#jutshg

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“Is this a fucking joke to you?”

Levi halted. It wasn’t her language but the authority in her voice, the unrelenting command, that brought him up short. And that made him angry. He turned, slowly, letting his boot heels scrape hideously across the flagstone. “Am I laughing, brat?”

Mikasa stood in the doorway, steam rising from her bare arms and shoulders, one hand keeping her towel wrapped around her body and the other fisted against her side. She glowered at him from beneath damp fringe. “I know you get off by bossing people around, but your power trip can surely wait until we’re decent.”

He advanced, coming to stand nearly toe to toe with her. She didn’t waver. Didn’t even blink. “Forgive me, Ackerman, but you’re hardly ever decent.”

A twitch formed in her right eye. “And you’re hardly decorous.” Sasha hissed something under her breath, making a futile grab for Mikasa’s arm, catching the edge of her towel instead. Mikasa shrugged her off. “Your lecture can wait,” she enunciated, low and measured, leaning the slightest amount into his space.

The towel. The damned towel. Sasha had tugged a bit too hard. Mikasa realized the same moment he did, both of them looking down at her exposed left breast, at the light-brown nipple piqued in the cold air. Any rational thought evaporated from Levi’s brain like the steam swirling around them. Mikasa covered herself almost in the same instant Levi yanked his gaze back to her face. Firmly on her face. She didn’t appear too flustered. In fact, she was speaking. To him. She was saying something to him, but he didn’t hear a damn word.

I’ve finally had a break and some time to continue where I left off on JUTSHG! I can’t guarantee an exact update time yet, but you all have been so patient and encouraging, so have an abridged, fluffy scene between Rivamika from chapter 6...

According to Hange, it would take about four days to reach Sina. Three if they pushed.

Mikasa didn’t feel much like sightseeing, so three it was going to be.

It was the evening before her departure, as she was helping Levi tie down the tarpaulin for the boat—which was looking more and more like a sailing vessel than a ligneous carcass by the day—that Mikasa found a name for the blade lodged the deepest in her gut and voiced it: “You’re not going to sail away while I’m gone, are you?”

There was a delay to Levi’s reply, his hands slowing, slowing their square knot task until they just held the rope. He blinked at her with inscrutable gray eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.” Mikasa wanted to distance herself from the topic now. “Didn’t think so.”

He tested the knot by tugging at the tarpaulin. “When was the last time you went back?”

It was Mikasa who drew the silence this time, in part because she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d returned to the walls. “Almost four years.”

Levi nodded, face impassive. There was something else he wanted to say. She could feel it. Instead, he gave the ropes one final tug and said, “well, I’ll be here when you return.”

She almost let him leave, let him take that brooding energy and whatever unspoken something he held with him. Almost. “Levi.” He halted immediately, and immediately she realized she had no idea what to say. He waited, not quite looking at her, like one doesn’t quite look at a wary horse, letting her lead. She became aware, too, of a power she held in all this; it was evident in the aberrant softness of his gaze and the ever-stretching silence between them. She didn’t like this kind of power.

Finally, mercifully, Levi took a breath, breaking the tension. Then he approached, stopping only when he was well inside her personal space. She could smell the soap he used to wash his clothes, a scent she realized she’d been familiar with for a long time. As well, she’d grown accustomed to the little flips her stomach did whenever he was this close to her—which meant, perhaps, her body was as fallible as it was mechanical.

There was a pause, a suspended moment when neither breathed, and all she could do was stare at him staring at her mouth, her neck, back to her mouth. His hand lifted, fingers kissing just the barest touch across her throat, down her clavicle.

After months (several omg) away and what felt like an endless chisel to stone motion on this chapter...suddenly, I look up and it’s done. I just need to do a final read through to catch any glaring errors, but I should be able to upload this bad boy before end of day.

Thank you all again for your unfailing support! I hope this near-20 page chapter serves as suitable appreciation for your patience!