#levi au

You see, Levi isn't the kind of guy who likes being touchy.

You remembered asking him something you read in an article called conversation-starters-for-the-first-date—on the topic of love languages. You already knew which ones he'd say now, not a surprise, of course back then you didn’t. But even so, you kind of have gotten enough of a vibe during that first date that made you not consider physical touch to be one of the probable options.

Now that you’ve been together for about three months, the memory of it somehow found its way back up from the depths of your temporal lobe and into the front of your mind—made you ponder on it. 

The more you think about it, the more it slowly begins to become funny since you realize that you never questioned it either. 

Don't get it wrong, he loves you. Too much sometimes. But ever since the very beginning of your little love story, it became harder to recall at least five times he’d held your hand in public and barely ten times at home.

So that kind of made it easy to pick out those small, cute moments, like wrapping his pinky to your pinky.

Even hugging you was a rare emote, or holding you for no fucking reason. It definitely wasn't because he didn't like touching you, god no. Levi once joked about you being the only other thing he liked the feeling of touching. With the sole exception of himself and his dick.

He brushed it off as a joke but you were sure there was some truth to it. Most of it.

Admittedly, you were clingy, so maybe you were just overthinking the lack of grand cuddles and overbearing-reciprocated clinginess. You also don't quite remember a time when you asked him about it along the lines of; "Don't you want to hold my hand?"—or say something like; "You act like I'm dirty with how little you touch me." 

Intimately speaking, this—minimal-physical-touch-thing wasn't really a problem because fuck, Levi was good in bed—in you. Every other touch instance beyond that? You can count them with all twenty of your fingers. Yes, including feet fingers. 

However...since you have been letting your brain be occupied by these thoughts, you eventually started seeing the minority you didn’t count. Especially that one little thing Levi does with you that your mind often lets slip from your memory.

Cats.

Cats have this thing they do—what was it called?

Ah,

Nuzzling.

When the idea first crossed your mind, best believe you crashed into your bed and smacked your laptop open to confirm something.

“...cat nuzzling...feline...f, e, l, i...” you mumbled as your fingers flew across your keyboard, typing the thought away before you forgot about it. 

“AHA!...itisafelinebehaviorwhereacatgentlyrubstheirheadandfaceagainstyou—HAH!” You semi-rapped the definition part out of pure excitement. The aha and hah’s you’d yelled out had Levi poking his head into your room asking if the reaction came from you figuring out how to multiply his detergent stock without spending twice the money. 

The way your eyes looked up to him slowly plus the growing grin of your face said otherwise. It made him recoil, “what?” his eyes narrowed, suspicious and well aware that you had that look that said you fucking-found-something-out. 

“Nope. Nothing.” You sucked your lips in in an act of hiding the rest of the rise of a cheeky smile, “it’s nothing.” you added quickly, shutting the screen of your laptop with deliberate slowness.

Levi had to stare at you for another good minute, just to see if you’d spill. You didn’t, so he gave up and finally walked in, sinking into the space beside you on your bed, snug against your side. 

You really didn’t tell him and you struggled not to giggle while he just now was doing the very thing you were refusing to tell him. Nuzzling his face against the ball of your shoulder, the motion soft, lighting up your heart in the warmest way possible.

At least now you knew that the instances of Levi and physical touch being under the same breathing space exceeded all twenty of your fingers. Now counting the small moments in the past you didn’t include, and the ones that’ll happen in the long future ahead of your relationship. 

'til next time. cheers, my love

“No,” Levi replies. He turns the corner, and the car slightly leans you to the right.

A sigh fills the car as he pauses as a set of traffic lights further down the street.

This red light drags forever, and Levi sighs instead and looks at you pointedly, “What, then?”

It takes reluctance to pull your gaze away from the pigeons near the bins on the side of the road, but you do, and you look at Levi. “I just think it will be really nice to grab dinner together.”

“We do that all the time,” Levi says.

“Yeah, but I don’t mean us, or just us,” you affirm, “I mean, like all of us. Family, I guess.”

Levi bristles. “Family? We don’t have any family.”

“We do,” you moan. “I mean. Not family-family, but family. The kind of family we get to choose. Erwin, and Sasha and whoever.”

Levi nods sarcastically, “Oh. Wrong F word, Y/N, those people are called friends.”

“Oh, whatever then,” you huff, turning back towards the window. “Forget I said anything.”

Levi wants to forget, but he doesn’t.

Something about that line, about the way that it stuck with him: The kind of family we get to choose. He thought about it all night, groaned, and then swore and called Erwin.

Alright motherfucker, we’re going to dinner with Y/N so you better shut the fuck up, get a suit, and meet us at that fancy Gangnam restaurant.

So, it’s a Friday evening, and it feels like a Disney Channel crossover episode.

Sasha definitely feels out of place in this restaurant, and Levi acts uncomfortable about the way Erwin sits opposite you, gauging your every move and word with overacted enthusiasm.

Actually, all Levi is thinking about is the moment that they got here.

“Here, honey, let me get that for you,” had appeared to be Erwin’s favourite sentence to say to you; he used it when he opened the door for you, and again with the chair to the table.

Erwin sat seething, almost red like a ruby. Sasha sips nervously from her glass as Erwin laughs again at something you said.

Dinner went great, he would have to admit that.

“Oh, we booked the patio for desserts,” Erwin says.

One of Levi’s other friends, Mike (who honestly came to observe rather than to fill in for the surprising lack of family at this family dinner) looks left and right to each person on the table and follows the crowd as they leave for the patio once the main courses are done.

Erwin once again reaches for the door and lets you walk outside. As Levi passes Erwin at the door, he glares at Erwin with eyes that could murder.

Erwin doesn’t waver but he does get the hint, even more so as you stroll towards the table. Before Erwin can even move towards the table, Levi curves in front and puts his hand on the back of your chair.

“Here you go, sweetheart, let me sit next to you,” Levi says, dragging it out for you to sit. You watch him with one raised eyebrow but say nothing.

Erwin says nothing for a few minutes but decides to get right back to it as the desserts begin. It pisses off Levi to the point where his hand leaves fingerprints in your thigh, but you can’t find it in you to be mad about it.

(32) Wrapping a blanket around them when they are sitting on the couch and watching a show.

“You gotta stop letting yourself in here, it scares the shit out of me.”

“I own this dump.”

You gape over your shoulder, “Fucker, you own this dump that you call a dump but you gave me this dump, it’s my dump, don’t call it a dump.”

“Say dump one more time,” Levi warns, shrugging off his jacket and ruffling his hair.

It’s wet thanks to the torrential rain outside. His socks squelch across the floor because he left his slippers back at his place, and he’s not here often enough to have his own pair at your apartment.

The apartment is toasty and warm, the heating on high. Except the living room is chilly and dark, dark blue almost.

“What are you watching?”

Levi moves towards your bedroom but can still hear you as he moves.

“Just this show I found,” you reply, watching the screen. “Dead To Me.”

“Never heard of it,” he yawns, and emerges from the room. He’s holding a heavy blanket in his arms, moving to the living room to sit next to you.

He plops next to you and glances at the screen, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, over your head like a cocoon.

You laugh softly, shifting it off your head and leaning up against him. “It’s American. It’s got Velma in it.”

“Linda Cardellini?” Levi asks, settling back. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“I know, that’s why I thought I’d watch it, I love her,” you say.

Levi wraps an arm around your shoulder and smushes closer towards you.

“Good day?” you ask quietly.

He takes a few seconds, like he’s truly trying to think about whether he wants to answer or not.

“Okay,” he admits. “Don’t care, it’s over, I’m here, don’t wanna think about work.”

You don’t push him to talk, and instead, let him sit next to you. He likes the darkness because there’s no way you can see his discomfort, his pain, the blood under his fingernails.

(33) Throwing away their piles of tissues when they have a cold.

Levi travels for work a lot, and it’s no secret to anybody he knows. It was midday when he got a call, just a few words over the phone, and then he was moving out of the shower and into the bedroom to get ready.

He had told you to stay, stay until he got back. Unfinished business, he said, that would need dealing with when he got home. So you did, you stayed and he left, and that was that.

Levi sighs and shuts the car door. Until next time, he thinks to himself as he watches the car pull away.

Frowning, he straightens his blazer and walks up the steps to the complex he lives at and enters.

When he gets to his apartment, he kicks his shoes off right away and as he steps inside, he notices that the apartment is unusually silent.

Normally at his home, his big mansion that he loves up in the hills, there’s some sort of noise. Maybe it’s the sound of the TV on in the kitchen, or the bubbles in the hot tub, or the sound of Elio prowling around the bedroom.

This apartment is in central Seoul, closer to work and closer to school. He hates how silent it is, how empty it feels.

“Y/N?”

There is no instant reply. He moves across the apartment, searching silently.

“Babe, you here?”

Worry bubbles in his stomach and he moves in search of you. After searching everywhere, Levi scoffs like it’s a sick joke that you’re not here, until he hears a noise, a croak and a cough from the spare bedroom.

“Y/N?” calls Levi. He moves to the door and twists the handle, and is a few shuffles inside when a grottal, gross noise emerges from the darkness.

“What?” he asks.

“I said don’t come in here,” you croak out in reply, because it’s you, and who else would it be in his apartment?

Levi enters and reaches for the light, pausing when you grunt in his direction. He can see you in the dim light of the spare bedroom, the sun outside the curtains, and he suppresses a smile.

“What happened? I said we had unfinished business.”

“I know,” you rasp. “But one of the losers in my class came to class with a sore throat, I thought I’d be fine. But, ta-da.”

He can see in the light that there’s a plethora of tissues around your body, like a barrier. So many, snotty and probably damp and scrunched into balls.

“Guess he had a cold.”

He grimaces, shuffling into the bedroom despite you telling him otherwise. It’s unsurprisingly stuffy in the room, a given since the room is closed off from the sunlight that bleeds behind the curtains.

Like you requested, he doesn’t turn on the lights, keeping you safe in the darkness.

“Shitty kids,” Levi grunts. Finding a lack of interest in the germs that breed in the tissues scrunched into balls, he moves them from the covers and tosses them towards the small bin next to the bedside cabinet.

You sniffle, snotty and stuffed, and peer from over the duvet at him.

Levi looks tired, as he always does when he gets back from work. He sports a brand new cut on his lip, one that will probably scar when it’s done showing crimson.

There is blood on his shirt, and you know that it’s probably not his. That doesn’t make you feel better.

“How long you had it?” Levi asks.

“Two or three days,” you estimate. He’s been gone almost a week, the seventh day being tomorrow. “Should go soon, don’t worry.”

He smiles, “Not worried. Did you get medicine, or something?”

You sniff once, the air hot in your nostrils. “Nope. I haven’t managed to leave since I came down with it. I only went to the door to collect soup and then I went back to bed in here. And I went out to see who it was when Mike came by to get your big kitty.”

Another sniff and Levi’s eyebrows raise with amusement, “Didn’t want to infect your bedroom, so I came here instead. Hope that’s okay.”

“Sure, it’s okay,” he replies. “I’ll find something for you, I’ve got a bunch of shit that might help.”

“Really?”

Levi nods, “Yeah. Stay put, buttercup, B-R-B.”

(34) Mending an item of their clothing that was ripped.

“Who even takes the subway anymore?”

In reply, Levi gets an appalled scoff.

“I’m sorry, not all of us are rich enough to have fucking chauffeurs taking us places.”

“What’re you talking about, you’re rich,” Levi says, his voice kind of muffled due to the sewing needle between his teeth.

He sits on the edge of his sofa, your skirt spread over his lap like a napkin at dinner.

Down the leg, the seam is torn, showing what could have been an erotic amount of leg. Unfortunately, he’d only got a glimpse of your skin when you shuffled into his home.

As the CEO of ripping his clothes, Levi became familiar with sewing over the years, figuring it was less expensive to sew than it was to replace.

So, of course, when your skirt got torn on the subway home, Levi tested his skills and dug out the sewing needle.

“No thanks to you,” you sigh. “You didn’t need to, by the way.”

“Need to what, pay you?” Levi laughs, sewing the seam. “Come on, Y/N, it’s overdue.”

“True, but I don’t really need your money that much anymore.”

“Funny, since you needed it when you didn’t have it,” he sighs dramatically. “Anyway, it’s barely a dent out of my bank account, I wanna spoil you. You’re welcome.”

You frown, shuffling to the couch and throwing yourself over the back so that your head is by his legs.

Levi spares you a glance from the skirt and smiles, returning back to the work.

“Thanks,” you mumble. Nothing is said, but he appreciates it.

(35) Running out in the middle of the night to get a food item they’re craving.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“What the fuck?”

Levi shoots up from bed into a sitting position, his eyes blown wide as he stares at you.

Whenever Levi invites you to stay at his apartment, he always keeps a light on in the evening. His apartment is in a somewhat busier area compared to his house, which is stationed in a private neighbourhood only touched by the wealthiest of the wealthy.

His apartment was supposed to be for ease, for if he had to do dirty work in the city and didn’t want to tie his name to a hotel. It wasn’t often that you stayed the night here.

In the light of the dim lamp on your side of the bed, Levi can make out your face. You’re still lying down, staring up at the ceiling.

After he stares long enough, you look over at him.

“Why the fuck would you say that,” he breathes, like it’s an insult.

“Wow, would it really be so bad?” you ask, curious now.

He blinks like an owl. “Obviously, dipshit.”

Sigh. “And here I was thinking it would be like the movies and you’d love me.”

“Even if I loved you, do you think I wanna have kids?” Levi questions rhetorically, because he’s actually already talked to you about this.

Levi never wants to have children. His life is constantly on the line. There is no way he’d bring a child into the world, just for them to either be used as bait, or grow up in a world without their father. He knows how that feels.

“Fair,” you reply. “Still.”

Levi shudders, it’s cold in here. “Wait, are you for real?” He shifts, the covers make a disruptive noise in the night, “what makes you think that you’re…you know…”

“I keep getting weird cravings,” you explain, like it’s the craziest science that he won’t understand.

As soon as you say it, he feels almost instantly better. It’s not like cravings are the most reliable symptom of a pregnancy. Besides, you’re on the pill, and when you’re not, he’s safe.

He’s not an idiot, he’s not about to accidentally ruin both of your lives with a few squirts.

“Like what?”

You shrug, “Really craving the Fairway to Heaven ice cream.”

Levi scoffs. Actually, it’s almost a tch under his breath. “Yeah, of course you’re craving the most expensive ice cream. Predictable. Cute, almost.” He pats your leg over the covers, “Not even the best flavour, by the way.”

“Tell that to the cravings, sir,” you reply. You frown, then, “I’ll pick some up tomorrow. Maybe I’ll dream the cravings away…”

“As if,” Levi barks, knowing you better. If he knows you at all (which he confidently does), you’ll press about this for the rest of the night until you fall asleep bored of trying.

So, Levi enjoys the last few seconds inside a warm bed before climbing out, switching on the light so it burns your eyes as the room fills with it.

“Ouch, too bright!”

“Grow up,” he smirks. “Move, get your coat, we’re going out.”

“Oh yeah, at midnight?” you ask sarcastically, sitting up. “Where’re we going?”

“Ice cream,” he replies, like it’s obvious. To him it is. “That store down the road sells it and it closes at 2, so get your big coat and let’s get moving.”

“Are we seriously going to get ice cream at midnight?” you laugh, doing as he says.

“We both know you’re not gonna shut up about it if we don’t.”

Levi grabs his own coat and zips it up. Nobody’s gonna care that he’s wearing PJ’s, and even if you’re sleepy and grumpy on the way there, it’s better than keeping you at the apartment alone. He’d have to be crazier to leave you here than he is going out for ice cream at midnight.

(36) Helping brush their hair after a shower.

You’re the best he’s had, really.

Levi knows this, because he’s not stupid or blind or oblivious. Compared to the other girls he’s had, and the ones he left not too long ago, he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you. Someone who doesn’t just want him for the sex and the money.

Although scary, it’s reassuring.

Levi comes out from the kitchen to the bedroom where you’re sitting, hunched over a laptop watching a YouTube video for your class that bores you to sleep.

Your hair is damp and matted, left to dry as you watch. Forty minutes into an hour video.

Levi narrows his eyebrows, wondering if he’d ever have the patience to watch something like that. Probably not. He barely has the patience when he works, and he has a job that demands it 99% of the time.

When he can be hasty he is, but when his job is to kill and protect, patience is a must.

As you watch, Levi moves to sit behind you and he sets his chin on your shoulder, boredly looking at the screen.

Your eyes are glossed over, possibly not even watching at all. Regardless, he stays there and slowly rakes his fingers through your hair, straightening out the curls that are close to knots.

He still blames the video for you falling asleep, although it’s probably his fingers. He won’t admit it.

(37) Making sure to be quiet while they’re taking a nap.

It’s not just that. Levi enjoys being gentle, but only when nobody can see him doing it. When you fall asleep, slouched over like a zombie, he smiles and gently closes the screen of your laptop. Whatever garbage your uni have you watching can be watched tomorrow.

Until then, you must sleep.

He moves the laptop away to the cabinet across the room and comes back, collecting you in his arms and moving you into the bed.

Once the covers are draped across your body, he takes extra care to be quiet leaving the room and shutting the door.

There’s some food leftover in the kitchen from dinner that he’ll eat before joining you, and you don’t wake up, not even when the bed dips as he climbs into it.

(38) Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt.

Despite his work often demanding him to be around people, Levi isn’t really a big fan of crowds. If he can get out of going out in public, he will jump at the opportunity.

He just can’t see why you’re so miffed about not being with the crowds of people along the Han river waiting for the fireworks — he’s got a balcony that looks out over the city and the river, so what’s the big deal?

“It’s all about the vibe,” you say with a slight sigh. Your arms are draped over the balcony banister, legs slowly vibrating in the bitter winter air. “As a broody killing machine, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“That stings,” Levi replies, closing the door behind him as he wanders back towards you with a blanket. His eyes glaze over your face as he arrives and Levi rolls his eyes, “Hold your face that way and it’ll stick.”

“Heard it all before from my mom,” you reply boredly. A quiet thanks is spoken as you take the blanket shield and snuggle closer to his chest, staring expectantly at the black sky. “What time will they start?”

Levi presses his cheek to your hair. “Considering three minutes ago it was only ten to midnight, I can safely assure you that it is not time yet.”

“I’m bored.”

“Why are you so hard to please today?” Levi groans. He wriggles around, “And don’t try me with that ‘I think I’m pregnant’ bullshit. Spare me the moody bitch performance for today, please?”

You pug to yourself. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right. And I shouldn’t be so…I don’t know. I’m sorry. Thank you for tonight.”

Levi shakes his head slightly. He may never understand women.

“You really that mad over the bridge?” he asks quietly, his mouth against your head. It’s hot, and you lean back towards his minimal body warmth. “I’m sorry I didn’t pass your vibe check for tonight, but I thought it might be romantic or something for us to be up here.”

You almost laugh. “It is romantic. You’re right.”

Levi brushes it off.

Lately something has shifted, a comfort in the air that grants you permission to be in his life as someone more important than a ‘sugar baby’. Dare he say it, but Levi actually considers you a friend.

Now, you’re at the point where neither of you give much of a shit about the sugar clause you wrote yourselves into quite some time ago.

An unspoken thing hangs there like mistletoe, seen but prayed away.

Distant laughter and a bang grows near the direction of the river and bridge, and Levi feels you perk in his arms.

As a small warmth bursts across his chest, Levi hisses in the cold and stuffs his hands up your shirt, where they curve around your body to cheekily hold both of your boobs.

You jump, because his hands are freezing.

“You’re cold!” you whine. “What are you doing?”

Levi shrugs, “My hands are freezing. I’m keeping them warm.”

You briefly glance down at his knuckles outlined by your jumper. “Oh yeah, because I’m sure that’s the reason why you’re literally groping my tits right now.”

“They feel warmer already,” he continues.

(39) Giving them your dessert when you eat out because it’s their favourite

On the rare occasion that guilt really overwhelmingly consumes Levi Ackerman, he allows his guilt to control his feet.

Usually, they end up on a pathway to the bedroom, or in the car where he drives you somewhere nice, or perhaps he picks you up from school instead of cruelly leaving you to take the subway.

Now that things have shifted slightly in your dynamic, Levi isn’t sure what flies as romantic anymore. He doesn’t want to leave you with the wrong impression.

You’ve had the talk together, the one that touched upon what the future looked like and how quite definitely it looked as though you wouldn’t be with each other, but surely, dinner overlooking the sea in Busan isn’t too fancy or romantic, right?

“Here is your dessert.”

The waiter circles around the table and gently lays a dish in front of you. Levi carefully watches over his glass of wine as the waiter also announces his own dessert, the exact same. His eyes move down to the display set before him.

He’s never really been keen on dessert, but Levi is the type of person who doesn’t enjoy the idea of one person eating when the other isn’t. So he had just ordered the same thing as you had, nice and simple, without giving it much thought.

“I love this,” you sigh happily, fiddling the metal spoon in your hand and peering up at him, “This is sick. Thank you.”

“I didn’t make it,” he replies.

You roll your eyes, spooning out some of the dessert, “you know what I mean.”

Something in the beach-fronted restaurant shifts as the sun sinks deeper into the ocean, and Levi twirls his spoon anxiously whilst observing the dessert.

He’s never been a huge fan of bingsu in general, and he looks with slight distaste at the green blob on top of what looks like cornflakes. He doesn’t get it.

He dips his spoon into the dessert, taking a polite amount and very quickly taking a bite. For around twenty seconds, he thinks it’s okay, but the aftertaste makes his whole body shudder.

Fucking hell, he really hates desserts.

After a few minutes, you finally move your attention away from the scraped clean dessert dish and take a glance over at Levi, who is already watching you with a lack of interest for his own dessert.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, subtly wiping around your mouth just in case. You take in the sight of his unfinished treat, “not hungry?”

Levi shrugs awkwardly, “I don’t really like bingsu.”

“Then why’d you order?” you question quietly.

“I panicked,” he replies, “you ordered it and I don’t like desserts but I didn’t want you to be eating alone.”

You pause, eyebrows quirked: “I don’t mind.”

He sighs. Of course. “Well…” He twirls the dessert dish and pushes it in your direction, “Since it’s your favourite, or whatever, you can have it.”

Your eyes light up, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” you squeal, happily taking it from him. “Thank you!”

Levi rolls his eyes playfully and sits back in his chair. Whatever he didn’t eat from the dessert he instead eats up in the sight of you.

(40) Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh.

You don’t quite know how you ended up at Levi’s work, but here you are. You could probably trace it back to Erwin swinging by to get you from school since Levi felt bad he couldn’t, and to be honest, you had been confused when Erwin drove past the turning to your apartment and kept going further into the city.

Levi’s workplace is pretty big, but still significantly hidden inconspicuously to avoid attention.

As you slowly wander around the hallways, you begin to daydream about where Levi’s office may be, what he might be doing and what he might think if he sees you.

Quietly passing through what appears to be a recreation room, filled with tired faces who blink curiously as you brush by, you finally step out into a web of hallways that connect to small rooms walled in glass.

Each is empty, besides one at the very end that bustles with tense conversation, and you’re drawn to the sound of Levi’s voice as it carries through the silent hallways.

You push forward, stopping not too close to the doorway so that if somebody who isn’t him happens to see you, you can make a hasty escape.

The room is filled with strange faces, strange men in tight suits and briefcases next to their feet. A man stands up beside Levi at the head of the table, his hands animated as he presses on about something you’re not well read on.

Hell if you know a single thing about gun models and firing ranges. You can just about tell apart Fortnite weapons and that’s only because they’ve got colours.

Levi, however, is a sight that captures your gaze. For a while, he sits with his back turned to the man standing, his eyes observing each individual around the table, of who squirm under his watch.

He eventually looks back at the man, his jawline sharp and his hair styled so that it only slightly falls into his eyebrows.

God damn it, he looks sexy as hell; his shirt is black, cuffed, unbuttoned at the top revealing his skinny collarbones. He’s probably wearing the tight trousers too, the ones that make his ass look good.

A thought strikes you: how would he feel if he saw you outside? While it shouldn’t, the thought fills you with adrenaline. The idea of not him but somebody else seeing you, a girl dressed in white jeans and a red shirt, your coat discarded somewhere on an office chair.

Would he be mad? Would he be turned on?

Would you die?

Deciding that the worse case scenario only involved you being yelled at, you decide to dip your toes into the water and tease the sharks; you wonder how long you can hold this silly face for until he finally notices you out there.

It seems like a long shot, and you’re quite close to giving up when finally Levi returns his attention to the table. Heads begin to move in conversation, and Levi’s gaze passes from gentleman to gentleman until they pause abruptly, locking onto you behind the glass.

For a moment, he does nothing besides stare. Perhaps he doesn’t care. Then, his eyes widen, like he’s confused and alarmed and slightly impressed.

Before his disturbed posture is noticed, you laugh to yourself and run away, back in the direction you tiptoed through.

(Later, Levi finds you in Erwin’s office sitting on an uncomfortable and torn armchair, a Rubix cube moving back and forwards in your hands. You’re not matching any colours. It’s going nowhere. He smiles.

“Field trip?” he questions, making your head snap up suddenly. He slides next to you on the free chair, “I’ll skin that prick alive, you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know, but I’m here against my will!” you promise, putting the cube down. “I really wanted to go home. Dead To Me episodes don’t watch themselves, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “I gotta go to a meeting again, then I’ll drive us home, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry I distracted you, by the way. I realise now I’m actually very lucky that it was you who saw me and nobody else.”

Levi laughs, kissing your forehead as he rises to leave. “Yeah, well, I’m the most dangerous guy in there, so consider yourself very lucky.”)