleep but continued far past those days. Most times he wouldn’t talk, only listened; he’d let you rattle on about the day if you pleased, indulging you by participating in idle gossip.

“I can reprimand them for that. I trust you’re aware.” He’d slip in when you shared a little too much about the escapades of some recruits, forgetting for a moment he had recently become your superior. 

“Well, this is all alleged. Maybe I didn’t hear it right. This tea is great by the way; is it a different kind?" A blush creeping up your cheeks while you attempted to change the subject, looking at him with a sheepish smile that begged him to forget your prior information.

It took a few weeks, but he started contributing with topics of his own little by little. An opinion, a small anecdote, a complaint. Slowly chipping away at the facade of mystery and harshness that used to be all you got from him before. A part of Levi worried that the more you learnt about him, the less interested you’ll be, but the enjoyment he got from your small interactions vastly outweighed that concern.

A year into meeting you, Levi had grown accustomed to having you near him, even if for brief moments. He enjoyed your company and physically couldn't continue hiding it from you. He still kept enough distance to make his ever-growing feelings unknown to everyone else, and didn’t properly confess anything to you, but his advances grew slightly bolder. 

Your nightly routine changed a lot from how it originally started. Moving from ten minutes of sipping tea in a semipublic space to secluded meetings in the dead of night. Going as far as sneaking you in his private quarters when he came back from travels you were not part of. 

Being away from you became the key that pushed your connection forward. Every time he came back, he wanted to have you around for the night, and he needed the certainty that you wouldn’t be interrupted; the reassurance of it enabled him to make these encounters last for hours.

He sat in a wooden chair next to his desk, beckoning you closer with a simple command. “Show me what happened.”

“You can’t see the bruise with my uniform on.” You argued with a stifled laugh; you had complained to him about a minor injury you sustained recently, something insignificant that happened while he was gone.

“Then change.”

You stared at him bewildered.

“Do I have to do it for you?” His stern tone didn’t falter; it would’ve seemed like an order more than playful teasing, if it wasn’t for how relaxed he looked.

“You returned as tactful as ever, I see.” You laughed, amused at his actions. You made your way to the bedroom, missing the smirk on his face.

You returned to the room in a thin nightgown that made Levi tense at the sight, hands tucking into fists on his lap before relaxing again. His hand sprawled on the back of your right thigh without question once you stood in front of him, pulling it closer to properly view the wide bruise on the outer side of it; purplish hues going from your mid-thigh to the bottom of your glute. 

“This is nothing to you?” It came out softer than he intended. Thinking of you being hurt when he wasn’t around, no matter how little, lowered his guard. 

“It looks worse than it is.”

His hand carefully grazed the bruise, hiking up the edge of your gown in the process. You shivered at the touch. Goosebumps covered your skin, and it did not go unnoticed by him. “Does it hurt?”

“No. I think this helps.” You humored, not bothering to hide your enjoyment of his treatment. 

“I’m sure it does, brat.” He smiled, small, but enough for you to notice. His hand still caressing your leg despite his response.

It took Levi five years to make his feelings for you properly known. But it’s not like you, or others, hadn’t suspected them before that. Despite keeping the matter private, much like most things about him, sometimes he struggled to adequately hide that he had a soft spot for you.

He never outright said he cared about you, never properly held you, but all the things he did do, they proved to be more intimate and sweeter than any regular courting could ever be.

For your first birthday after joining the Corps he went out of his way to gift you a treat from a bakery in your home district. It became a tradition that he fulfilled every year since; he’d go as far as getting it for you in advance if an expedition took place around the date, just in case one of you didn't make it back after.

In your second year, after an expedition where two members of your graduating class were tragically lost, he sneaked you into his quarters every night for a week—Both Erwin and Hange knew but they didn’t say word of it—he’d lay you down next to him, let you cry out your grieve for as long as you needed to, and patiently waited until you grew tired enough to sleep to get some shut-eye of his own.

“I’ll never get used to it, will I?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

“No.” While your eyes were glued to the ceiling, Levi’s gaze was fixed on you. His expression was unreadable as usual, but he was completely tormented, wishing he could take this hurt away from you.

“Am I being weak?”

“You’re being human.”

“That’s a yes.” You smiled, attempting to joke, yet the humor in your voice didn’t reach your eyes. Tears fell down in a stream, and Levi had to try his hardest not to reach out and wipe them off your cheeks. “I just—” Your voice broke. To him, the sound evoked a feeling adjacent to being stabbed. “I feel I should be stronger than this. I shouldn’t be surprised over what I signed up for.”

“You’re not surprised; you’re hurt.” Levi chastised, shifting his position to look at you properly. “You did your job, you don’t have to be strong now. Now stop this nonsense of acting like it's shameful to grieve. At least don't do it with me.” 

You didn’t say anything—instead looking back at the ceiling while your hand found his arm, curling up to his side when the tears started burning your eyes once again.

He didn’t try to hold you, but he didn’t pull away. Even after you fell asleep. 

In your third year, when Erwin told him he’d be pulling you out of his team to make you a squad leader, he became sick almost immediately. The notion that you would no longer be under his supervision, that even if you went on the same expeditions as he did, he’d have to wait until the very end before he could know if you were still alive. It circled his head all morning and gave him a headache so outstanding he had to dismiss himself from training that afternoon. 

“What do you think?” Erwin ended the silence that persisted since he broke the news. 

Levi stared absentmindedly. “I think she’ll be a fantastic leader.”

“Is that it?”

“Are you asking for my permission?”

“No, I simply respect you enough to ask for your opinion.” 

“Unless you’re willing to put my preferences above what’s best for humanity, don't ask for my opinion on what you should do with her.”

“Because your preference would be to retire her immediately?” Erwin prodded, with no real expectation for Levi to speak up. It wasn’t the first time he brought you up, and it wouldn’t be the last if Levi kept refusing to trust him with this information. “You don’t have to answer that. I understand you want to avoid telling me what I already know.”

Following your change in rank, the order of retreating met Levi with a wave of asphyxiating dread rather than relief, one that didn’t dissipate until he was able to spot you on your horse, still breathing and in one piece. These concerns were never brought up to you or anyone else for that matter—despite Erwin being aware and willing to speak with him about it if he could just be honest—even if his fear of losing you and not being able to do anything about it grew stronger with every expedition, he kept his worries regarding your well-being private. You always returned; he had no reason to discuss anything he felt. If you were alive and well, he’d be able to mask his love for you for a while longer.

It wasn’t until your fifth year as a member of the Survey Corps when his ‘while longer’ ended. When he had to come to terms with his fears, and his feelings.

He kept his composure as best as he could while going through the list of those dead and missing with Erwin, watching other scouts load bodies into carriages, though he’s sure it did not go unnoticed how tightly he was gripping his gear while he waited for every name to be read. Even then, after all bodies were loaded, the trek to the walls started, and confirmation that you were not one of those lost received; his heartbeat did not return to a healthy rhythm. He needed to see you.

This was the most stressed he ever felt trying to find you after an expedition. Deep down, he could feel something about today was different, as if you not being okay was something he could physically feel. And it didn’t help the fact that it took him so long to spot you; carriages and horses already on the move to safety without him being able to catch a single glimpse of you. 

Every second that passed he could feel his body tense further, cold sweat reaching his palms, a knot tight in his throat that only got tighter the moment he saw you. That sickening feeling of dread he thought he had grown used to crashed down on him and threatened to finish him right then and there. He spotted you being carried by Miche when he made it past the wall. Your body limp in his hold, your inability to even keep your head up made Levi assume the worst and had him rush in your direction before he even realized it.

He got off the horse calm and collected, as if his heart wasn’t threatening to rip itself out of his chest. His relief upon seeing you were still breathing was immediate, yet short-lived as he paid more attention to your injuries. Your left thigh and arm were bandaged. There was blood all over you, dripping from your nose, your mouth, and the seams of the binds on your wounded limbs; you must’ve been hurt close before the order to retreat was given.

It made him sick and brought a vile sting to his eyes, a sensation he had long forgotten.

“She’s okay.” Miche assured him, smiling lightly at how Levi was frowning at you as though telepathically reprimanding you for getting to this state. “Nothing’s broken, but she’s weak. She couldn’t keep riding.”

Levi nodded firmly, not trusting himself to speak right away. He reached under your body, taking you in his arms with little protest from the other man. “I’ll take her. I don’t want her in a carriage.”

“She’d be laying down.” Miche pointed out yet still took a step back once Levi had a solid hold on you, not really wanting to interfere. 

“She’d be alone.” 

Miche nodded, holding back his reaction at what the captain was displaying, and promptly retreating to his horse; more than ready to get back and tell Erwin about this little interaction. 

You were conscious enough to hear the conversation, although far too drained to register the worry behind Levi’s tone let alone comment on it. You had half a mind to realize he carried you back to his horse, helping you on it before getting behind you. He took a hold of the handle and took off in a slow ride, while his left arm went around your waist, keeping you tucked back against him.

One of your hands went to his forearm, giving it a small squeeze to show your acknowledgement before relaxing again.

“Are you okay?” He questioned quietly. Not that anyone would be able to hear him past the sound of hooves against the ground and the many murmurs of civilians watching them pass by. 

You turned your head enough to look at him out of the corner of your eye. The concern written all over his face almost made you forget the waves of pain crashing through you. You nodded, small, before letting the back of your head rest on his shoulder; the tiny action having wasted the remainder of your energy.

“Liar.” He murmured against your hair, the touch of his lips against your scalp so fleeting you could only assume you imagined it. 

That night Levi had been more consumed in his own thoughts than he would have appreciated. You were out most of the ride back to the base; the only thing keeping you upright was his firm hold on you that didn’t falter once. He spent that time wondering what happened, how did you injure yourself, did somebody help you, did you have to drag yourself all the way to your horse and pretend you didn’t feel so bad until it was inevitable?

He imagined every single heartbreaking scenario his brain could come up with, images of you crying out while you bled in the woods flashed through his mind, torturing himself with the idea that maybe you had been near him, maybe you even called out for him and he didn’t hear it, trying to find ways to blame himself for your poor state.

He woke you gently once you made it to the base, helping you off the horse and onto your feet, guiding you to wrap an arm over his shoulder to steady yourself when you were unable to suppress your limping. Everything was a blur for you, every step you took forgotten when the next one happened.

You could remember briefly smiling at Hange when she approached the two of you, catching some of their conversation, and Levi whisking you away before you could manage a goodbye.

“You really busted yourself out there.” You chuckled at her comment and winced immediately after, a stabbing pain reaching your ribs, the mixed noise making her laugh. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, not getting the time to answer before Levi interjected. “She is.” He stated, adjusting his grasp on your hip when you clutched your side.

“Right… I’ll get one of the scouts to take her to the infirmary. Erwin wants to talk to us.” 

“No.” Levi spoke up before Hange could even attempt turning on her heel. “I will take care of it, and I’ll go to his office after. Tell him I’ll only be a moment.” He kept walking without another word, not giving her any time to make a comment on his behavior.

He took you to his quarters, helping you out of your stained cloak and muddied boots before starting to undo the soaked bandages on your limbs. He seemed unaffected by the sight he was met with, the gashes and lacerations covered in dried blood were nothing he hadn’t seen before; but the fact that they were on your body, it brought a shake to his hands he was completely unfamiliar with and he thanked the heavens you were too busy scrunching your eyes together at the stinging feel of him cleaning the open wounds to notice it.

You don’t know if you talked, if he asked you anything, you don’t think so. The only thing you committed to memory was the feel of hardened hands touching you in the softest ways imaginable, guiding you to his bed when he was done and easing you into laying down. He caressed your face before he moved away; the way he looked at you a mixture of longing and thinly veiled restraint.

He left almost as soon as he laid you down, knowing that if you said anything, if you made even the slightest sound, he’d discard his meeting altogether to lay next to you. 

Levi came back less than an hour after with a thick bag under his arm, having raided your room before coming to gather anything you might need. He was being exceedingly obvious today; he knew more than well his friends no longer needed a heartfelt confession to know exactly why he had been so special to you in the past five years with how he's behaved, but for once he couldn’t care less about that matter. 

He found you just as he had left you, now asleep with your mouth slightly agape. Your messy hair tussled all around was the only indication that you moved while he was gone. He pulled a chair next to the bed, not wanting to risk waking you up; ready to patiently wait until he could get you out of your filthy, blood-stained uniform. Your change of clothes and a clean set of sheets awaiting next to him already.

He doesn’t know how long you were asleep for, but it continued through enough hours for him to follow suit at some point.

He vaulted out of the chair when you woke up with a loud cry; the sound was completely gut-wrenching. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?!” He grabbed you by the shoulders with a desperate pull, his eyes searching for yours. The sting of tears threatening to break free he felt earlier returned with a vengeance when you coughed up blood, tears streaming down your face. 

“Talk to me, angel. Please.” He begged, hands reaching for your face, wiping your tears. You didn’t speak, didn’t explain what was ailing you, instead your cries became louder, deafening. 

Levi could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, and before he could do anything, more blood came out of your mouth, then your nose, then from your wounds, white bandages drowned in the crimson red liquid. He couldn’t find the words; he didn’t even know what to do. He frantically moved around the room, searching for anything to wipe the blood with, to apply pressure and stop this someway.

Before he knew it, his own eyes were welled up with tears as he desperately tried to stop you from bleeding out, the sound of your crying overwhelming him completely. 

“You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” He repeated like a mantra, the room spinning around him when he looked at the pool of blood under you. He wiped his tears with his forearm. His heartbeat grew louder, and the sound of it seemed to echo through the room.

You wouldn’t stop crying, and God, you wouldn’t stop bleeding, it was futile to try. Your hands went to his shoulders, bringing him closer to you while you sobbed hysterically. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly, crying onto your hair, hopelessly clinging to you. “I can’t do anything. Please forgive me, angel. Please.” He wept, his grip tightening the quieter your cries became; your energy depleted the longer you kept bleeding. 

“Don’t leave me.” It became uncontrollable; he felt completely out of himself, the sound of his thunderous heartbeat, the feel of your blood on his hands, the pain in his chest crushing him further and further. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Levi?... Levi.” He woke up with a jolt to see you standing above him, mind completely fogged by the images his brain came up with. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, looking around the now empty bed then back to your fragile frame. 

The glow of the moon coming from the window was the only source of light, but it was enough to see you properly; not in tears, and not bleeding out. Instead, you were looking at him with a puzzled expression, an arm cradling your midsection as you tried your best to stand upright.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m—” He closed his mouth before continuing, rubbing his eyes before he looked at you again, a slight wet feeling coating his fingertips—was he crying?—it was just a dream. “Don’t worry. Is something wrong?” 

“I wanted to get out of all this blood. But I could barely make it a few steps past the bed.”

He hummed, burying his face in his hands for a moment, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll help you.” His eyes found you again, narrowed. Going over every inch of your body to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, to prove to himself that you wouldn’t randomly start bleeding out in front of him. He debated telling you about his dream, telling you about how worried he was earlier and how the stress of his concerns was swallowing him whole right now, but that would mean delving into a conversation he’s unsure he’d be good at. Maybe he’ll need to practice it.

He walked you to the bathroom, arm stretched out for you to hold onto through every step. “You look terrible.” He murmured, helping you stand in front of the small tub. 

“Aren’t you sweet.” You laughed dryly, slowly loosening your grip on his forearm to let him stand back.

You and Levi stared at each other willfully, both waiting for the other to take the next step. 

“Can you do it alone?” He asked while reaching for the top button of your shirt, undoing it slowly, waiting for you to form a response, groggy and restless voice adding something new to his usual stoic tone. 

You wanted to object, tell him he didn’t need to continue. But you were sure you’d end up falling face first on the floor at some point if he wasn’t holding onto you. “Maybe I could.”

“Sure.” He muttered, gaze focused on where his hands started to undo the rest of your shirt, a deep frown covering his features at the side of fresh red bruises covering your left side. 

He carefully undid the bandages on your arm to slowly slide off the shirt. You didn’t care to watch his movements; you couldn’t look away from his face, how concentrated he was, how troubled he seemed over your wounds. It made you smile, both that and the pink tint of his cheeks when he exposed you further. 

If you knew him less, you would’ve asked him to kiss you right then and there, but by now you knew well his only answer to that would be questioning if you were concussed.

Levi kept himself from speaking. Too focused on the crushing weight in his heart over the sight of your bruised and battered frame, a weight that grew more draining the more of your clothes he got rid off. 

His mind also trotted over the idea of kissing you. He thought about it every single day, but now more than ever he wished he had done so before. That way he could pepper every single inch of your body with small soothing kisses now and it wouldn’t be strange, there wouldn’t be a possibility of you freaking out, because by now you would’ve been used to his affections. 

If only he had been braver about it before. 

He desperately wished to hold you tenderly in his arms, to caress your skin and kiss you senselessly, trusting that every bit of his devotion would help you forget about the pain you must be feeling.

“What happened?” He helped you stand above the drain, squeezing your hand before letting you stand on your own. He soaked a cloth before he started carefully scrubbing your arms, trying his best to not pressure the slash on your left arm into bleeding again.

“It was my stupidity. One of my scouts was kicked off his horse, and a titan was going to grab him, and I— It was impulsive. I threw myself at them and I didn’t realize another titan was coming. It was a big mess and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” You yawned between your sentences, watching him with tired eyes, following his hands whenever he bent to dampen the cloth and settling back on his face when he returned; his eyebrows furrowed at your anecdote. “I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened, I just know I flew through more trees than I would like, and when I finally got my cables to stick to something I was hanging two inches from the floor and looked like this.”

Levi stayed silent for a moment, trying to picture the situation, as if that helped him in any way. “How did you get on your horse?” 

“Miche found me. I would have only been able to drag myself until I found someone. It’s hard to lift this leg.” His grip on your waist tightened at the notion, his eyes now meeting yours to avoid staring at where he scrubbed on your chest, ever-present frown adorning his features.

Levi saw the images of your explanation vividly in his mind; he could clearly see you dragging yourself out of the woods in fear that you wouldn’t make it, as if it actually happened, as if he had been present. It was completely nauseating. “I’m sorry.” His hands stopped, both settled firmly on your hips, indifferent to his proximity and your bare skin.

“For what?”

“I could’ve been there.” 

One of your hands reached his bicep, tentatively caressing him. “Don’t do that.”

He pursed his lips together; he knew it was ridiculous to upset himself over something he had no control over, and yet he couldn’t stop. He stayed silent, instead opting to watch you get closer, your hands rubbing up and down his arms to ease him. The delicate body he’s grown to yearn for standing less than an inch away from him, laid bare for his eyes only.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” He murmured, tense muscles taut under your touch as it rose up to his shoulders then back down to the front of his chest. 

“I know, but you seem to be more troubled than I am. I may need help getting up, but you’re looking at me like I’m dying.”

“I just don’t know what to do with myself.” Levi let himself get closer, his hands hesitantly moving to your back. “Seeing you like this.”

“I’ve been hurt before.” Your tone was confused, and he hated that it urged him to continue.

“Not like this. Not when I’m not around.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I was not by your side.”

“I lied.”

You couldn’t help the weak laugh that left your lips, looking away from him as you tried to retrieve your composure. 

“Are my worries amusing to you?” His gaze narrowed, not in his usual scowl—in dismay.

You shook your head, a hand coming up to caress his face, looking at him with nothing but utter reverence. “I’m more than appreciative of your worries. But I do find it humorous that I have to come back like this for you to say these things.” 

The time seemed to stand still between you. Patient, as always, you waited; letting him find the words he’s been struggling to muster. He hated how difficult this was; to expose feelings he has been certain of for years. “Sit, we need to wash your hair.”

You sighed, hands dropping from him with a small nod. He helped you sit in the middle of the tub, kneeling down on the floor next to you, holding onto a small water pitcher with trembling hands. 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of water slowly dripping onto your scalp, finally relishing in a soothing feeling. “Don’t look at me when I say this." His voice was low, unusually unsteady, despite being completely certain of his words. "I’m terrified of losing you.”

Your lips pursed together, trying your best to keep yourself from turning your head; wanting to indulge him if it meant being able to hear what he had to confess. “Why?” You asked quietly, eyes stuck to the water falling from your shoulders, bloody and muddy dark streaks slowly disappearing, becoming clearer the more his fingers helped brush water through the thick locks of hair.

Silence lingered for a moment. The only sound being the slow rush of water, and Levi’s deep breaths. He could do this, if there’s someone he could say anything to, it was you. So why did his chest ache this much?

“I’ve belonged to you from the moment I met you.” Levi’s voice came out ragged, broken. His hands softly brushed through your hair, moving back the strands that fell on your face. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “And I don’t know what will be of me if the only reason I hold any hope for the future is no longer with me.”

You couldn’t help meeting his gaze, lips parting and closing with suppressed praises. To hear something that gentle, romantic, out of the very lips you’ve wished had graced yours long before today; it could’ve been enough to push you through every day of your life from now on. 

The way you were looking at him was his undoing, a softness he did not deserve, and that he could only ever receive from you. He watched you uneasy, his throat running dry, unsure of what he was even waiting for. “Please say something.”

Words evaded you completely, too stuck on repeating that sweet confession over and over again in your head. Instead of coming up with some clever poetry of your equal feelings, you did the one thing you knew no amount of prodding would make him do. 

Your hands slowly reached for him, cupping his face to bring him closer to you. And you waited, for a moment; not wanting to miss how he relaxed, how he gave in. Only then did your lips meet his with a tenderness that made Levi’s stomach flutter. 

One of his hands went to the back of your neck, long fingers twisting into your hair, keeping your lips flush against his while he inched closer to you. His free hand gripped the back edge of the tub, his body looming above yours, completely trapping you under him. 

The kiss was searing and all consuming. As if you were trying to pour into him every unsaid word; as if Levi was trying to make up for every single moment he wished your lips had been on his. It grew desperate within seconds, teeth clashing and noses bumping while both of you tried to absorb each other’s oxygen.

It’s only when you tried to wrap your arms around his neck to drag him down did you break away, wincing at the sting from a gash on your bicep.

Levi immediately tensed when you stopped. “I’m sorry.” His voice was breathless, a small whisper followed by him pulling back, softened gaze raking over you to make sure he didn’t hurt you. 

“It’s my fault, I should’ve waited until we were laying down.” You quipped, instinctively reaching out for his arm to keep him somewhat close. 

He laughed, openly, warm. “That might’ve ended worse.”

A comfortable silence fell in the room after your chuckles died down. Both of you staring at each other with the sweetness of two madly in love idiots. All flushed lips, red cheeks, and stupid smiles.

—

“And then what happened?” Erwin asked while flipping through pages of planning, the words he had written already mixing together from how long he had been staring at them, and how late it already was.

Miche stood by the window, looking out to the empty grounds below them. “I told him she’d be lying down in the carriage, probably more comfortable.”

“Mhm.”

“And he argued she’d be alone, very solemnly.”

“He did not.” Erwin dropped the papers, turning on his chair to meet Miche’s gaze, the other man already snickering to himself.

“He did, and then he just took her away. And I’m completely certain he kissed her hair when they got on the horse.” Miche whispered the last part, as if he was sharing the most confidential work information he could ever manage to get his hands on.

“In front of everyone?” Erwin stared at him dumbfounded, imagining the scene he described before letting out a quiet laugh.

He watched you a lot. Enough to know that you were always late for breakfast, trained yourself to the bones even on your off days, volunteered to help around with anything you could, and were particularly good at mending clothes. He knew you liked eating with Hange almost every night, and it was the part of your day he enjoyed the most. On each of those nights he followed the two of you into the mess hall, sitting far enough that Hange wouldn’t get the idea of asking him to join, but still giving himself the appropriate distance to observe you. To commit to memory every little detail he could, how you ate, how you sat, what you talked about, if your nose also scrunched up at the disgusting taste of the tea everyone but him was subjected to; any information he could gather before the sound of your laugh warmed his chest enough to make him leave.

Truthfully, he could have kept that stalker-ish routine going for ages, and he fully intended to; being able to keep his distance while still getting the smallest doses of you seemed like an ideal arrangement in his mind.

It wasn’t until one damning night that he decided this restrictive mindset had to change. He saw you walking with another recruit, late, and alone. He couldn’t properly hear whatever wildly amusing conversation you were having from where he stood; regardless of that, he could still clearly make out the faint sound of your laugh accompanying it. 

The small scene was enough to break him from his ridiculous self-imposed prison. Levi didn’t want to allow himself to indulge in his desires for you. He didn’t feel he deserved to be with you in any capacity further than working alongside each other. Despite that, the idea that someone else could come in and take from him the possibility of a chance with you was much more mortifying than his own insecurities and concerns.

From that alone, he made the decision to allow himself a sliver of your time. And so, the very next day you were graced with your first private conversation with the captain, if you could even call it that.

He approached you after you were done with training, standing against a wooden beam trying to steady your breathing, hair messy, and sweat coating your forehead. 

“Your stance was horrible today.” The abruptness of his presence and his comment caught you off guard.

“What?” You looked at him with a puzzled look, processing whether he was actually addressing you or not.

“During training. You were terrible.” He explained, his tone maintaining its harshness despite your confusion.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so, I’m out of my element today.” You explained plainly, a half-smile tugging on your lips both at the bluntness, and the fact this was probably the first time he came up to you alone.

“And yesterday as well.” 

“Right.”

“You’re not sleeping well.” More of a statement than a question, the dark circles you've been sporting this week probably gave it away.

“I've been having a hard time with it, yes.”

He gave you a firm nod, pursing his lips together in thought. 

“I’ll come find you tonight, I have a tea for that.” He turned around the moment he finished without a second look, not giving you an actual chance to accept or refuse.

Since then, the two of you started a small routine. He’d look for you after dinner and guide you on a brief walk to the top floor of the main building. A teapot and two cups already placed on the window ledge in the back of the room, with a singular candle lit close by; he hoped that the minimal amount of light would make his intense gaze less noticeable. 

It was supposed to last only for however long you were struggling to sleep but continued far past those days. Most times he wouldn’t talk, only listened; he’d let you rattle on about the day if you pleased, indulging you by participating in idle gossip.

“I can reprimand them for that. I trust you’re aware.” He’d slip in when you shared a little too much about the escapades of some recruits, forgetting for a moment he had recently become your superior. 

“Well, this is all alleged. Maybe I didn’t hear it right. This tea is great by the way; is it a different kind?" A blush creeping up your cheeks while you attempted to change the subject, looking at him with a sheepish smile that begged him to forget your prior information.

It took a few weeks, but he started contributing with topics of his own little by little. An opinion, a small anecdote, a complaint. Slowly chipping away at the facade of mystery and harshness that used to be all you got from him before. A part of Levi worried that the more you learnt about him, the less interested you’ll be, but the enjoyment he got from your small interactions vastly outweighed that concern.

A year into meeting you, Levi had grown accustomed to having you near him, even if for brief moments. He enjoyed your company and physically couldn't continue hiding it from you. He still kept enough distance to make his ever-growing feelings unknown to everyone else, and didn’t properly confess anything to you, but his advances grew slightly bolder. 

Your nightly routine changed a lot from how it originally started. Moving from ten minutes of sipping tea in a semipublic space to secluded meetings in the dead of night. Going as far as sneaking you in his private quarters when he came back from travels you were not part of. 

Being away from you became the key that pushed your connection forward. Every time he came back, he wanted to have you around for the night, and he needed the certainty that you wouldn’t be interrupted; the reassurance of it enabled him to make these encounters last for hours.

He sat in a wooden chair next to his desk, beckoning you closer with a simple command. “Show me what happened.”

“You can’t see the bruise with my uniform on.” You argued with a stifled laugh; you had complained to him about a minor injury you sustained recently, something insignificant that happened while he was gone.

“Then change.”

You stared at him bewildered.

“Do I have to do it for you?” His stern tone didn’t falter; it would’ve seemed like an order more than playful teasing, if it wasn’t for how relaxed he looked.

“You returned as tactful as ever, I see.” You laughed, amused at his actions. You made your way to the bedroom, missing the smirk on his face.

You returned to the room in a thin nightgown that made Levi tense at the sight, hands tucking into fists on his lap before relaxing again. His hand sprawled on the back of your right thigh without question once you stood in front of him, pulling it closer to properly view the wide bruise on the outer side of it; purplish hues going from your mid-thigh to the bottom of your glute. 

“This is nothing to you?” It came out softer than he intended. Thinking of you being hurt when he wasn’t around, no matter how little, lowered his guard. 

“It looks worse than it is.”

His hand carefully grazed the bruise, hiking up the edge of your gown in the process. You shivered at the touch. Goosebumps covered your skin, and it did not go unnoticed by him. “Does it hurt?”

“No. I think this helps.” You humored, not bothering to hide your enjoyment of his treatment. 

“I’m sure it does, brat.” He smiled, small, but enough for you to notice. His hand still caressing your leg despite his response.

It took Levi five years to make his feelings for you properly known. But it’s not like you, or others, hadn’t suspected them before that. Despite keeping the matter private, much like most things about him, sometimes he struggled to adequately hide that he had a soft spot for you.

He never outright said he cared about you, never properly held you, but all the things he did do, they proved to be more intimate and sweeter than any regular courting could ever be.

For your first birthday after joining the Corps he went out of his way to gift you a treat from a bakery in your home district. It became a tradition that he fulfilled every year since; he’d go as far as getting it for you in advance if an expedition took place around the date, just in case one of you didn't make it back after.

In your second year, after an expedition where two members of your graduating class were tragically lost, he sneaked you into his quarters every night for a week—Both Erwin and Hange knew but they didn’t say word of it—he’d lay you down next to him, let you cry out your grieve for as long as you needed to, and patiently waited until you grew tired enough to sleep to get some shut-eye of his own.

“I’ll never get used to it, will I?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

“No.” While your eyes were glued to the ceiling, Levi’s gaze was fixed on you. His expression was unreadable as usual, but he was completely tormented, wishing he could take this hurt away from you.

“Am I being weak?”

“You’re being human.”

“That’s a yes.” You smiled, attempting to joke, yet the humor in your voice didn’t reach your eyes. Tears fell down in a stream, and Levi had to try his hardest not to reach out and wipe them off your cheeks. “I just—” Your voice broke. To him, the sound evoked a feeling adjacent to being stabbed. “I feel I should be stronger than this. I shouldn’t be surprised over what I signed up for.”

“You’re not surprised; you’re hurt.” Levi chastised, shifting his position to look at you properly. “You did your job, you don’t have to be strong now. Now stop this nonsense of acting like it's shameful to grieve. At least don't do it with me.” 

You didn’t say anything—instead looking back at the ceiling while your hand found his arm, curling up to his side when the tears started burning your eyes once again.

He didn’t try to hold you, but he didn’t pull away. Even after you fell asleep. 

In your third year, when Erwin told him he’d be pulling you out of his team to make you a squad leader, he became sick almost immediately. The notion that you would no longer be under his supervision, that even if you went on the same expeditions as he did, he’d have to wait until the very end before he could know if you were still alive. It circled his head all morning and gave him a headache so outstanding he had to dismiss himself from training that afternoon. 

“What do you think?” Erwin ended the silence that persisted since he broke the news. 

Levi stared absentmindedly. “I think she’ll be a fantastic leader.”

“Is that it?”

“Are you asking for my permission?”

“No, I simply respect you enough to ask for your opinion.” 

“Unless you’re willing to put my preferences above what’s best for humanity, don't ask for my opinion on what you should do with her.”

“Because your preference would be to retire her immediately?” Erwin prodded, with no real expectation for Levi to speak up. It wasn’t the first time he brought you up, and it wouldn’t be the last if Levi kept refusing to trust him with this information. “You don’t have to answer that. I understand you want to avoid telling me what I already know.”

Following your change in rank, the order of retreating met Levi with a wave of asphyxiating dread rather than relief, one that didn’t dissipate until he was able to spot you on your horse, still breathing and in one piece. These concerns were never brought up to you or anyone else for that matter—despite Erwin being aware and willing to speak with him about it if he could just be honest—even if his fear of losing you and not being able to do anything about it grew stronger with every expedition, he kept his worries regarding your well-being private. You always returned; he had no reason to discuss anything he felt. If you were alive and well, he’d be able to mask his love for you for a while longer.

It wasn’t until your fifth year as a member of the Survey Corps when his ‘while longer’ ended. When he had to come to terms with his fears, and his feelings.

He kept his composure as best as he could while going through the list of those dead and missing with Erwin, watching other scouts load bodies into carriages, though he’s sure it did not go unnoticed how tightly he was gripping his gear while he waited for every name to be read. Even then, after all bodies were loaded, the trek to the walls started, and confirmation that you were not one of those lost received; his heartbeat did not return to a healthy rhythm. He needed to see you.

This was the most stressed he ever felt trying to find you after an expedition. Deep down, he could feel something about today was different, as if you not being okay was something he could physically feel. And it didn’t help the fact that it took him so long to spot you; carriages and horses already on the move to safety without him being able to catch a single glimpse of you. 

Every second that passed he could feel his body tense further, cold sweat reaching his palms, a knot tight in his throat that only got tighter the moment he saw you. That sickening feeling of dread he thought he had grown used to crashed down on him and threatened to finish him right then and there. He spotted you being carried by Miche when he made it past the wall. Your body limp in his hold, your inability to even keep your head up made Levi assume the worst and had him rush in your direction before he even realized it.

He got off the horse calm and collected, as if his heart wasn’t threatening to rip itself out of his chest. His relief upon seeing you were still breathing was immediate, yet short-lived as he paid more attention to your injuries. Your left thigh and arm were bandaged. There was blood all over you, dripping from your nose, your mouth, and the seams of the binds on your wounded limbs; you must’ve been hurt close before the order to retreat was given.

It made him sick and brought a vile sting to his eyes, a sensation he had long forgotten.

“She’s okay.” Miche assured him, smiling lightly at how Levi was frowning at you as though telepathically reprimanding you for getting to this state. “Nothing’s broken, but she’s weak. She couldn’t keep riding.”

Levi nodded firmly, not trusting himself to speak right away. He reached under your body, taking you in his arms with little protest from the other man. “I’ll take her. I don’t want her in a carriage.”

“She’d be laying down.” Miche pointed out yet still took a step back once Levi had a solid hold on you, not really wanting to interfere. 

“She’d be alone.” 

Miche nodded, holding back his reaction at what the captain was displaying, and promptly retreating to his horse; more than ready to get back and tell Erwin about this little interaction. 

You were conscious enough to hear the conversation, although far too drained to register the worry behind Levi’s tone let alone comment on it. You had half a mind to realize he carried you back to his horse, helping you on it before getting behind you. He took a hold of the handle and took off in a slow ride, while his left arm went around your waist, keeping you tucked back against him.

One of your hands went to his forearm, giving it a small squeeze to show your acknowledgement before relaxing again.

“Are you okay?” He questioned quietly. Not that anyone would be able to hear him past the sound of hooves against the ground and the many murmurs of civilians watching them pass by. 

You turned your head enough to look at him out of the corner of your eye. The concern written all over his face almost made you forget the waves of pain crashing through you. You nodded, small, before letting the back of your head rest on his shoulder; the tiny action having wasted the remainder of your energy.

“Liar.” He murmured against your hair, the touch of his lips against your scalp so fleeting you could only assume you imagined it. 

That night Levi had been more consumed in his own thoughts than he would have appreciated. You were out most of the ride back to the base; the only thing keeping you upright was his firm hold on you that didn’t falter once. He spent that time wondering what happened, how did you injure yourself, did somebody help you, did you have to drag yourself all the way to your horse and pretend you didn’t feel so bad until it was inevitable?

He imagined every single heartbreaking scenario his brain could come up with, images of you crying out while you bled in the woods flashed through his mind, torturing himself with the idea that maybe you had been near him, maybe you even called out for him and he didn’t hear it, trying to find ways to blame himself for your poor state.

He woke you gently once you made it to the base, helping you off the horse and onto your feet, guiding you to wrap an arm over his shoulder to steady yourself when you were unable to suppress your limping. Everything was a blur for you, every step you took forgotten when the next one happened.

You could remember briefly smiling at Hange when she approached the two of you, catching some of their conversation, and Levi whisking you away before you could manage a goodbye.

“You really busted yourself out there.” You chuckled at her comment and winced immediately after, a stabbing pain reaching your ribs, the mixed noise making her laugh. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, not getting the time to answer before Levi interjected. “She is.” He stated, adjusting his grasp on your hip when you clutched your side.

“Right… I’ll get one of the scouts to take her to the infirmary. Erwin wants to talk to us.” 

“No.” Levi spoke up before Hange could even attempt turning on her heel. “I will take care of it, and I’ll go to his office after. Tell him I’ll only be a moment.” He kept walking without another word, not giving her any time to make a comment on his behavior.

He took you to his quarters, helping you out of your stained cloak and muddied boots before starting to undo the soaked bandages on your limbs. He seemed unaffected by the sight he was met with, the gashes and lacerations covered in dried blood were nothing he hadn’t seen before; but the fact that they were on your body, it brought a shake to his hands he was completely unfamiliar with and he thanked the heavens you were too busy scrunching your eyes together at the stinging feel of him cleaning the open wounds to notice it.

You don’t know if you talked, if he asked you anything, you don’t think so. The only thing you committed to memory was the feel of hardened hands touching you in the softest ways imaginable, guiding you to his bed when he was done and easing you into laying down. He caressed your face before he moved away; the way he looked at you a mixture of longing and thinly veiled restraint.

He left almost as soon as he laid you down, knowing that if you said anything, if you made even the slightest sound, he’d discard his meeting altogether to lay next to you. 

Levi came back less than an hour after with a thick bag under his arm, having raided your room before coming to gather anything you might need. He was being exceedingly obvious today; he knew more than well his friends no longer needed a heartfelt confession to know exactly why he had been so special to you in the past five years with how he's behaved, but for once he couldn’t care less about that matter. 

He found you just as he had left you, now asleep with your mouth slightly agape. Your messy hair tussled all around was the only indication that you moved while he was gone. He pulled a chair next to the bed, not wanting to risk waking you up; ready to patiently wait until he could get you out of your filthy, blood-stained uniform. Your change of clothes and a clean set of sheets awaiting next to him already.

He doesn’t know how long you were asleep for, but it continued through enough hours for him to follow suit at some point.

He vaulted out of the chair when you woke up with a loud cry; the sound was completely gut-wrenching. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?!” He grabbed you by the shoulders with a desperate pull, his eyes searching for yours. The sting of tears threatening to break free he felt earlier returned with a vengeance when you coughed up blood, tears streaming down your face. 

“Talk to me, angel. Please.” He begged, hands reaching for your face, wiping your tears. You didn’t speak, didn’t explain what was ailing you, instead your cries became louder, deafening. 

Levi could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, and before he could do anything, more blood came out of your mouth, then your nose, then from your wounds, white bandages drowned in the crimson red liquid. He couldn’t find the words; he didn’t even know what to do. He frantically moved around the room, searching for anything to wipe the blood with, to apply pressure and stop this someway.

Before he knew it, his own eyes were welled up with tears as he desperately tried to stop you from bleeding out, the sound of your crying overwhelming him completely. 

“You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” He repeated like a mantra, the room spinning around him when he looked at the pool of blood under you. He wiped his tears with his forearm. His heartbeat grew louder, and the sound of it seemed to echo through the room.

You wouldn’t stop crying, and God, you wouldn’t stop bleeding, it was futile to try. Your hands went to his shoulders, bringing him closer to you while you sobbed hysterically. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly, crying onto your hair, hopelessly clinging to you. “I can’t do anything. Please forgive me, angel. Please.” He wept, his grip tightening the quieter your cries became; your energy depleted the longer you kept bleeding. 

“Don’t leave me.” It became uncontrollable; he felt completely out of himself, the sound of his thunderous heartbeat, the feel of your blood on his hands, the pain in his chest crushing him further and further. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Levi?... Levi.” He woke up with a jolt to see you standing above him, mind completely fogged by the images his brain came up with. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, looking around the now empty bed then back to your fragile frame. 

The glow of the moon coming from the window was the only source of light, but it was enough to see you properly; not in tears, and not bleeding out. Instead, you were looking at him with a puzzled expression, an arm cradling your midsection as you tried your best to stand upright.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m—” He closed his mouth before continuing, rubbing his eyes before he looked at you again, a slight wet feeling coating his fingertips—was he crying?—it was just a dream. “Don’t worry. Is something wrong?” 

“I wanted to get out of all this blood. But I could barely make it a few steps past the bed.”

He hummed, burying his face in his hands for a moment, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll help you.” His eyes found you again, narrowed. Going over every inch of your body to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, to prove to himself that you wouldn’t randomly start bleeding out in front of him. He debated telling you about his dream, telling you about how worried he was earlier and how the stress of his concerns was swallowing him whole right now, but that would mean delving into a conversation he’s unsure he’d be good at. Maybe he’ll need to practice it.

He walked you to the bathroom, arm stretched out for you to hold onto through every step. “You look terrible.” He murmured, helping you stand in front of the small tub. 

“Aren’t you sweet.” You laughed dryly, slowly loosening your grip on his forearm to let him stand back.

You and Levi stared at each other willfully, both waiting for the other to take the next step. 

“Can you do it alone?” He asked while reaching for the top button of your shirt, undoing it slowly, waiting for you to form a response, groggy and restless voice adding something new to his usual stoic tone. 

You wanted to object, tell him he didn’t need to continue. But you were sure you’d end up falling face first on the floor at some point if he wasn’t holding onto you. “Maybe I could.”

“Sure.” He muttered, gaze focused on where his hands started to undo the rest of your shirt, a deep frown covering his features at the side of fresh red bruises covering your left side. 

He carefully undid the bandages on your arm to slowly slide off the shirt. You didn’t care to watch his movements; you couldn’t look away from his face, how concentrated he was, how troubled he seemed over your wounds. It made you smile, both that and the pink tint of his cheeks when he exposed you further. 

If you knew him less, you would’ve asked him to kiss you right then and there, but by now you knew well his only answer to that would be questioning if you were concussed.

Levi kept himself from speaking. Too focused on the crushing weight in his heart over the sight of your bruised and battered frame, a weight that grew more draining the more of your clothes he got rid off. 

His mind also trotted over the idea of kissing you. He thought about it every single day, but now more than ever he wished he had done so before. That way he could pepper every single inch of your body with small soothing kisses now and it wouldn’t be strange, there wouldn’t be a possibility of you freaking out, because by now you would’ve been used to his affections. 

If only he had been braver about it before. 

He desperately wished to hold you tenderly in his arms, to caress your skin and kiss you senselessly, trusting that every bit of his devotion would help you forget about the pain you must be feeling.

“What happened?” He helped you stand above the drain, squeezing your hand before letting you stand on your own. He soaked a cloth before he started carefully scrubbing your arms, trying his best to not pressure the slash on your left arm into bleeding again.

“It was my stupidity. One of my scouts was kicked off his horse, and a titan was going to grab him, and I— It was impulsive. I threw myself at them and I didn’t realize another titan was coming. It was a big mess and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” You yawned between your sentences, watching him with tired eyes, following his hands whenever he bent to dampen the cloth and settling back on his face when he returned; his eyebrows furrowed at your anecdote. “I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened, I just know I flew through more trees than I would like, and when I finally got my cables to stick to something I was hanging two inches from the floor and looked like this.”

Levi stayed silent for a moment, trying to picture the situation, as if that helped him in any way. “How did you get on your horse?” 

“Miche found me. I would have only been able to drag myself until I found someone. It’s hard to lift this leg.” His grip on your waist tightened at the notion, his eyes now meeting yours to avoid staring at where he scrubbed on your chest, ever-present frown adorning his features.

Levi saw the images of your explanation vividly in his mind; he could clearly see you dragging yourself out of the woods in fear that you wouldn’t make it, as if it actually happened, as if he had been present. It was completely nauseating. “I’m sorry.” His hands stopped, both settled firmly on your hips, indifferent to his proximity and your bare skin.

“For what?”

“I could’ve been there.” 

One of your hands reached his bicep, tentatively caressing him. “Don’t do that.”

He pursed his lips together; he knew it was ridiculous to upset himself over something he had no control over, and yet he couldn’t stop. He stayed silent, instead opting to watch you get closer, your hands rubbing up and down his arms to ease him. The delicate body he’s grown to yearn for standing less than an inch away from him, laid bare for his eyes only.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” He murmured, tense muscles taut under your touch as it rose up to his shoulders then back down to the front of his chest. 

“I know, but you seem to be more troubled than I am. I may need help getting up, but you’re looking at me like I’m dying.”

“I just don’t know what to do with myself.” Levi let himself get closer, his hands hesitantly moving to your back. “Seeing you like this.”

“I’ve been hurt before.” Your tone was confused, and he hated that it urged him to continue.

“Not like this. Not when I’m not around.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I was not by your side.”

“I lied.”

You couldn’t help the weak laugh that left your lips, looking away from him as you tried to retrieve your composure. 

“Are my worries amusing to you?” His gaze narrowed, not in his usual scowl—in dismay.

You shook your head, a hand coming up to caress his face, looking at him with nothing but utter reverence. “I’m more than appreciative of your worries. But I do find it humorous that I have to come back like this for you to say these things.” 

The time seemed to stand still between you. Patient, as always, you waited; letting him find the words he’s been struggling to muster. He hated how difficult this was; to expose feelings he has been certain of for years. “Sit, we need to wash your hair.”

You sighed, hands dropping from him with a small nod. He helped you sit in the middle of the tub, kneeling down on the floor next to you, holding onto a small water pitcher with trembling hands. 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of water slowly dripping onto your scalp, finally relishing in a soothing feeling. “Don’t look at me when I say this." His voice was low, unusually unsteady, despite being completely certain of his words. "I’m terrified of losing you.”

Your lips pursed together, trying your best to keep yourself from turning your head; wanting to indulge him if it meant being able to hear what he had to confess. “Why?” You asked quietly, eyes stuck to the water falling from your shoulders, bloody and muddy dark streaks slowly disappearing, becoming clearer the more his fingers helped brush water through the thick locks of hair.

Silence lingered for a moment. The only sound being the slow rush of water, and Levi’s deep breaths. He could do this, if there’s someone he could say anything to, it was you. So why did his chest ache this much?

“I’ve belonged to you from the moment I met you.” Levi’s voice came out ragged, broken. His hands softly brushed through your hair, moving back the strands that fell on your face. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “And I don’t know what will be of me if the only reason I hold any hope for the future is no longer with me.”

You couldn’t help meeting his gaze, lips parting and closing with suppressed praises. To hear something that gentle, romantic, out of the very lips you’ve wished had graced yours long before today; it could’ve been enough to push you through every day of your life from now on. 

The way you were looking at him was his undoing, a softness he did not deserve, and that he could only ever receive from you. He watched you uneasy, his throat running dry, unsure of what he was even waiting for. “Please say something.”

Words evaded you completely, too stuck on repeating that sweet confession over and over again in your head. Instead of coming up with some clever poetry of your equal feelings, you did the one thing you knew no amount of prodding would make him do. 

Your hands slowly reached for him, cupping his face to bring him closer to you. And you waited, for a moment; not wanting to miss how he relaxed, how he gave in. Only then did your lips meet his with a tenderness that made Levi’s stomach flutter. 

One of his hands went to the back of your neck, long fingers twisting into your hair, keeping your lips flush against his while he inched closer to you. His free hand gripped the back edge of the tub, his body looming above yours, completely trapping you under him. 

The kiss was searing and all consuming. As if you were trying to pour into him every unsaid word; as if Levi was trying to make up for every single moment he wished your lips had been on his. It grew desperate within seconds, teeth clashing and noses bumping while both of you tried to absorb each other’s oxygen.

It’s only when you tried to wrap your arms around his neck to drag him down did you break away, wincing at the sting from a gash on your bicep.

Levi immediately tensed when you stopped. “I’m sorry.” His voice was breathless, a small whisper followed by him pulling back, softened gaze raking over you to make sure he didn’t hurt you. 

“It’s my fault, I should’ve waited until we were laying down.” You quipped, instinctively reaching out for his arm to keep him somewhat close. 

He laughed, openly, warm. “That might’ve ended worse.”

A comfortable silence fell in the room after your chuckles died down. Both of you staring at each other with the sweetness of two madly in love idiots. All flushed lips, red cheeks, and stupid smiles.

—

“And then what happened?” Erwin asked while flipping through pages of planning, the words he had written already mixing together from how long he had been staring at them, and how late it already was.

Miche stood by the window, looking out to the empty grounds below them. “I told him she’d be lying down in the carriage, probably more comfortable.”

“Mhm.”

“And he argued she’d be alone, very solemnly.”

“He did not.” Erwin dropped the papers, turning on his chair to meet Miche’s gaze, the other man already snickering to himself.

“He did, and then he just took her away. And I’m completely certain he kissed her hair when they got on the horse.” Miche whispered the last part, as if he was sharing the most confidential work information he could ever manage to get his hands on.

“In front of everyone?” Erwin stared at him dumbfounded, imagining the scene he described before letting out a quiet laugh.