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jeanbie · 2 days

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WORDLESS #5 ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: sugar daddy & contract killer au | warnings: implied violence, establishing feelings, mentions/references to john wick & the continental | wc: 6.8k

note: who expected me to actually finish this? (answer: no one) i'm so glad that i got to finish "wordless" and put these two losers in a place they deserve to be in! this chapter is the finale and also almost entirely from levi's pov, and this one flows in a chronological order :)

★ ch1. ch2. ch3. ch4. ch5

⏤ Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Levi over the edge if he hears them again. But maybe he's ready now.

(41) Giving them space when they express wanting to have some time alone.

It’s been a hot second since Levi saw you — and it’s killing him more than he’d care to admit.

Since the blow up in the shower over girls he wasn’t fucking in the first place, Levi hasn’t heard from you, and he hasn’t made much of an effort to reach out either.

Why did he even lie? There was no benefit from telling you he was seeing other girls; the only reason he said that so often was to manage the healthy boundaries between you, to remind you not to get too close, to remind himself that being with you is a risk.

Not that pushing you away has made his life any easier. On the contrary, he thinks it’s made everything worse.

It is almost dehumanising to admit it to himself, but he misses you. Since your rather unconventional first meet — which was a far cry from any ‘meet cute’ that normal situationships had — Levi has been telling himself that the circumstances surrounding you being in his life were unique at best, and that you weren’t permanent.

But now, he lives his life around a ghost of your body, making room for you in his home, making time out of his schedule, making arrangements to keep you happy.

Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit too late to acknowledge the feelings he has for you. Levi knows they’re there — he’s not an idiot. But making those feelings real is something he just can’t afford to do. Not yet. Not while there’s too much going on in his life.

Still, he stares longingly at the door every night when he staggers back home, as if hoping you might take him by surprise and crawl back into his arms. Not that you do, at least not for a while; not until Levi grows fed up of waiting and finds you first.

But for now, he’ll grant you he space that you need, the space you deserve. And in the meantime, he’ll try and make peace with the waging war in his head.

(42) Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

“This is nice.”

The neighbourhood Levi now lives in is much smaller than the last one. It pales in comparison to the condo it took forever to finally move out of, but having consistent security breaches just for a tiring view of the river didn’t feel worth it for Levi anymore. It made no difference to him if the apartment he all but owns for you is much farther away — you’re barely ever there, anyway.

Since putting his angst to rest, and since making it known to you that you’re quite literally the only woman he likes enough to keep buying houses for and invite over, things have been calm between you.

There’s still a strange unspoken thing, the remains of an agreement made out of convenience so long ago, to feed both the lust and pride Levi wanted and the safety you craved; but in general, Levi acknowledges that what he has with you right now feels like the closest thing he’s had to a partner in a long, long time.

Levi looks over at you, feeling your hand tighten in his as you cross a cute little park covered in flowery bushes and beds of tulips.

“I’m glad my neighbourhood has your stamp of approval,” he replies, tightening his fingers around yours before pulling up slightly to stuff your joined hands into his pocket. Though it’s spring now, there’s still a bite in the air, a chill that Levi is determined to shelter you from.

“Technically,” you start, and Levi can predict, like a robot, what you’ll say next, and mouths the words as they fall from your lips, “it’s mine, too.” Your eyes turn piercing as you scowl at him, “Hey! Don’t…predictive text me.”

“Then stop being so predictable.”

“I think we spend too much time together,” you mutter, looking back at the flowerbed you’re currently passing by.

Levi scoffs to himself and playfully scratches a nail against the hand lodged in his pocket.

“Then go away,” he says. No chance, is what runs through his head, and the coy smile you flash him is as equally predictable as the word he knows you’ll say next, starting with n and ending in o.

(43) Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them.

Ever since Levi figured out how to share locations, he’s become obsessed with watching you move around on the map on his phone. Numerous times, he’s slipped up on spending hours watching your little circle move, sometimes not even moving at all.

If you had any complaints, he hasn’t heard them, though he very much doubts that you’ll complain in the future now that his stalking has worked out in your favour.

You might have initially thought that bumping into Levi outside the supermarket was a rather delightful coincidence — that was until he moved across the city, and has no real business in your area unless it concerns you.

“Perfect timing,” you say once you see him crossing the small car park in your direction. He has half a mind to pretend he hasn’t seen you and keep walking, but watching you struggle with your shopping is painful enough.

He grunts, reaching for the bag that is squeezing the blood from your fingers. “Don’t get proud about it.”

Sniggering, you happily let Levi grab the overweight bags and fall into an even step beside him.

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Levi huffs. To be fair, the bags aren’t that heavy, but he can’t see any reason for you to have bought so much considering you live at his house more often than you do your own. “You gonna share this shit?”

“If you want,” you reply. “You paid for it.”

His tongue clicks. Levi hasn’t paid you a penny since he last felt guilty about the fact he rarely paid you, despite that being the very foundation of your relationship in the first place, but even with what he paid you and hasn’t since that point, he knows your bank account is more than comfortable. Paying for all of this has barely made a dent, but that’s what the money’s there for.

He makes his way to his car pulled up outside the car park turning in a layby and struggles in his pocket for his keys.

“I live five minutes away,” you remind him, steps slowing.

“No, you just said you’d share it, so we're going to mine.”

With a sigh, you’re left with no other choice but to follow him to his car. “You know, the romance of you carrying my bags is lost now you’ve only walked it to the car.”

Before he pops open the boot of the car, he turns to you and sneers, “You want me to walk back and let you do it yourself?”

There’s no argument to be had. You get into the car.

(44) Standing between them and a busy road.

Habits. Levi hates to keep track of how many he’s developed since you entered his life almost two years ago. Time has gone by so quickly since the day he first met you, in the worst way possible, but since then, he’s transformed into a whole new person, a whole new paranoid man who overthinks everything because there’s no other option.

His habits as of late include worrying about you whenever you’re not around — whenever he’s at work, he’ll think of you. Whenever he’s in a different city or country, Levi will obsessively worry over what you might be doing, who might be on your trail, scenting your every move while you’re vulnerable. Another habit includes feeling like an overbearing parent even when he’s in the same five mile radius, but at least he’s self aware of it.

If you’ve noticed Levi becoming more clingy, less like who he swore he’d never change from, you haven’t mentioned it yet. Perhaps a small mercy to save him the mortifying task of admitting that he has feelings stored away for you.

Today, Levi has fallen victim to his habits of worry and has walked himself all the way to your university just to walk you all the way back home. His home, not yours. In a sense, your home, too. In an unspoken way.

Levi stands waiting for you in the overhang, gaze trained on the thick grey sky until he hears your class file out of the building in a chatter. Sasha is who he sees first, followed by another one of your friends he’s never met but has seen on Instagram once or twice, and then he sees you, looking thankfully in good spirits, and all too beautiful for your own good.

When you see him standing with his hands in his pockets, he allows himself the pleasure of pride when you break away from your friends just to join him, the smile on your face so genuine and radiant that he has to scoff in amusement.

“Hey, you,” you call, falling into his arms.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you confess, pulling away to stare curiously at his withdrawn expression. Levi is already twisting an arm around your waist to walk you down the step and across the lawn. “I told Sasha I’d go to her café and wait for her shift to end. Didn’t you have that thing today?”

“What thing?” he mutters.

“The thing with Erwin. And some deadbeat called George, or something.”

“How many Korean men do you know named George?” Levi deadpans, though his arm does tighten around you in caution. “You shouldn’t even know about that. How do you even know?”

The busy road widens into view as you leave the closed campus. Levi’s pretty much counting the days before you graduate and never have to come here again, and the time is passing strangely slow in that department. It feels like it’s been ages since you enrolled, and he wants nothing more than for you to leave and become the greatest journalist in the world — or whatever it is you even want to do when you’re done.

As you walk, you lean into Levi’s side, furthering the distance between yourself and the road bustling with cars and buses. He frowns.

One of your habits since the accident on the bridge with your family had been to avoid busy roads, as if convinced something might happen again. You’ve told him numerous times that it’s irrational, but Levi doesn’t think so. It’s a very normal thing to feel afraid of everything, even when those things are a little on the unrealistic side.

Naturally, it results in Levi sliding his arm from around your waist and replacing it with his other one, positioning himself between you and the chaotic lines of commuting cars going home.

His heart flips when you smile at him for it, linking your arm around his while moving your waist out of his grip. Levi tries not to let it get to his head how much you trust him, how much he cares for you. But by the minute, he’s losing the will to keep it hidden.

(45) Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb.

Back to habits, there are some that Levi has that he’s not particularly as proud of. But, as expected, you’re as good as it gets, and any habit he thinks he might have gotten away with hiding, somehow you pick up on it.

Levi flicks through a blueprint laying flat over his kitchen table, his hands nervously drumming the edge of the tabletop as he tries to memorise the elaborate labyrinth of a building he’ll be breaking into later to find his next hit. Usually, Levi has you at his home before and just after taking a job, just to eliminate the threat of you being hurt as a punishment.

He wishes that the company gave you unrestricted entry and protection without him being there to clear it, but in order for that privilege, Levi needed to address you as his partner, which just felt like an even larger target on your head. So, he settles for his home, though the worry does not cease.

This building is riddled with passageways and vaults, basement levels with so many access points that studying them feels intense. One wrong recollection could come at the cost of his life, and at the minute, his life has increased in value. Things are finally going right for him, it would be a shame to have it all taken away from him again.

A text from Erwin sounds next to him, and Levi all but glances at the screen to see what’s happening. All assistance available should he need it — he almost sighs with relief at the words.

In the past, Levi had thought he could never work in cohorts with other hitmen, but becoming partners with Erwin and his henchmen has been working in his favour.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn the layout off by heart. So, Levi pours himself over the blueprints and maps, memorising every detail, becoming so engrossed in it that he barely even hears you letting yourself inside of his apartment.

Your shoes hit the wall with a noise that makes him suddenly aware of your arrival, and he glances up to see you peeking into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room for any unfortunate signs of Elio before you approach him.

He notices the street market bag and inhales the smell of spice before looking back at the maps. “Hope you’re gonna share that.”

“Of course,” you reply, offended he even thought you might not. You place the container of tteokbokki on the table before sliding around to his side, eyes glued to the rolls of paper. “Where’s this?”

“Less you know, the better,” he mutters, leaning his head into your mouth as you kiss his jaw.

For a while, you say nothing, letting Levi memorise what he needs to while you assess the prints for yourself. Eventually, you shift your hand over his and squeeze, making him glance at you sideways.

You’re looking at him already, though you can’t see his eyes from the way he’s hunched over. Spotting Levi’s signs of anxiety must be incredibly easy, because somehow you’ve caught on, and begin to rub the back of his hand with your thumb, nose pressed into his bicep.

“Come eat,” you suggest quietly, after a while of basking in the silence with him.

He grunts, a typical Levi sound, and nudges you away. Though, you only shuffle to the drawer to fetch two forks — forks! He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he rounds the table to take one from your fingers.

“Easier to stab with a fork,” you offer as an explanation.

“If my mother was here to see me eating tteokbokki with a fork, she’d lose her goddamn mind.”

“Well…” You start, trailing off after a moment. You’ve got nothing to say; he’s won the argument just by bringing Kuchel up, and both of you know it.

Scowling, you stab another wedge of tteok and chew it furiously, meanwhile Levi smirks to himself, victorious.

(46) Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

“I need to retire. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“No way. How old are you now, like, twenty eight?”

“…I’m thirty.”

“Best looking thirty year old I’ve ever seen. Roll over, I’ll massage your back, if you want?”

If he ever refuses a massage from you, he’s an idiot.

Levi rolls over ungraciously, hitting the mattress on his stomach with a low groan. He rolls his shoulders, the bones cracking comically loud, and as you shuffle up to straddle his back, he groans again.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not heavy.”

Levi sniggers into the pillow, though as soon as your hands start to work their magic, he moans, the pleasure instantaneous.

“Make a house back there, if you want. Just don’t stop.”

(47) Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.

“I can’t do it if you’re not here, Levi. You need to get over here.”

“Do you not see that I’m trying?”

“You’re terrible at this game.”

Levi scoffs. He wouldn’t be so terrible if he actually knew how to play properly. His character begins to run in circles without him even asking him to, and Levi growls angrily.

“Fucks sake, this bitch is pissing me off.” Then, he wrangles the controller from your hands as you protest and says, “You be him instead.”

“But I don’t want to be Cody.”

“Me neither.”

As soon as you start moving little Cody around, Levi peers in scrutiny at the controller in your hand and how it so suddenly has stopped drifting on its own. There’s a circular dent in your inner cheek where your tongue is, and Levi scowls in your direction.

“You were sabotaging me,” he accuses, eyes focused back on May as she stumbles around uncoordinatedly.

“I think you’re just really bad,” you reply. Cody is moving fine, and finally, the mechanism moves and the story can progress. Hm.

Levi’s eyes bore into yours as you shift to face him, elbows snug in the blanket bundled around you both. Levi has been laying low for around two weeks now — he’s surprised with just how much he likes not having to work. Though, there have been a few times whilst playing this infuriating game where Levi has wished to be anywhere else.

“You’re good at a lot of things,” you tell him sincerely, “but just not games. And that’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m good at games,” he replies, offended.

You raise your eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Your animal living game.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“Sure, that too.”

All Levi has ever done on Animal Crossing is make a character and proceed to hit everybody with his fishing net, not to mention dig holes around your front door so you can’t get out. Still, you say nothing — the look of disbelief speaks volumes to Levi and he rolls his eyes, turning back to May as she wanders off to the side of the screen and falls off.

Okay. He’s bad at games. That he’ll admit. But you like it, and by the time he’s gotten the hang of the controls, it’s already four in the morning.

(48) Getting them a coffee just the way they like it.

Remember those habits?

“You remembered!”

If not just to see your smile, Levi likes to bring you one of the expensive bags of coffee from Erwin’s studio. You could quite easily buy the bags yourself, but there’s no thrill in ordering something and having it arrive in due time, not like there is in making Levi steal three at a time as he leaves a meeting or training session.

Levi sets the bags with a loud thud by the coffee machine and hums.

“And you got me a drink!”

Yes. He has also become a barista and familiarised himself with the exact way you like to drink your coffee. The takeout cup he also borrowed from Erwin is placed down by your laptop as you relentlessly type away at an assignment at Levi’s kitchen table, and he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, already sipping at the steamy contents.

“It’s hot,” he points out. “You’ll only cry when you singe all your taste-buds off.”

“I will not—” You slurp, then hiss, “Ow!”

“I warned you.”

(49) Buying them a special treat when you go out shopping.

You know what? No. Levi has given up on pretending like he doesn’t enjoy you being in his grill all day, every day, which is the reasoning for why he ends up in an expensive jewellery store with Erwin one day after a long haul of inspecting an upcoming raid location.

In all honesty, Levi wants to put his work to rest once the raid is all over. It will be their riskiest ploy to date, and quite frankly, Levi’s tired. He’s been killing people for years, cutting at the humanity he has left, and back in the day he would have been very comfortable with being a monster, killing until he was killed.

But now he had you. Now, Levi had someone to care about, so deeply and so passionately that it often left him feeling sick.

“That’s called love, Levi,” is what Erwin had said when Levi chose the rare option of opening up when he tried to explain why he wanted to retire early.

“Love,” he scoffed. But then Erwin had said something profoundly wholesome, leaving Levi with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re not unloveable just because you loved nothing for so long. I know it took you awhile to get back to where you are now, but just because love went wrong once before doesn’t mean it has to again. Besides, almost two years of your bullshit and that woman is still there — I don’t think you need to be worried about her pulling away from you once you tell her how you feel.”

Which roughly translated to: Buy her something nice and quash until you can’t any longer.

Once Levi gets home, he hears you giggling at something and finds you with a book over your face, your legs kicking as you squeal like a goblin. His face twists and he asks, “That book got jokes in it, or something?”

You peer around the spine and look at him. “They kissed. They. Kissed!”

“Who kissed?” Levi makes his way to the couch and takes a seat where you were just lying down. The cushions are warm — you’ve been here a while, and the thought makes him smile.

“Evangeline and Jacks. It’s all so perfect. I didn't like most of the book, but what matters is that they kissed,” you tell him, a little too excited. You plant your feet in Levi’s lap. “I love love, Levi. It is the greatest. I love books. Men written by women!”

“Why are you giggling over other men in my own house?”

“I giggle over you when you’re not around, too.”

He hums once from the back of his throat, watching as you mark the page with your bookmark and close the book before crawling into his lap and curling into his arms. He welcomes you instinctively, the blocky shape of the ring he bought in his pocket.

After smooching your lips for a long fifteen minutes, Levi pulls away and reaches for the box. “Got something for you.”

“Ooh, show me!”

He produces the little box and hands it to you, but when your eyes round and you hesitate in taking it, he worries.

“I’m not proposing,” he says quickly.

“Thank god. I was about to be very upset,” you sigh dramatically, finally taking the ring box. “Most unromantic proposal ever.”

“The fact you think I’d be that lousy with a proposal is actually really offensive.”

The genuine grumble in his voice puts a flutter in your stomach, though soon after, it simmers into a cool pit of shock when you flip open the box and see the most delicate, gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen in your life, not counting ones you ogle in shopfronts.

Cautiously, you lift your head to peer at Levi’s expression. It’s not a proposal — he’s just told you so, and considering you’re not even his girlfriend in official terms yet, it seems unlikely that anything like that will be happening soon. But it has to be more than just an offhanded purchase, and you’re determined to figure out.

Levi’s eyes tremble as he looks between you and the ring. “Is it ugly?”

You immediately shake your head, “Of course not!”

“Put it on, then,” he urges. The steady beat of his heart stutters out of tempo. Suddenly, he feels quite nervous as he watches you take out the ring and study its appearance up close. “Need help?”

“Yeah, it’s so hard, I can’t figure out how to put it on. Needs instructions.”

Levi tuts and gently takes the ring from between your fingers, grabbing your ring finger whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Somehow, he manages to slide the ring on without making a fool of himself, but when he looks back at your face and sees gemstones of your own lining your waterline, he frowns.

“I’m not gonna sit here and give a speech,” he starts. By now, you know him better than that. He’s never opened up about his feelings to you, at least not without feeling regretful of it the morning after, and you nod simply, eyes catching the glint of the diamond. “But you know why I’ve bought it. I don’t need to tell you what you already know.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, despite Levi being tremendously unromantic, having no manners, and in general being a terrible companion, you at least know that he cares. And with his upcoming job creeping up on you both, it doesn’t require an above-average intelligence to work out why this ring came when it did, what it means if things go south, what it means regardless.

“I know,” you tell him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Instead of saying anything, Levi curls you tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes when you snuggle your face into his collar and relax.

His mind has been made, his plans set. As soon as the job is over, he doesn’t want to look back. Only forward, with the woman who has made him feel alive again.

(50) Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

It has been days since Levi told you he’d touched down in New York, working out some stuff in the very famous Continental until he was set to join Erwin on whatever mission they had planned and prepared for. Levi hadn’t told you the details this time because the risks were too high, and now, it feels like a major setback.

New York is on fire, and Levi barely kept his life getting out of the Silver Sword compound. An entire mob wiped out by two guys with no backup — it was practically unprecedented, unseen or unheard of since John Wick was knocking around.

The Continental had done everything right in the aftermath, including keeping Levi in their small infirmary for days whilst tending to his excessive wounds. Fuck, he had been so reckless, so vengeful, so stupid. It had almost cost him his life ensuring that no leads followed him and Erwin back to Seoul, and although he had succeeded in destroying every last bit of incriminating evidence, the risks had been too great.

When Levi finally gets discharged from the infirmary, it is almost eleven in the evening, and New York has finally calmed down and settled in for the night. Erwin greets Levi in the lobby, a frown on his face, holding a destroyed black bundle of phone parts that bear a striking resemblance to Levi’s missing device. He swears.

Levi hasn’t heard from you since he got here. Since the last risky job he took in Gwangju last year, you’ve never been lax while he’s been away; he can almost imagine your fear, your paranoia, and before he can even hear Erwin’s well wishes, Levi’s crossing the lobby for the customer payphone and dialing in your number.

The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Baby?” Levi asks, after three attempts of saying your name and no coherent response. He cranes his head around the curly wire and glares at the clerk, though she looks less than pleased being interrupted by Levi, “Is this a global line?”

“Obviously, sir. It’s a telephone.”

“I fucking know it’s a telephone, but if it’s global, then why the hell isn’t it working?”

The girl gives him grief about his manners and Levi is forced to give up on calling you, slamming down the phone angrily and feeling his body growing hotter and hotter with worry.

He knows you're fine, in his house with the big cat you hate to love, but he knows you. He knows how you operate, how you worry, how you love him too much.

“Look, we’ll catch the first flight we can,” Erwin assures him as soon as Levi has caught his breath and taken a seat on one of the black leather sofas. His hands are shaking violently. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“I know she’s fine,” Levi grumbles.

“Then get a hold of yourself,” sighs Erwin, his frown low and face tired. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I’ve got people waiting on me, as well, you know.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Dogs miss their owners just as much as girlfriends miss their boyfriends,” Erwin protests, because that’s all he has back home these days.

There had been a time where you had offered to set him up with your friend, Sasha, who deserved to be with a man who could handle her energy but also make her feel safe after her last terrible relationship, but Erwin is basically married to his work, and had got a dog despite Sasha being deathly allergic.

Still, Levi’s not heartless enough to know that Erwin isn’t missed by his dog, and probably other people in his life. And he’s right, there’s nothing he can do about the connection problems. All he can do is reign in his worries and wait.

The earliest flight they can find is the next morning, and Levi spends every second up to that point and up until he pulls up outside of his house in a complete state of panic. Would you be there? Did you leave, thinking he’d never come back?

Levi abandons his bag and leaves it in the backseat as he sprints from the car up the stairs, past his front door, and into his house. He kicks off his shoes once he’s in, the door hitting the wall with a booming slam.

He hears what he thinks might be scuffles, potentially even Elio’s claws, and right as Levi calls out your name, he sees you round the corner with a blotchy red face and feels his arms stretching out for you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You slam into his chest, almost taking him to the floor, and encircle your arms around his neck so hard that the breath knocks out of his lungs. Still, he isn’t even annoyed; he squeezes you so tightly, tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before, and shoves his face into your neck, inhaling the smell, feeling the way your body felt in memories while he was away.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper, his features tugged in displeasure as you whimper into him, no doubt crying over his shirt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I thought you were dead!” you blurt, “I even cried on Elio’s back because I thought you had died! What’s the point in having a phone if you never pick it up or charge it?” You snatch yourself from his arms and gently beat against his chest with your fist. “I’m so pissed off at you!”

“I’m sorry that my phone got crushed,” he says, affronted that you would even think he’d ignore your calls on purpose. “I was in a hospital bed for three days! And then the bitchy receptionist got smart with me about their shitty phone, and I called but the line cut out. Sounded like a goddamn robot, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

Your jaw drops, “That was you? I thought you’d died and some enemy gang guy was trying to call me to kill me!” Levi has to laugh at the look of worry on your face. He hasn’t been cared for in this way in a long time. Never been loved to this volume. “I unplugged the landline, I was so scared! Jesus Christ, Levi!” Then, like you never left, you rush back into his arms and let out a shaky cry.

“You did the right thing,” he tells you. Unplugging the landline was the silliest thing he could have ever thought of, but then he realises that you’re still here, and that you made peace with Elio just because you thought he had died.

Levi strokes the back of your head and shushes you, feeling your heartbeat hammering furiously against his chest. His is most likely the same, though he’s not so eager to acknowledge his own feelings.

After a while of standing there, and after Levi’s stroked behind Elio’s ears when he prowls towards them and rubs his head on Levi’s trousers, Levi looks back at you softly and takes everything in.

He has missed you more than anything, grieved the missing piece of his soul that is shaped like you. And, while he’s at it, yes! Fucking hell! He loves you!

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, and Levi kisses you, his hands cradling your face. The kiss is firm, desperate, though he has no intention of walking you backwards towards the bedroom like he normally does after a job.

Instead, he pulls you in for a hug again.

“I missed you,” he mutters. “So fucking much.”

“Me too.”

He says with his mouth pressed into your head, “I’m done with this shit. I’m not taking any more jobs.”

You twist out of his arms, eyebrows raised. “Really? Why? You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Levi confesses. “I have too much to lose. I just wanna live my life. And make it all count for something.”

For a moment, you stand there, looking at his face so intently that he almost feels uncomfortable. But then, as a smile spreads over your face, Levi feels like he can finally breathe again, finally feel like himself.

“Alright. If that’s what you want, babe, then let’s do that.”

And we can do it together.

(51) Getting adjusted.

Levi forgot what it was like to be normal.

He now wakes up at whatever time he wants to, feeling next to him for the lump in the bed where you sleep. Once he knows you’re still there (because despite being retired, he doesn’t think the habit of making sure you’re safe will ever go away), Levi wakes up and starts his day.

Coffee for one becomes coffee for two. Levi never has to eat breakfast on his own, never sits alone on the sofa or sits in silence at the kitchen table. Levi has lost half of his sink counter space to your belongings, lost half of his wardrobe to your own clothes. There are so many shoes by his front door that it looks like a storefront.

Elio has a mother, in a strange, estranged, visitation-hours-only kind of way. Levi has made room for you in his life and you fit perfectly, so perfectly that he barely remembers what it ever felt like to live alone.

The shower is always filled with two people. Levi finds your things all over the house in the most bizarre places. He has candles on every coffee table, pictures in frames, finds your cardigans hanging over every chair. But he loves it. He loves it so much. He can’t imagine ever not having it, having you, having this life.

(52) Finally saying the words.

“This is my first time using this thing.”

“What?” you gasp as Levi comes to sit next to you on the balcony.

Elio yawns inside, sleeping on the couch. It is partly his fault that Levi’s out here in the first place, though the thought of being tucked beside you on the outdoor couch in a blanket, watching the sun sink behind the skyline, is thankfully rather appealing, and he voices no complaints.

Levi takes a swig of his whiskey and abandons the cup on the table, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. It’s not exactly cold tonight, but he knows you too well, and knows that within an hour, you’ll be dithering next to him.

“Imagine having a balcony and never using it.”

“I’m using it now,” Levi huffs, pinching your neck. You squeal, “Fuck off, it didn’t hurt.”

You’ve been officially living in Levi’s home for two months now, although sometimes it feels like you’ve always been here. Still, despite you making yourself very much at home on the inside, neither of you have once come out to sit on the balcony, to bask in the lovely sun as it settles for the night, not until today.

“When’s Erwin coming?”

“Bout an hour or so,” Levi says in a low drawl, his head tilted back and hand massaging the side of your head. It had been your idea to invite a bunch of people over to your house — the house you now shared — and frightfully, Levi hadn’t opposed. It would be nice to share the wealth of simply being alive with people he now had the patience to care about.

You shuffle to look at him, and Levi picks up his head at the sound of you moving. Like always, Levi thinks you look beautiful, but since he’s made you his girlfriend, it has felt like every time he looks at you, he can’t breathe properly.

“I’m excited. This is our first time hosting a party together,” you grin, while Levi thumbs your ear and smiles. “Do you think Elio will eat Erwin’s dog?”

“No. Elio’s moved back onto a pescatarian diet, so I think Erwin’s mutt will be safe.”

“Good. I bought him a bone, do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’s a dog. Yes, I expect, why are you asking me this?” Levi asks, eyebrows scrunched, though he pulls you close to where his mouth is and kisses you straight on the lips. “Stop stressing.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous! It’s all so serious! What if nobody likes our house?”

He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like our house. It’s ours.”

“Hnnngh. And I want you to have a good time!” you whine. “You deserve a bit of fun in your life.”

“My life is always fun now that you’re my girlfriend.”

He’s instantly won himself brownie points by saying that.

“Just tell me if it gets too much,” you mutter, lips on his, mouths together. “Okay?”

Levi hums. “Yeah.” Then, after he’s kissed you three more times and felt his heart shake, he nudges his nose against yours and says, “I love you, y’know that, right?”

You pause, eyes rounding wide as you take in the sight of him. Levi has never said those words before, not explicitly. But now is as good a time as any, right?

Levi has spent far too much of his life withdrawing from his emotions, hiding away from what matters most out of a fear of caring too much. In the past, he had cared too much and lost it all. You were never supposed to be something he cared about, but when it had happened, it happened so fast he hadn’t had the time to make sense of it all.

But now, now that he’s been through it all with you, ticked every box imaginable, become comfortable being vulnerable again, Levi thinks he’s finally ready to accept the love he deserves and dole it out to those who mean the most to him.

Your mouth moves against his, though he can’t understand the words coming out. He laughs, confused, and somehow manages to pull away and ask, “What’re you even saying?”

All for you to blubber out in a laugh, “I’ve been waiting for ages for you to say that!”

His heart bursts, chest soars. “You could have said it first.”

“I’ve said it before,” you protest, “in actions.”

He scoffs, “So have I.”

And he has, you really can’t deny it.

“Say it again, won’t you?” you ask sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and Levi sighs, like asking that of him is simply too much.

“I love you. You make me very happy.” Levi groans when you cackle and squish the breath out of him with a hug, but this time, he sniggers too. Why waste the moment on pretending to be indifferent when he’s actually the happiest he’s ever been?

Levi Ackerman can finally say that he feels good. He feels safe, he feels content, he feels comfortable — and most of all, he feels loved. And in love. And totally at peace in the world with the person who makes him the happiest.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #aot levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #jeanbie

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yorsgirl · 1 day

Text

So Do I

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Third and Final year of college and your eyes are set on the student council president seat. Life is great until you have got the most infuriating, stuck-up, arrogant jerk setting eyes on that same spot.

A battle of intellects? Sure, there's no way both of you can get the same aggregate. Right..?

Tropes: Academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, College AU, 18+

Warnings: Mentions of knife and blood, minor assault, nothing serious, profanity, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Throw in all the cliches of forced proximity, slow burn, mutual pinning, fluff and a generous amount of spice. Ta da! You've made this. Bits and pieces inspired from the anime and manga, Kaguya Sama: Love is war.

𝟏 - 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

"Same marks."

"Excuse me?" You say and at the same time hear Levi's - "What?"

Principal Zackly fixes his glasses, taking once over at the reports in his hand. Sighing he turns back to the both of you. "Just what you heard, kids. Both of you have an overall aggregate of 95.7 percent." He tilts his head to the side, "It's impressive, honestly."

"It isn't," You grumble, folding your hand over your chest. You shoot a glare at Levi from your periphery and he returns it with equal fervour.

"I can't get the same marks as her." The word rolls down his lips with distaste, his face scrunching up.

You scoff, "Oh please, I can't get the same marks as you." You hiss. You turn to Zackly, "It's ridiculous. There has to be some mistake. Can't you double check it, sir?"

"I did, so did your professors. Twice," He affirms, turning the report over to both of you and pushes it forward, "Take a look yourself."

Sheets on the desk and you scan your eyes on the grades till the last row where GRAND AVERAGE - 95.7, is printed. You take a peek over at his report and the same words with digits are printed.

You want to laugh. This must be some funny joke. But it isn't.

This grade will decide who'll ascend the seat to the student council president after the farewell party of your seniors, this coming April. You had your eyes on that spot since the first day of your first year, one of the other reasons you toiled so hard in your all of your classes, never scoring lesser than a ninety(except that one time in first year when you procrastinated an assignment until very late and ended up with a eighty-five) and completing all your projects, whether major or minor, on time.

All this and still you always earned the second place.

The first? It's obvious. The most arrogant jerk of the whole campus - Levi Ackerman.

What hits the nerve more is his nonchalance like all of it doesn't matter except it does cause he was able to beat you always with the least minimum effort as it seems. He is damn talented, you'd give him that but at times its infuriating. Not to mention, he's a stuck up bastard.

Once in your second year mid-term, your professor had made him your lab partner for the day. And this jerk stepped up to you, gave you an once over look while clicking his tongue and said, "Don't get in my way." The sheer audacity had you fuming. So much so, you crossed out your own observatory datas and did them all over again even if that meant you had to stay back an extra hour.

Bottom line: Levi Ackerman is a arrogant bastard.

Toxicity is a good motivation cause you poured out all of your anger in this final exams. You were sure, you'd beat him but you only received a tie. A fucking tie.

You sent a glare his way, gritting your teeth before turning back to Zackly. "You have it wrong, sir. I have a 99 in biochemistry, he only has 96."

"Did you miss the solid 100 beside human anatomy? Must be the reason why you're so damn weak in this." He is quick to shoot back, rolling his eyes. "94… pathetic."

You audibly gasp, slamming your report down on the table. You compose your state before speaking up, "Don't you go about talking about eyesight when you've only got a 15 in physiology practical."

"Why don't you enlighten me on why you've got an A minus in viva?" He hisses, crossing his legs one over the other. "While we are on that, why don't you classify the families in arthropods."

Oh, so that was is now? He is stepping on your lessons to downplay you. Well, well, he can be your guest. "Gladly, I will." You scoff. "Before that why don't you list out the optimum-"

"That's enough," Zackly hits the desk twice, diverting both of your attention to him. "Remember that, this is a College."

You straighten up in your seat, seemingly a bit embarrassed about losing your composure before your principal. You can swear Levi brings out the worst in you. But he is sitting beside you and he seems fine and it just annoys you more. All you want to do is to remove that expression (which is neutral) off his face.

A silence prevails for a minute until Zackly breaks it. "Now we have that settled, let's move on to who'll be the council pres-"

"It's going to be me." You and Levi say in unison. The stress and fire matches in that statement. You glance at him and he glances back at you. The next second, the look changes into a scowl.

Levi turns to Zackly, "This is stupid. I am more eligible to be the president."

"Oh yeah? On what basis?" You sneered back, scrunching your eyebrows. You continue, "As far as I know, the council needs no egoistical jerk like you."

He shoots you a nasty look, raising his eyebrow. He speaks, "You seem to know a lot of council requisites, don't you Miss reckless?"

"The hell-"

"Here, stop it," Zackly announces, his hand meeting his desk louder than the last time. "Maintain the protocol."

You curse under your breath for letting your anger get the better of you. Nope, no more. You aren't letting him affect you anymore. You wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the time you're in the principal's office. No look, no glares, nothing.

Levi seems to think the same as he rolls his eyes and settles his gaze on the principal.

The man sighs then begins, "As I was saying, after talking with our senior professors and the current president-" He pauses, clearing his throat. "We've decided that both of you can co-preside over the student body."

"We can what?" The words leave your mouth before you can get the chance to stop them. "Co-preside? Is that even a thing?"

"Honestly, it is." The corners of his lips turn up into a slight smile. "Some like seven years ago, we had a similar case where two of our students were elected co-presidents."

"And?" Levi questions. "Which one of them died?"

His eyes flicker to the man beside you, tints of amusement evident. "Not so, they'd been the best of friends before being elected, even after that we didn't witness any animosity in them." He takes a pause, "I might say, working together made them bond stronger."

Well yeah, sounds convenient. But not to you. Sharing the top spot with anyone doesn't excite you the slightest even if it was your friend. There is no chance in hell you want to co-preside with anyone. And absolutely not with Levi out of all people.

"Isn't there no other way?" You groan, "Just take another test or something. I swear to beat him this time." You jerk your thumb towards Levi.

"You mean, you swear to lose this time-" He bites back, before adding, "-again."

You're almost tempted to shoot another quip at him but luckily you are able to restrain yourself. Thank God, for your self-control.

Zackly starts again, perching his elbow on top of the table. "We've already discussed that matter with your professors and the answer is - No." He notices that both of you are going to argue again, so he raises his hand to stop any more speech. He heaves out a breath and starts explaining himself. "Your final year is starting from next week, most of our teaching staff wouldn't return until a day before and the ones who have stayed back are already occupied with the exams of your seniors. The situation's tight, conducting another examination for y'all isn't feasible."

No word is uttered after his reasoning. Momentarily, both of your thoughts are inclined in the same direction (that's what you think). On top of that preparing for another exam in just a week's time doesn't sound so great. Even if you put your mind and heart into it, you aren't sure if you can truly beat Levi; who can apparently just wing it without picking up a damn book.

You swear this guy had some super powers.

The older man continues, noticing the thick silence engulfing the room. "This is just what I suggest, but being co-presidents isn't completely a bad idea."

I am not working with this asshole. You're about to say but Zackly's next words stop you.

"However, if anyone of you have a problem then you're free to back out and the other one can be the President." He tilts his head to the side, grinning softly. "The other can go for VP or another role in the council, let's say- secretary?"

Out of question. Be it Vice President or even the treasurer, you aren't settling for anything lower than President, whatsoever happens.

Your eyes flicker to Levi, he does the same immediately. And the look he gives you is a clear indication of what he wants to say - I am not backing out.

How lovely. You aren't backing out either.

"The God's hate me." You announce as soon as you enter your friend's dormitory, slumping back on her bed.

"No, they don't." Nanaba, who was on her phone until you arrived, pivots around to you. Her lip curling up into a little smile.

You would've returned the gesture, but you were too burnt out from this whole ordeal. "They do." You whined, "What did I even do to deserve their wrath?" You flip over on the bed, pulling a pillow and burying your face in it. Grumbling a string of curses to yourself.

She stands up from her chair, walking over and sitting down beside you. Rubbing your back in a soothing way, she asks "Girl, what happened?"

You groan, sitting back up and facing her. You scantily run her through the entire mess you've got yourself stuck in. She nods and hums in between, letting you know she's listening.

"…and now, I have to co-preside with him." Your face scrunches up in disgust. Stark contrast to how you envisioned yourself to be while being handed this position. Now, you were the president- sorry, co-president now, still you couldn't get any joy out of it. (Duh! Like you got a stuck up, egoistical jerk as your partner.)

"Doesn't sound that bad, you know?" Nanaba says, after you are done with your tale.

"Right," You confirm, a bitter taste filling your mouth. "It isn't just bad, its fucking nasty."

"Now, you're just letting your anger speak." Her lips twist up, "C'mon, how bad can it be?"

"The worst." Your lips stretch into a sarcastic grin. "After I end up slitting his throat."

"You’re contemplating murder?"

"I would contemplate torture too but I am too much of a nice person." You shrug, marking the weirded out expression on her face until its replaced by a snort.

"If you need any help while hiding his body, call me." She winks and this time you genuinely smile at her. God, only Nanaba could lift your mood like this.

You shared a room with her in your first year, creating a bond over time. It explains itself, she's outgoing, funny, confident and smart. She was your first friend here and thanks to her you've made other few friends around the campus. Otherwise, you wonder you'd have ended up like a lonely college student, owing to your introvert nature and hesitance in meeting new people.

After being promoted to second year, single rooms were allowed. Though you loved having your own space, you missed being her roommate. Adding to your studies and the increased pressure, your meetings weren't as much as previous so whenever you'd have time, you'll just come over to her room or she'll visit yours. Needless, to say. The bond was still strong.

"Honestly though," Nanaba starts, leaning back on the bedframe. "You shouldn't be slumping like this. Like c'mon you're now the president-"

"Co-president," You correct her.

"Yeah that, co-president. Still isn't it better? He didn't win, this time."

"He didn't," You confirm, pursuing your lips. "But I didn't either, it’s a draw. A fucking draw." You groan. "I would've preferred losing."

"Really?"

"No."

"Thought so," She raises an eyebrow and smiles. "See? It's still better."

You hum, pinching your lips together and look out the window. Maybe it isn't as bad. Still, you'd choose a win over tie any day.

"We should celebrate." She declares, picking up her phone from the table.

You crane your neck towards her quickly, eyebrows shooting up with confusion. "Celebrate? Celebrate what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yep!" She chirps, "We are celebrating you finally becoming our president."

You don't bother correcting her rather roll your eyes. "I can't," You dismiss, waving your hand. "I have to study."

A frown forms on her face, "What are you even going to study? We haven't even started our classes."

That's true. But you can at least read the chapters before starting the semester, You had checked the syllabus online plus your books didn't say much except that the syllabus is huge.

"A stitch in time saves nine." You answer with a shrug.

"Awe c'mon," She whines, placing a hand on her hips. "Don't be a kill joy now."

"I'm not a- you know, I don't like to going out for no reason."

"This isn't for no reason, it's for you. Besides, a little bit of fresh air would help you ease up." She reasons, though you weren't convinced enough. Sounds fun, but you'd choose to stay in rather than going out for some celebration. Nanaba notes the reluctance, conjuring the most puppy eyes she pleas, "Aww, c'mon Ivy. Please. Just one celebration."

That adorableness could've worked, if you weren't so damn tired. You're about to deny her again until you hear a loud crash from downstairs. Both of you instantly stiffen up, but before your former roommate can react, you're out of her room. Rushing down the stairs to the common room.

"What's happening in…" Your question dies down but your eyes widen.

It’s the first years.

An ash-brown haired boy, Jean has his peer, Eren in a headlock. The latter's face is pale due to lack of oxygen while he threw sullen punches over the boy's arm. A second later, Eren is pulling Jean down by his collar when his grip loosens, pushing the guy down on the floor, he throws a punch at his face.

"What the fuck?" You shout, trying to step in between them but you are stopped by a bald boy - Connie.

"Miss. Sea, I- I don't think you should intervene," He utters nervously, glancing back at the fight to you again.

"Why in the fucking world are they wrestling?" Connie is about to answer you but no, it isn't the time for reasons. It's time for action before the fight before you causes a backward reaction and a student ends up being expelled, other in a hospital.

You walk up to them, carefully stepping aside the fumbled, almost broken furniture. "Eren- Jean- stop it. Hey no, you- Eren let him go." You are shrieking their names in a higher tone of voice than usual still they don't seem to even hear you. Narrowly missing colliding with Eren when he is pushed back by Jean. Stepping between them would do no good except that you might end up in a hospital.

Cursing under your breath, you resort to the last method.

Five seconds later, its pin drop silence and there's a chopping knife piercing the wall, just an inch aside Jean's head.

"For the last damn time, stop this."

"Miss Sea, did you really have to throw a knife at us?"

Eren is quick to shut his mouth, miming to lock his lips and throwing away the key once you glare down at him. Aside him sits Jean, glancing at his lap. Both of them have dried blood near their mouth, few cuts here and there in the arms and forehead but luckily nothing serious.

The knife which you threw at them, previously, was in your hand. You ran your thumb over the flat side of the blade.

"Jesus Christ," You groan, pinching the area between your eyebrows. "Do y'all even learn? It's the fourth time– I don't want to heat it." You declare the last part, when you see their mouths opening in protest. Fortunately, they don't speak.

Eren, Jean and Connie were the first years and your juniors. There were a couple of other students too which you were familiar with. You assume the others were out, running some errands or just in their room, not bothering to step out even after hearing the ruckus. You don't blame them, Jean and Eren had been at each other's throats since the first day they arrived. Constantly, picking fights with one another.

You sigh, "See I don't want to write you up to the head warden and get you into trouble before your first day itself." You pause, your eyebrows scrunching up, "But the way, both of you are getting into fights so frequently– someone other than me would. And I am sure, none of you want that?"

Their silence answers in itself but you hear murmurs of - No, from both. You weren't entirely sure if they could keep their word, considering they had said the same before too. Yet, you were ready to give them another chance. It's never too late to change. Besides, they were good kids. A pleased smile forms on your lips and you put the knife down on the table.

"Good, now better clean up this mess–" You point to the common room where the chairs are upside down, the table pushed to the side and the cushions of the couch no where to be seen. "Then go clean yourselves up."

Sighs of relief are heard from the boys before you and the one beside you. "Damn, that was suffocating," Connie mutters to himself, wiping his forehead.

"I though I might die." Jean murmurs, standing up from the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the boy as Eren follows suit.

"You know I wouldn't have aimed that knife at any of your vital points."

"Vital points, right." Eren confirms, rolling his eyes. He heaves out a deep breath, "Has anyone told you that you're scary, Miss Sea?"

Your eyebrow twitches, a smirk curling up in your lips. An answer for itself. "You want numbers?"

"Nevermind." Eren rolls his eyes, strolling back while picking up a chair and placing it where it belonged.

Just then, you hear footsteps and there she is – Nanaba. Walking down the stairs after this ordeal is over.

"You are here now?" You ask exasparately.

"I knew you could take care of whatever it was," She says and tilts her head to the side, motioning to the pair of boys cleaning up the room. "And I was right, you settled it. So what did it take this time around?"

"A knife."

"Glare was more effective though," Connie chimes in. "Miss Sea–"

"I have a name Connie."

"I know your name," He interrupts you. "But I prefer Miss Sea, better than Miss Substitute Educational Assistant."

"You can just call me–"

"Miss Sea, it is." The boys says, leaving no room for discussion.

You give up, there's no point arguing with first years who has their mind set on something. Besides, you don't really hate that nickname. Seas are nice.

"Easy on the nickname," Nanaba speaks, locking her hands behind her back. "You might give her a new one, Miss President sounds nice or just Prez."

"Nanaba."

But the announcement is loud enough for the boys to hear. Putting the dots together, they crane their necks towards you, eyes widening with surprise.

"No way," Jean says, surprise evident on his face. "You're our president?"

You want to correct him but no, that would lead to more questions then you'll have to give answers and nah– you're too tired for that. You just nod your head.

A flurry of 'wows' and 'congratulations' flows out of the boys plus the factor of endearing words which you accept with a smile and a meek - thank you. A heat rushes up your cheek, chest swelling with pride, whatever the case maybe, compliments have you weak.

Breathing out, you tug on Nanaba's shirt. She looks at you and you smile. "You know, I take up your offer. Let's go out."

Yes, maybe you can use a bit of celebration. A breath of fresh air accompanied by your friends before stepping into the dreadful third year.

Yeah, you need it.

And this outing, may just be right for you.

You could have only been so wrong.

A/N: Wrote this in a day, don't know how it turned out except that I am super excited in continuing this. If anyone wants to be tagged, let me know. Thanks for reading! Likes and comments are appreciated.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #capatain levi #levi #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman aot #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #snk levi

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heliiacus · 12 hours

Text

to traverse this with you

tags: armin x reader, forced proximity, pining, banter, falling in love, build up, reader uses she/her pronouns

warnings: none!

words: 1.1k | masterlist

a/n: had to repost this a few times due to tussles with tumblr issues, this one is up for good ! apologies for the inconvenience and thank you to those who helped me solve it <3

They used to love one another, long ago. Not loudly, nor ferociously, or even in a way that the other knew about, but they did. She knows that now. It could have stayed simple. They could have stayed apart. It has been years since she's been deployed to Marley, to live and work under a secret identity; and grieve as she may have for him, she could have lived with it. She really could have. They could have stayed star-crossed, torn away by war, but things just had to get difficult. Now, with tensions rising, she is forced to relocate – to trek through the lone mountains in the desolate Marleyan wilderness, in an attempt to clandestinely reach a port outside Liberio. And in another world it would have, perhaps, been a task of a casual undertaking. It could have been simple. Were it not for him, by her side: the man she has grieved for this entire time. Were it not for this one simple, stupid mistake.

It carries on as their new routine, this strange, gentle impasse between them. Their travels grow marked by harsher and colder nights, rain pattering on the fabric of their tent more often than not. They, too, grow used to one another, in a sense of the word; no longer does the once-alive distance between them fester, and no longer do they startle when woken in the early morning light, this close to one another. Their conversations, once still so tentative, grow open and bare, and they, too, now sit flushly side by side, resting early morning and night. It becomes easier, in a way. In a way, it does not.

Each morning they linger, as if bound by some decree. They are late for their hike each morning, but this they do not seem to mind. When they wake, they talk in hushed voices, things that once seemed meaningless passing between them; and when they rise, it is almost, almost with great difficulty: hands gliding over the skin of the other's palms, as if pulled back towards, backwards; as if unable to let go.

She pretends, at first, that his eyes do not linger on her. He smiles fondly at her, when he thinks she does not see, and each time, each time she tucks it safely away, deep within some hidden crevice in her heart. Slowly, some shift forms between them, both intangible and incorporeal, but so perceptibly real that, some nights, she feels she could reach out and touch it. It feels a far cry now, this space between them; not from the first night they've spent in these mountains, but before: from the fleeting touches and the friendly embraces they've shared back on Paradis, those which now seem to bear no weight to the delicate hold he has on her once the sun hides from them.

She tries not to think of it too much. She does try. Even when she'd watch him stoke the fire as the sun toiled downwards, her hands idle by his side, or when she'd dare not fight the urge to watch him, just for a moment, on the rare early mornings when she would wake first. Even when her heart would beat, loud, so loud, at the sound of her name in his mouth.

Even when she'd feel his hands brush hers, or at a strand of her hair, or at her lower back, always pulling right back, as if scorched – as if overwhelmed by the sharp, roiling electricity between them. She pretends she is not pulled, magnetized by the polarity of his being, pulled taut by strings she does not see. But some days, some days, she, breathless, would catch him watching her indolently, gaze soft with something that covers her skin whole – and those days she can't pretend. Those days, she feels as if she were treading water, deep to her knees, and she feels it still and warm.

And even when they ready for bed, they no longer seem to hesitate. Her hands do not flinch when she lays them flat against his back, and his own squeeze at her frame, once in a while – ever so gently, as if telling her something too tender for words; as if checking, with this permeating earnestness, if she is still there, still in his arms. And when she sleeps, she does so with her cheek to his chest, feeling, truly, just how discordantly his chest rattles at her presence.

"Are you listening?" Armin asks her, looking at her with an amused glint in his eye. He walks so close to her she can feel his warmth on her arm, and she would startle, perhaps – in another time.

"Not really. Sorry. Please repeat?"

"Something on your mind?"

"Nothing much," she tells him earnestly, and she grins on instinct once she sees that sheer, stubborn expression on his face.

"So elusive," he says, and he bumps his shoulder into hers. It travels through her. "Tell me?"

"Well," she gives in, finding herself pliant to him. She watches, with a gentle smile, as a satisfied, grateful light passes through his eyes. "I was thinking of this. That I’m going to miss this, in a way."

"Really?" He asks her, far too quickly, far too brightly, and she stops walking, torn between bursting open with laughter and nearly scolding him. He smiles at her, cheeks dusted pink, bashful and shy now that he knows he has loused up. "Sorry," he says, corners of his lips curled so delicately that it almost steals her breath, and she wonders if he will ask her, the thing lying sly beneath his excitement: which part?

But he doesn't. He stands still with her, cheeks blushed and grin shy, and she's breathless when she tells him: "Really." For a moment, she wonders if she should tell him still, even if he did not question her; she wonders if he is waiting for it, as eagerly as he'd reacted to her at first. But as she stands there, zenith sun so bright in his golden hair, her hands feel heavy, and her tongue twists, and she finds herself unable to say it, so instead she tells him: "I'd walk and walk through these mountains with you, Armin."

And it strikes her when he smiles. Eyelashes fluttering down as he peers over to the ground, cheeks dimpled from the grin that graces him, and her heart flutters, and flutters, her hands aching by the straps of her backpack, idle sharply from the sparks within them.

Then, grin wide and fierce, he tells her: "Let's keep walking, then." He turns and walks, straight in front of her, his step so eager it is as if she'd told him just what he wanted to hear, and she laughs as she watches him. Her step falters, of course; watching him, she knows that this road will not last. Watching him, she knows, she knows, fervently, that soon this journey will come to end. She could pray, of course, that it would not; she could pray that things would not change, or that he would stay those four steps ahead, always within her sight. But she does not.

He turns back to her. He looks at her, eyes bright and burning, hand outreached before her – as if beckoning. There’s no wind or air in her lungs. She just smiles. Then she steps forward, to him.

dividers by arlerts-angel

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