[indefinite hiatus]

She’s biting her lip and Levi has the insane urge to kiss her. He wants to remember, but the doctors told them it might take some time. A concussion, head trauma, there are too many medical terms for Levi to make sense of, but Petra took diligent notes and distilled the information for him. 

They’re staying in an old barrack. Petra tearfully tells him their house was destroyed in The Rumbling since their home was tucked on the outskirts of the city, just by the Walls. Flashes of images and screams sober Levi until his throat bobs with fear. Gently, Petra takes his hand while she gives a furtive smile despite the ring on her finger. A matching one is around his neck—gold—and he isn’t sure if he should put it back on with the missing digits on his left hand. 

It’s only been a day since they settled in and Petra pads around him like a wounded animal while she adjusts his pillows. 

“Did you have a nice nap? The doctor said you need lots of rest.” 

There’s something off. Levi can’t tell what it is; he gets the sense he isn’t great with people by his clipped tone, but Petra’s kind nature has him wondering how he managed to land her. There’s apprehension in her eyes like she wants to say more than pleasantries. 

He scoots to the side of the bed, which is big enough for two, and he asks if she’ll be joining him tonight. 

Petra stiffens and an adorable yelp escapes her while she smoothes out the nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt. “I don’t want to intrude. The couch is fine.” She waves her hand to the hallway where a dusty set of furniture awaits her.

He can’t help but tease her with a smirk. “I thought we were married.” 

“We are,” she says quickly. “But I understand if you don’t want a stranger in your bed—“

“Petra, if I’m going to remember anything, I think having my wife nearby will help.” He means it even if he enjoys catching her off guard and his voice softens. “Can you sit with me and tell me about our life? I want to hear about our wedding.” 

A girlish smile escapes Petra and she sits at the edge of the bed. Too far away for Levi’s liking, but she takes her time as she traces patterns into the sheets, her voice laced with honeyed nostalgia. 

“It was a quick one. We had it the day we came back from discovering the ocean. It was just Hange and the kids, but it was special. Our honeymoon without worrying about Titans was probably my favorite part.” She giggles then, coughing into her hand, but her eyes harden into solemnity. 

“Levi, there’s something else you need to know.” She faces him, her amber eyes like the north star in the light. “After our wedding, I got pregnant.” 

And like shattering glass, he feels a part of his heart open into an ache he didn’t know he was missing. Petra is next to him now, her hand atop his into a beautiful smile. “Kuchel is waiting for you. She’s with my parents and she knows you were in Marley. It’s a lot for a three-year-old to handle so I didn’t want to bring her right away or overwhelm you, but it felt strange not saying anything. I don’t expect you to do anything—“

“I have a daughter,” he says in disbelief, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. 

“Yes,” she affirms. “She’s beautiful, baby. She has your eyes and my hair and you’re her favorite person in the world. She misses her papa.”

Levi sees her, then. A small infant, his world becoming right in a breathless second, and moments of crying and gurgling hit him like a hurricane. 

He grunts and peers to the horizon. “I owe Erwin another Titan capture for a week off.” Then his voice lowers while he smirks, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear. “But it’ll be worth it. You, me, a cabin in the woods alone.”

A shudder washes over Petra, her breath hitching as her legs press together. “That sounds amazing,” she whispers. Levi traces a line from her ear to her cheek, then captures her lips in a kiss. Sixty days. Only sixty more days until they will be husband and wife. Levi never thought he’d be the one for semantics on a piece of paper, but he proposed first. He wants everyone to know that she was his. 

And maybe in this shitty world, maybe a declaration of love is daring. 

Petra always dared.

Fate had other plans, though. Levi didn’t plan on coming back to the old barracks — a lifetime ago, with the ghosts of comrades in the stray socks and personal items strewn about. He supposes after Stohess, he wants to decompress, and he finds it hard at an inn. There’s comfort in the routine; his tea, the roaring fireplace, where you hang your laundry. 

No one talks about the company, though. All of these things are haunting as his footsteps echo the empty halls of the once vibrant Special Ops Barracks. Dust lines every corner, and streaks of light pour through the open curtains. One of Eld’s hair ties is on the sink even though Levi told him to put it away. Gunther’s comb remains in place under the mirror. Oluo’s lotion that he swore by. 

Petra’s things aren’t here. That’s in his bathroom after she unofficially moved into his bedroom. 

There’s a rap at the door that shakes Levi from his memories. Frowning, unsure of who could be visiting while the Scouts were put on temporary disbandment, he opens the door, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. 

There’s a courier with a large white box in his hands. 

“Delivery, sir!” the courier says, dropping the box carefully at Levi’s feet. He holds a clipboard out to Levi and procures a pen from his pocket. “Sign here, please.” 

“I didn’t order anything,” Levi protests, but lazily scrawls his signature.

“Well, someone did. And we have specific instructions it needed to be delivered by September first. Good day.” He tips his hat and is off before Levi can inquire further. 

Levi brings the unlabeled box to the dining room. Cobwebs weave the sconces together, and he viciously bats them away while striking a match to the nearest oil lamp. The box is too large and light to be gear, and all packages like that go through the admin office first. No, this is personal, and a sick feeling of violation churns in his stomach. Whoever’s this is, he can send it to their family, one last gift. 

Opening the lid, the air knocks from Levi’s lungs. Vision dizzy, he steadies himself on the table, his palm slapping the wood. It’s bad enough that she haunts his dreams, but seeing this—

It’s Petra’s wedding dress. 

He recalls the day she went into Trost with Nifa and Nanaba. Giggling, with coy smiles and puckered lips, she teased him about all the outlandish accessories she was going to buy just to embarrass him. 

“You’re embarrassing yourself by marrying me, no amount of gaudiness is going to compare.”

He’d forgotten all about it. She mentioned the seamstress said it would take a while and between Trost and Eren, the only reminder Levi has is her ring around his neck.

Holding the dress out, he can see her form. Her height, just a few inches shy of him. The pink ribbon around the waist, how she admitted to wanting a romantic wedding with roses everywhere. Embarrassed by the fact, Levi assured her no one would lose respect for her over a couple of flowers. 

“Go fucking crazy. Get them in your hair. How many times in your life can you order a ton of flowers?”

The veil is simple, and Levi’s throat tightens at the image of roses creating a crown over her. More like a halo now, and he tightly holds the dress to his chest. He closes his eyes. 

“I still think she’s a bit young to get married…”

Every father would say that. Levi wasn’t old-fashioned enough to ask for permission, but Petra was overjoyed at the prospect of her father walking her down the aisle. 

“He never thought I’d get married with my commitment to the Scouts.” She bats her eyelashes at Levi. “Who would’ve thought I could have both?”

He sways to an aimless tune as he holds the dress. He imagines Petra’s smile, how she would’ve cried and he’d tell her she’s being too sappy even though he’d feel the same way. 

The fabric is soft beneath his fingers and he thinks how white is fitting for a bride.