MTIJ | Ch.36 Professional Cockblock and Archenemies
|mtij masterlist|
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
word count: 8.2k
summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.
warnings: nsfw content
Weirdly enough, going through college the next few days was easy, almost too easy, which was suspicious at best. Now, don’t get me wrong – I was horrified of change and still was even when it was upon me, but something else I’d gotten called at one point in my life was adaptable. If I had small, comforting anchors to keep me steady in a sea of novelty, I’d manage well. For some reason, Hitch acted as one of those. Even if I hated her, her face was familiar, her perfume was familiar and the spite in our stare-offs was familiar. Might sound sick, but her presence – and regular attendance, wow for her! – inspired me to do well on the occasional assignment, even when it wasn’t a Creative Writing one.
Having someone I knew – all the way from kindergarten, too – even if she hated me, felt comforting. I guess only a Raven might comprehend that train of thought. Another such anchor was Annie, often in a different section of the building, but always ready to meet me between classes, text me when the end of hers neared, and spend her breaks with me, seeing as she wasn’t set on befriending anyone and, honestly, looked down on most of her perpetual companions as dum-dums who thought Psychology was vodoo they could use to “get the upper hand” in their toxic romantic relationships – or a cheat sheet for figuring when someone was lying to them. Which was idiotic, so I sympathised with her.
Now, a weird sort of anchor in this sea of switching cabinets, taking notes, memorising professor names, and ignoring peers who were reciting haikus in the rows behind me, was the guy teaching my Creative Writing – reminiscent of Erwin Smith. Professor Pixis drank a lot, knew a lot, and cared a lot about the minds of his students – in that he wished them to work a lot. Everyone who’d signed up for his class had to be creative and show it through their work – be it sloppy or neat. He regarded words as living beings – the same way Erwin thought certain conundrums beautiful.
And the introductory essays, oh, the introductory essays. I got second-hand embarrassment just thinking about it. Not graded, of course, but he claimed they’d set up the individual bar for each of us, so he wanted us to have jumped above and beyond by the end of the year. It turned out that they weren’t merely a bar for us, though – the bar was there for him, too, as whispers carried news that he’d rejected a few people based on them. In the first week, the rumour claimed them to be four. The second week, they’d grown to be seven. The true number was a mystery.
The bigger mystery was how the old guy had sat down, printed each essay, and delivered feedback with marks in the margins and an additional fucking page of content in his own handwriting. Since I was loath to share my spelling mistakes with you, I’d relate only the big problem because, somehow, “degrading yourself is acceptable in order to achieve the comedic effect you were aiming for, but this was written for my eyes only and such lack of self-respect is not the way to become a real author, if the most meaningful message you send is how creative you can be with self-insults; unless you tone it down, your real ideas will not get through to an audience”.
Safe to say, it put me down that I’d have to stop putting myself down. I respected him for the effort and genuinely wishing on his students to develop in this class. Heeding his advice would be easier said than done for me, but college wasn’t all about Creative Writing. I took a minor in Accounting because my father insisted because credit is credit and credit is credit is credit is numbers is useful is good is the Raven way is— His way of telling me he’d want me to inherit and carry the torch, basically. Grooming, others would call it. Annie did, at least.
Back to the point. Today was a calm Friday which could quickly turn into a shitstorm, considering it was my last day at work, as well as the day of Levi and Ariane’s dreadful date. I avoided thinking about it, met with Annie during my lunch break and asked her for advice on handling the Adam situation. As my best friend, she maintained that I had to give off the right signals and leave the rest to him, if I wanted to try making Levi jealous, that was. If I wanted to be mature, I simply had to tell Adam I wasn’t interested.
If adults adulted properly by being honest, I didn’t want to be an adult. So I claimed in the parking lot two hours later when my best friend got picked up by her boyfriend for their two-month anniversary. Heading for the Audi, my mentality was nearly torn to shreds by the realisation that patting down my whole body repeatedly wouldn’t make my keys manifest. I rushed back to the building and went through every cabinet I’d visited, finding nothing three consecutive times and stumbling upon my archenemy on the fourth.
Professor Pixis wasn’t in the Creative Writing cabinet, but Hitch was sitting in the back row, alone and shedding tears through expensive make-up. Would you look at that – my keys were on the desk two rows away from her. I cursed inwardly, considered returning later, and cringed – and she noticed me with her radar – infallible even when she was distraught. Her breath caught in her throat as she started wiping at the stains on her face and I thought it was too late to turn back, so I might as well retrieve my keys.
“This is your time to gloat, Raven,” Hitch nodded with a shaky voice as I stuffed the lost belonging in my pocket, pausing before turning to her.
“Fuck, Hitch, you seriously think my favourite pastime is laughing at crying people?” She was far from my favourite person, but I still had the capacity for pity. “I don’t like you, but I’m not immature enough to feel happy about… whatever the fuck this is.” I gestured vaguely in the direction of her sneer. The next minute was full of retorts, typical for us, but somehow different.
“Not like you’ve ever cared much for me.”
“I tried. And you hated me. You can tell me what’s wrong, if it’ll help.”
“I don’t want to share with the problem.”
“You’re shedding tears for me? Should I be flattered?”
“Whatever suits you. You’re my only reason to cry anyway.”
“How romantic. What have I done besides existing this time?”
“Not your business.”
“You said I was the problem. So spit it out. Might tell me why you hate me, too.”
“You’ve always had everything, you fucking dimwit.” Wow. Who knew? She had an actual reason to hate me. I fell silent as she glared, eyes still full of tears and mouth deciding in a hoarse voice to enlighten me on a topic I’d never pondered much. “You ever wonder why I picked on Annie when we were little? You were my only friend back then. Of course, I’d want her to back off. But you got your friend and I lost mine. Then you got Eren, too. Your family wasn’t falling apart. Your grades were fine. You didn’t have acne in middle school. You were fucking settled by high school. I kept a grudge and tried to take at least one thing from you – managed with Will, sure, but it didn’t feel as nice when he kept crushing on you. So I thought I’d move on. I signed up for a course for fucking poor people, got a job, and even started liking a boy who had nothing to do with you. Except he does. Because he knows you somehow. Likes you, somehow. Can’t you fucking stop having the things I want?”
She was crying again. Not the Hitch I was used to. I wondered what to do. True to an old prediction, she was my villain, but I was also hers – the perfect girl who supposedly had everything. I thought so, too, up until last year. This wasn’t the time to be telling her that. It was the time to feel bad, not because I’d done that to her – in a way, I’d just existed, but I’d existed without caring enough to see stuff people less taken with their ego would easily see. Hitch didn’t hate me just because. What a difference some maturity in kindergarten would’ve made.
“I had no idea you felt that way.” I didn’t dare touch her even as I stood close. She was shamefully wiping at her desk and face. “I know I’m privileged in the eyes of many people, but… well, I won’t apologise for having Annie and Eren, but I’m sorry that I ditched you instead of making an effort. It won’t fix years of bad blood, but I’ll talk to Adam today. To reject him, I mean. It might not be my place… a boy won’t fix everything for you, but you deserve this one.” Look at me following Levi’s teachings. Mature, eh?
“I don’t see how deserving him is getting him. Moreover when he loves you.” This was something I never thought I’d hear from the expert on boys and how to convert them into timid lapdogs. My gaze softened at her uncertain voice and I smiled at nothing in particular.
“Love’s a bit strong a word to use here. Boys throw themselves at you for a smile, Hitch. If you use your usual confidence, nothing is impossible.” This might’ve sparked something in her. She stood up, sniffled, and looked down at me with some condescension. I expected an insult.
“Don’t expect gratitude for this, Raven. I’ll do whatever I want and this,” her finger drew a wobbly circle in the space between us, “doesn’t make us best buddies.” Snappy, but still the kindest in-character speech I’d heard from her. I was still smiling. If I could do something today, it would be making an effort.
“Just buddies then?”
“We’ll see.” How weird of her to even consider. She flipped her short hair over her shoulder and strutted out of the cabinet with renewed haughtiness. I took off shortly after, chuckling to myself and reviewing everything we’d said. Was this the end of what I’d thought a lifelong feud?
Ah, but the topic of feuds derailed my thoughts – just as I got in the Audi, asshole-me decided to go over my dialogue with Ariane. There was something fishy there. Expensive earrings, weird phrases, Michael Tanner, and the blue house at the end of the road she hadn’t told Levi about. There was also me, in the role of the detective who’d decided to put the puzzle together. If innocent blondie was as manipulative as I thought her, she’d hate me for sniffing around, but, to put it simply, someone had to be my archenemy – I couldn’t just live my life without one.
Getting home from work on this specific day I’d compare to how Jesus felt on his annual rebirth. Entering the house and slipping out of my shoes was a whole new experience, even walking up the stairs was close to the sensation of my first steps. Everything was brighter, prettier, and better. Look at one good deed cleansing my whole bad record. Hello, world, it was me, (Y/N) Raven, rebirthed as a – oh, God, the hottest trend – a good person. It wouldn’t hold – I knew as well as you do, but it was intoxicating to do the right thing every once in a while. Maybe.
Adam was (visibly in pain) disappointed, but I knew better – he didn’t deserve to be strung along. Now, I did feel guilty for doing it in the first place. Also somewhat guilty for being the reason for his disappointment, but going through with it only proved I wasn’t that selfish and mean – right? I’d gotten lost in this rebirth to the extent of forgetting the crucial event taking place this evening, maybe this very moment.
Still, my priorities were arranged differently – and they called for a talk with my best friend, so I could brag about choosing the mature option and being a decent human for a bit. The beeps before she picked up were spent in oblivious bliss as I collapsed on my bed with a dopey smile. Then her voice was greeting me and my insides were warming in excitement over the fact I’d make her proud.
“You won’t believe what happened to me today.” This was the most dreadful phrase for her, since she no longer knew what to expect when something had happened. My routine-bound person could wind up in surprising situations – at least the last few months.
“I always do seem to miss it. Do tell.” She might’ve had a hunch, judging by the fact my voice was cheery instead of forlorn.
“Well, first of all, I think Hitch and I are going to be… fine, now.” Something about Annie I’d never be able to explain to others was the vast difference between her I’m-processing and I’m-done-so-proceed silences. The latter prompted me to elaborate: “As in maybe we’ve been fighting forever and it’s time to grow up. Also, I acted a bit like a match-maker.”
“For the person who’s been trying to take every boy from you your whole life?” My friend was prejudiced – fair, but my enlightenment persisted.
“Yeah, well, it turns out that I was the first to take something from her. Either way, I’m not romantically interested in this guy, so it’s not a big deal and she looked sincere enough telling me she liked him.” Like I wasn’t talking about my archenemy (ex-archenemy) because there was no malice in my voice. Forcing it would be tiring, though.
“Hitch liking someone for real? The world we live in. You sure you haven’t been drugged?” Annie was, as always, a good friend, used to me in terms of character endurance. But this wasn’t development. I’d just been factually corrected, which naturally changed my stance on certain topics.
“Yep. Anyway, I finally told Adam the truth. I think it hurt him, but it’s for the best. Also, this was my last day at work, so college is the only place we may bump into each other.” I looked at the ceiling, reminded of the sad blue eyes. His pain had felt like reproach. That expressiveness had me thinking how different people could be – just by looking.
“Which is good. This whole conversation is a bit too much for me to process, so I’ll react… in a few hours. For now, I didn’t expect any of this. Next thing you’ll tell me is that you plan on confessing to Ackerman.” Annie’s sarcasm flowed into my ear, making me pout.
“Annie! I came to you for praise, to make you proud of my growth, and you stab me in the back—no, the front, by spilling such bullshit,” I spluttered, heat creeping up my neck. To my misfortune, Annie knew I adored to dodge when I was embarrassed, so she kept her eyes on the prize – in this case, on her fantasy of me being in love with my father’s intern, which, worded so, sounded like a porn-without-plot type of book middle-aged women would devour.
“I am proud, (Y/N). But you’re acting out of character with your decent choices, so I thought it was natural to add this one to them.” The innocent statement made me look irrational, but Annie already knew that. And why must we talk about Levi? Levi, who—
“Fuck, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“Levi. He’s out with Ariane. A date at an expensive restaurant. Or I’m saying it’s expensive, because she wanted to go there. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll be paying the check with his savings.” My brio gave way to exasperation as I rolled on the bed and propped myself on my elbows. I tried to imagine them together, but it infuriated when I was almost completely sure the girl wasn’t genuine.
“You’ve been jealous of her for a while. If it’s really a date, you’re being sexist. Erwin and I often split the check, for example.” I could picture Annie’s eyes rolling.
“You don’t get the big picture since you’re too busy assuming I’m only jealous,” I argued, rolling my eyes back at her. I could hear her huff.
“Enlighten me on how it’s anything but that then.”
“Remember Michael Tanner from the business magazines? The one I was roped into going on a date with? His father is Ariane’s boss. Give me a reasonable explanation as to why she’s staying at the son’s house and lying about it.” Not a rant. Rather structured, in fact. Thus, I hoped, Annie would trust I didn’t speak merely from jealousy.
“The only thing I can think of is her paying rent without cash.” A quick image floated before my eyes at the mention – not that I hadn’t considered it. When someone else’s suspicions matched mine, however, it was more vivid.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to double-time Michael and Levi for the benefit of money – one’s securing her lodgings and meals, the other might as well go wild on the presents and fancy dinners.” The speculation was less ridiculous when I remembered the expensive earrings, and boots, and skirts.
“Ah, but she hasn’t conquered Ackerman’s pants,” Annie retorted.
“No, but that’s unimportant if she has his heart. He buys her innocent façade and it pisses me off because I try to tell him he’s being manipulated and suddenly I’m the villain.”
“Of course you’d be, if he’s being manipulated to think her all things good. Still, having his heart is an exaggeration. Maybe just his sympathy. She seems defenseless and lost, like he might’ve been going alone to another country, so he tries to help her. I doubt he’d reciprocate anything physical or romantic,” Annie conjectured. Except it wasn’t a conjecture and I was too wrapped up in my conspiracy theories to notice.
“How can you be sure? You haven’t even seen them together.” If I were less self-centered and observed more, this situation would’ve gone differently. I’m telling how it did happen.
“Let’s say my imagination is vivid. Actually, I’ll paint you a picture. So, imagine them at the restaurant, sitting across from each other. His hand rests on the table and she reaches for it. I imagine him recoiling immediately. Now, another focus. They’re eating and she decides to, I don’t know, play sexy footsies under the table. It seems to me Ackerman would much rather bolt out of his seat like a snake has bitten him and spill something on his clothes than take it.”
I had to give Annie the credit she deserved for the vivid picture. Levi’s hypothetical responses sounded endearing, but it was still Ariane who witnessed them, and still her he was spending time with. My mind added dim lights and small tables, hushed voices and people whispering about the handsome couple. Sexy footsies, fine, but Ariane’s earrings would be swaying in tune with the music as she suggestively tilted her head at Levi. A fucking angel picking up a vampire look-alike. I was a polar opposite, rolling around in bed in my work uniform, stinking of sweat.
“Your imagination is vivid, Ann. And fucking stupid. Levi would never cockblock himself that hard when it comes to this beautiful a girl. There’d be no reason to do it,” I explained matter-of-factly. He’d get mad at me for pretending to know what he felt and how he thought, but it was what it was.
“Right, your denial has always been louder than your brain cells. You realise he’d act that way if he liked someone, right?” Annie’s question came sharp and knowing, almost reproachful. I snorted, glanced at my ring, and quickly averted my gaze, knowing the silver would take my best friend’s side, along with Mr. Smith, and Eren, and my mother, and my uncle, and… wait, was I alone against this army?
“Yeah, but there’s nobody for him to like,” I argued, underwhelmed by the realisation. Annie huffed and I could imagine her shrugging.
“I have to hang up because Erwin and I would like to resume our fancy dinner.”
At that, I laughed.
“I’m sorry for interrupting then. But also, I wouldn’t call take-out at his place fancy.”
“He lied about that. We’re at a fairly expensive restaurant,” she said. My mockery retreated with a small apology and a wish for her to have a nice time, to which she responded accordingly: “You, too. Tell me when Ackerman gets home since he’s two tables away and Erwin and I are betting on when he’ll bail.”
“Very funny, Ann,” I drawled. “Put me at thirty minutes from now.”
“I was thinking five. I’ll inform you about the winner.” Annie knew I’d thought it a joke, so she humoured it. It would hit me in a while that she wasn’t joking. In exactly twenty minutes, actually, ten of which Levi would have spent driving the Jaguar back home.
“Please do.”
Beep, beep, beep.
Annie would hang up now, only to call me tomorrow morning to announce the winner of their very real wager – namely, Erwin Smith and his victorious ten minutes. I didn’t know that yet, but began to suspect it when Levi returned with a red stain on his white button-up and a weary expression.
I decided not to dwell on it too much, so I prepared him tea, told him I’d wash the shirt for him, and didn’t ask how the dinner had gone. I was afraid of hearing Ariane had been gorgeous and flirted, and he’d paid for everything, and the spilt wine had been a coincidence. I was afraid of the dynamic and how it would make me feel. I’d gotten used to people joking that I liked Levi. I hadn’t, however, gotten used to facing the signs that it might be the truth.
So I watched him drink his tea and listened to him talk – how he’d be doing overtime the next day, how my father would actually pay him for that, how he had to get up early, how he had paperwork to do, how tired he was. Out of character, this sharing. For some reason, it made me feel special. Made me feel even more special when I offered him a massage and help with the paperwork and he didn’t refuse – or attempt it. How weird. Maybe I liked spoiling him, too.
The following morning was a Saturday I hadn’t expected to wake early on. I hadn’t expected productivity or leaving the house at all. So, as per Murphy’s law, all three just had to happen. At 07:30, my ringtone rudely interrupted my slumber. I picked up the call, heard Annie’s voice announcing the winner before asking me why I sounded drowsy even though I’d claimed I’d be going to bed early. Keeping the fact Levi and I had had sex some five hours ago, I gave a weak excuse of wanting to catch up on sleep, which she took and nurtured like a newborn. After giving me a brief recap of the dinner and realising I was too tired to lead a decent conversation, Annie gracefully left the chat by hanging up after I’d already dosed off with the phone held by my ear.
In that innocent fantasy of sleeping in, I thought there’d be no further interruptions. How naïve. Fifteen minutes later, a different tune assaulted my unsuspecting ear, literally making me flinch. This time it was my father demanding my full attention and swift compliance. Lying stark naked in Levi’s bed didn’t lessen the awkwardness I felt, but it was quickly brushed off once I heard what he wanted from me – a contract he’d forgotten in his office.
Call me lucky. A deal worth fifty million depended on my highness and the time it would take me to dress, shower, and find the contract, not to mention bring it to him. There was sluggish panic, my father hanging up after giving me the precise location of the documents, and me, nearly falling asleep again amid Levi’s comforting scent and the dull light outside. But fear not! Every once in a while, I could be reliable.
A three-minute shower was followed by a five-minute search of my father’s office, then a three-minute ransacking of my wardrobe. Call me supersonic speed or something. I was pulling up at the office building in record time, rushing inside, jumping the whole line by waving my hand frantically at the receptionist who knew me before getting into the elevator and slumping against the wall by the buttons until the doors opened. At the end of the narrow hallway were the assembled cubicles, where I smiled at Natalie.
Didn’t head there, though. I turned a sharp left to George Tanner’s office, knowing he’d tell me where my father was. Reminding myself that uncle George – as he insisted I call him – hated when I was professional with him, I opened the door without bothering to knock.
“Morning, uncle George,” I piped, noticing the two additional inhabitants of the spacious office. Michael Tanner, busy leafing through a magazine with his own face on the cover, jumped from his spot and came to give me a quick hug, during which, as usual, his hands were a bit lower than the norm. Having known him since I was a child, however, prevented me from reacting.
“Morning to you, too, (Y/N). You looking for Rolland?”
“Is he in his office?” I asked, receiving a negative whisk of the hand.
“In a meeting right now,” George Tanner announced as I let go of Michael and saw Ariane skipping to me with a sweet suggestion – to drop off the documents I was holding. Deciding to stand my ground but be affable, I gave a small smile.
“Thanks, but I’d like to hand them over myself.” I didn’t have anything against her in this case – she was just trying to suck up to her boss and her landlord. What I minded was letting them know my father had forgotten something very very important at home – would be humiliating for him if the news came out.
This is when my familiarity with Ariane prompted a question from uncle George: “Have you met before?” And we nodded, almost like we’d been programmed to do it in unison. To an oblivious bystander, it would be unplanned and weirdly endearing, but such forced habits of allegedly effortless responses, for me, just meant we were both faking it.
“Say, (Y/N),” Michael intervened with glistening green eyes, “how about you and I go out next week? We haven’t seen each other in a while. How’s your boyfriend doing?” Visually, this guy was someone worthy of worship. Fortunately, I was immune to the dashing smile. Not to the mention of my ex, though.
“Oh, we broke up.” It sounded so simple and empty – yes, we’d broken up. But, as Ariane’s eyes narrowed at the hand Michael put to my shoulder, I remembered that I was supposed to be taken. “I’m dating a guy from college,” I added to justify the indifference with which I brushed Michael’s hand away. Then his dad cleared his throat.
“Is your father informed of that?” George Tanner had propped his elbows on his desk and leaning forward in his thin-rimmed glasses, missed just the feline at his side to be the perfect cartoon antagonist.
“Please, uncle George, how many years did it take him to learn about Eren?” I waved my hand dismissively and he reclined in his chair, shoulders drooping. I’d been let off the hook – or that was what I thought.
“And about Will?”
I didn’t know if it was the name, the tone, or the audience, but my windpipe constricted so abruptly that I thought I’d choke. The panic had shown on my face, which meant Ariane had seen it. It took me a second to melt my stiff smile and an additional one to relax my rigid body.
“What about him?” I asked, making the bespectacled man laugh. It was a family trait to be this inattentive to detail and human behaviour – meaning the only person I wished hadn’t seen my reaction was the only person who did.
“If he’s not important, we can go out,” Michael chimed in. It distracted Ariane and George, too.
“If you haven’t learned by now, son, (Y/N) is of higher quality than the whores you grab around bars,” he shot out, leaning back in his chair as I watched how his blond intern’s pretty face struggled to contain the indignation she clearly wanted to voice.
“And I’d rather not make the poor boy jealous of someone as handsome as you.” I waved a hand, observing Michael’s green eyes flicker suggestively.
“This only makes me more eager, (Y/N).”
“Naturally,” I chuckled, stepping back towards the door.
“There’s no need to play hard to get,” he pleaded. Ariane was staring at him. Jealous, was she? Or not?
“Oh, I know. It’s just funnier that way. I’ll be heading out now. See you later.” I smiled at them, recording the faces sending me off with great gusto. Michael’s grin was keen, Ariane barely maintained her good-girl façade, and George was too used to his son’s antics to care.
I paced down the corridor past the cubicles and glimpsed several smartly-dressed people typing away at their computers like zombies. At my father’s office, I expected an empty room with big windows, only to find a raven-haired intern sitting at the glass desk my father usually occupied.
“Look who’s here. Good morning, asshole.” I closed the door behind myself, grateful for the matted glass and the blinds that wouldn’t let Natalie peek. The quirk of Levi’s brow voiced more curiosity directed at the papers I was holding than surprise at my presence. “My father called me to bring the contract. When does he get off the meeting?”
“In half an hour,” came the answer. I put the papers on the desk and approached the corner, where I could look over the city and make myself a coffee – or a tea for Levi.
“Here’s a cup in case you had no time for one at home.” I slid it across the glass desk, cutting his focus in half. Observing his suit, it occurred to me that I hadn’t expected to end up in such a setting. With Levi and his formal clothes, and slicked-back hair, my mind went to last night – hickeys, fingers, gloom, moonlight, sweat, the cologne I was smelling this very moment and the blue specks—
“You’re fawning, princess.” His cold comment snapped me out of my daze. Heat crept up my neck while I leaned against the desk with a shrug and checked the time on my phone, feigning indifference.
“I kept you up last night. It’s the least I can do,” I explained simply, lying because I was fawning on purpose and I would’ve made the tea regardless. I couldn’t, however, say that – assumptions would be made and they wouldn’t work in my favour.
“I wouldn’t stay up if I didn’t want to,” he returned, taking responsibility instead of painting me the guilty one. My heart warmed. Overlooking the city with the intern quietly sipping on his tea next to me, I felt out of place, but exhilarated – there was something surreal about this moment that got me contemplating what would’ve happened if I’d accepted to work here in a parallel universe where I didn’t hold my pride in such high regard.
“This reminds me of our talk in the summer. What was it about again?” I teased mindlessly, knowing he wouldn’t remember or be able to recall the exact instance I alluded to. I wouldn’t blame him.
“Us annoying each other,” he replied flatly. My ring was heating up and I struggled to keep my attention on the landscape. My expression had to have related my emotional constipation.
“You remember.” I had no idea whether I’d meant it as a question, an echo of my thoughts, or a fact. My shock was grand and I knew Levi was observant and far from forgetful, but our recent arguments had me underestimating him, thinking him gullible just because his opinion – albeit wrong – differed from mine.
“Of course. And I’m certain you weren’t thinking about being annoyed at the time, with how red you were and everything.” My head whipped to face his nonchalant look as he sipped on his tea, but I couldn’t get angry at him for picking on me. This was the routine. Since we couldn’t handle to be straightforward, we could at least make beating around the bush fun.
“Then what was I thinking about?” My lips curled upwards unwittingly and in his eyes I saw that he was confident about winning today. Here’s a secret: I liked letting him win. Not because I was generous, but because I was selfish – I adored the conceited glimmer in his eyes when he won.
“You tell me,” he prompted in a deep voice. His fingers pushed the cup of tea aside and I took it as a sign to come closer. Having had sex hours ago didn’t mean I was against a kiss or two now.
“Well, I remember thinking about you in a suit. Went off track there, because one second I’m thinking of being distracted on the job if I took it and the next I’m imagining a graphic office affair.” My fingers tugged on his tie, his hand was on my waist, and just when I thought we’d kiss and it would be like in the movies – sparks going off, romantic music in the background and tension dispersing—
“You’re red again.” A hot whisper against my mouth. Almost as attractive as it was blantantly mocking. I could literally hear his smirk.
“The air is stuffy,” I retorted. The hand on the back of my neck told me we were done with the preliminary necessities and could proceed with what we had in mind – which was exactly what we did.
The kiss was light and warm, tea on his tongue and toothpaste on mine. Reminiscent of the window sill, the stars, and that beautiful look in his eyes I hadn’t been able to part mine from. Then, heels clicking and a knock on the matted glass – so brief it only let us put a decent amount of distance between our bodies before Ariane’s angelic face showed in the door.
“Hey, Levi. Oh, hi, (Y/N).” She didn’t look happy to see me, but that didn’t matter – what did was the red tinting the cheeks of the guy beside me. I was going to make fun of him for that. “Mr. Tanner wanted Mr. Raven to sign these, but since he’s in a meeting, I came to drop them off.” She eyed us head to toe and concluded, judging by our casual manner, that nothing questionable had happened prior to her entry. “Do you want to get a cup of coffee with me while we wait?” There it was – the fluttering lashes and the cute behaviour I’d hardly seen when it had only been us two.
“No, thanks.” I caught his hand protectively curling around the cup he already had while the other lazily brushed its knuckles against his lips. The sight was (infuriatingly) midly distracting, but that didn’t stop me from noticing Ariane’s prying gaze. Her glacier eyes were like daggers poking at me. I knew I had to expect something bad. I just didn’t anticipate how catastrophic it would actually be.
“Actually, (Y/N), I can’t help my curiosity. Who was this Will Mr. Tanner mentioned? You seemed stressed when you heard his name.” Her hands clasped behind her back and her head tilted curiously – I suddenly hated her for asking and myself for having been transparent. It was just a name – one I didn’t want Levi to hear and one I wished had no connection to me. I forced a smile.
“Oh, no he’s just—”
The phone on the desk rang, saving me the embarrassment of concluding my sentence. Levi reached for the device, but I beat him to it. This was my father’s office – I was authorised to pick up the phone for his secretary, since I was certain she was the one calling.
“Hey, Natalie.” The woman on the other end of the line wasn’t surprised that I’d picked up and predicted her call. “What does my father want?”
“Your uncle’s waiting for you at the airport.” Now this was unexpected.
“What?”
“Your uncle. He’s at the airport. He has urgent business in town, but forgot to rent a car, so your father wants you to—”
“Be his chauffer, yes. Well, tell him I don’t love him as dearly anymore and what he needed is with Levi,” I informed. Natalie bid me a professional farewell, to which I sighed. “Bye, Nat.” Hanging up, I exchanged a look with both silent interns before addressing only Levi: “I have to go. Uncle Jared’s stranded without a car in town. Ask my father if he’ll be staying over when you get the chance.”
I ran off quickly after, shutting the door and turning into the hallway leading to the elevator. Pressing the button, I felt a presence behind me. When I faced the intruder, Levi’s cold fingers were handing me the phone I’d forgotten in my haste. His graphite eyes were hard and unrelenting. A question was coming.
“You were nervous. Who is this Will?” Fists stuffed in the pockets of his suit, he looked professional and scary, moreover when he was saying Will’s name. My ears were probably red as my gaze drilled into the floor, revealing to the intern that this was something he didn’t know and something I didn’t want him to learn either.
“He’s an old acquaintance. I—”
“And now you’re even more nervous,” he cut off. My fingers halted amid fidgeting with my ring.
“I’m just in a hurry,” I blurted out, gaze averted and digits proceeding to tug at the ring nervously. Levi didn’t need this body language display as proof of the lie. He stepped closer just as the elevator dinged.
“It’s so personal that you won’t even look me in the eye. Out of what? Embarrassment? Shame?” I winced at the latter, making him snort. “Shame it is then.” I kept quiet, knowing I couldn’t make it better if I told the truth. “Go, I can see that you’re uncomfortable in my presence.” His voice turned cold and I felt him step back. What I attempted was impulsive. Despite the security cameras and the chance that Ariane may pass the hallway, I grabbed the lapel of his suit and held on, desperate to offer excuses.
“There’s a reason I don’t want to tell you and it’s not—”
“I don’t need to know,” he interrupted again, unwilling to hear, but unwilling to free himself. He grasped my wrist when I neared him, tip-toeing in a desperate attempt to mend things with a kiss. Our mouths were close when he clicked his tongue. “… go.” The whisper was stoic, almost harsh. He was pulling back and I dared not disobey, so I turned around and stepped through the open elevator doors.
It didn’t go like the cliché Fifty Shades of Grey scene where they share intense looks because I was looking at Levi’s deadpan and he wasn’t looking back.
The next half an hour was a blur. I got in the car and couldn’t even get excited about seeing my uncle as I drove to the airport. There, we easily found each other. He tossed his case in the backseat and sat in the passenger seat, quick to catch my sour mood.
“You seem sad, cupcake.” My ring agreed. I couldn’t tell him why, but I forced a smile he needn’t even look at to know it was fake.
“Problems in paradise, uncle. No biggie.” Belittling my real problems and embellishing the imaginary ones seemed to be my superpower. But wasn’t that what everyone did anyway?
“Won’t ask then.” There was something in his voice that told me he understood – without knowing, asking or guessing – and supported me in whatever I chose to do. It was what Levi did, but the things I couldn’t run to him for were beginning to pile up – first Ariane and now Will. I drove in silence, wondering if Levi would try to understand and show compassion in his own weird way. Should I tell him? But what if he didn’t understand? What if he thought me terrible for it? I didn’t want to risk it.
My legs were strong. Seemed like an unimportant fact about me, but they were. I’d run a fair amount of times in my life, was in love with my bicycle from early childhood to puberty (before the Audi became my number one partner), jumped rope during P.E. if volleyball wasn’t an option, done quite a bit of squats while Eren was busy with his boxing fever, and spent a generous amount of my free time cleaning a big house. Sure, my legs wouldn’t survive a marathon or a long HIIT session, but those were somewhat cardio based anyway. So cardio might’ve been the weakness. Here’s context on how I discovered a new form of cardio my legs were unfit for.
My parents weren’t home and I had an assignment to do, which I chose to work on in the kitchen when Levi exited his room and promptly ignored me. He’d been like that since the elevator incident and once my patience had thinned, I’d decided to play along after he’d even rejected my dinner peace offering. My pride was involved because I’d tried to make amends, but he’d been too mad to care – so I’d be mad, too. Now we were playing the game of who could pretend to be mute longer.
Except this afternoon was different. Sun and rain commingled outside. Inside, a cup of coffee was served on my right. No words – just a cup and his choice to stay rather than avoid me. My lips pursed as I thought. He was always the one pampering me, which belittled my pride and made me seem childish. I’d never been the one to apologise first and never the one who made the move – I always waited for him, hanging onto the fact that he always came and repaired things. It was nice, yes, but I couldn’t leave all the work to him. The dilemma reached its crucial moment: pride or compromise.
I couldn’t tell exactly when it happened, but I stopped working on the assignment and he seemed to have read my mind as he pulled the laptop and the half-empty cup aside. I felt his hand on my shoulder, then his forehead against my scalp. Then I uttered it.
“I’m sorry.”
The most magical of words. Simple and short, but it made him snort and turn me around. When our eyes met, I saw no hostility – not even reproach. I think I was smiling the moment he chose to kiss me. Things headed south. How many times had we had sex at this point? I lost count, but the number exceeding one or two was evident in how I was now more confident in going straight for what he enjoyed.
Dry-humping was supposed to be for hormonal couples with no bigger prospects, but Levi liked it, maybe for the part that conveyed neediness. He liked when I was being vocal, too. He might’ve also enjoyed my embarrassment initially, but when I took the initiative to palm him like I was no longer flabbergsted that he even had a dick, his hands tended to have a very tight grip on me.
This time our sex wasn’t all polite and movie-like. Passion had told us to get to it in the kitchen, so there was less undressing and more of him kneeling to shove his mouth between my legs, or my hands pushing his shirt up to sneak underneath. Who even ran for condoms this time around? Must’ve been him. Porn often tells horny youths that when a counter is involved, someone has to be bent over it. This stereotype is correct, I had to remark, in my role of being the bent-over one.
Levi was kicking the chair aside and I was grateful for the shirt between my boobs and the marble, for its coldness in direct contact with my skin would’ve made me yelp. Fingers digging into my hips, Levi might not have known, actually, that every thrust was shoving me further forth against the surface. As he might not have known to credit my effort, as I had to hold the position on my toes to keep his access easy. This was the new form cardio that I proved too weak for, if anyone’s wondering.
The conclusion that my legs weren’t as strong as I wished them to be came thirty minutes later while he was cleaning himself up and I was resting the upper half of my body on the counter, twitching and turning only at the click of his tongue. My legs gave out when I tried to step towards him. He was a sadistic asshole, judging by the satisfied flicker in his eyes. Another thing he was was considerate, wiping me down as I leaned my whole weight on him and guiding my hands around his neck when he was done.
“Upstairs?” The one-word question broke the proud barrier between us, but this time I’d been the one to initiate it, so I groaned, chin propped on his shoulder.
“Please, and since you’re at fault for this, you’ll be carrying me there.” Stated like a true princess. It was a joke, which I instantly thought to clear with a chuckle. “I’m kidding, asshole. There’s no—”
But his arms were already flexing, hands bracing my legs on both sides of his waist. My limp feet swung behind his back, but I decided to enjoy the moment as he started for the stairs, commenting in a flat voice that I was like a koala after sex. My cheek resting on his shoulder, I stared at the minimal red traces I’d left on his throat and inched forward to press my lips just below his ear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, to my amusement.
“Because you’re warm. And you get cute goosebumps when I kiss you here.” Another kiss to that spot, as though to prove I was right. I laughed just as he opened the door to his room, too enticed by his cologne to hear his warning on dropping me off. He straight-up tossed me, though. I yelped as my body bounced on the bed and he sat at my side, contemplating whether to rest or clean up downstairs. I reached for his hand before he could decide – and averted my gaze when he looked. “There’s something… well, I rejected Adam. Needed a brick to the head to get to it, but I knew I was leading him on anyway. I tried to give it a chance, but I… kept thinking about you. In conclusion, for the time being, I want nobody else.” I dared to look and the silver with the blue specks struck me immediately. “Fuck, that sounded—”
“Honest, and you rarely let that happen.” His voice was deep and slow, like he was talking to a frightful animal. I felt his thumb run over my knuckles. He wasn’t like me because he could look me in the eye and speak. He was used to either saying things properly or not saying them at all. I admired that about him. “I’ll surprise you by saying I couldn’t get you out of my head back then, too. In fact, I can never get you out of my head.”
I never thought I’d hear something like this from him – the closest he’d come to that I missed you I ached for. This was even bigger – felt so, at least, and I didn’t deserve it, but my chest was swelling and before I could get ahead of myself, a pang tugged on my heart.
He’s leaving you in two months. He won’t come back. Whatever he tells you is useless because you won’t be able to mould anything of value from it – not with the time you have left. And with how proud you are. Asshole-me was especially cruel today, but it was a reality check I might’ve needed because this thing was inconceivable, impossible and… not how things went for me. I couldn’t be this unfairly lucky.
“It is surprising,” I noted with a chuckle, sitting up to level my face with his. “It’s also lame.” The words melted into a smile that didn’t deride. “You sound like you’re in love.” Which hurt to say because I might have genuinely thought it for a second. And it caught him off guard.
In that moment, there was nobody else, just my ring making me painfully aware of how I hoped for my words to be false, his snort and unspoken reprimand, and his eyes softening in something akin to defeat. Their shine was dull compared to usual. Like a smile, but a sad one. How I wanted to ask him what that look meant.
tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts
