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The fluorescent lights of the dance studio glow a bright white, in stark contrast with the darkness that's fallen outside. Levi gazes through the window, the frost decorating the pane is telling of the Christmas season quickly approaching.
Music swells in the room and Levi brings his eyes back to where Eren dances, now practicing her solo parts in the Pas de Deux without Levi. She had asked him to sit out and critique her performance, but as he watches he finds it hard to pick out anything he deems wrong.
Her pointe shoes make tapping sounds against the wooden flooring as she dances, turn after turn. Her step sequence isn't perfect, but it's beautiful… Merely following the steps can look dead, the performance devoid of any emotion; as if the dancer is a porcelain doll, their glassy eyes fixed into a hollow shell.
Ballet is about discipline and rules - Levi has always found comfort in the rigidity of the art, he feels held steady by dance. Control has always been something he seeks refuge within; Whenever he finds himself riddled with anxieties, filling his mind with nothing but rhythm and step patterns brings him back to himself.
But Eren is different… She's so alive. She isn't merely following the much beaten path of the dancers before her; She's feeling what she's doing, as if the music alone is telling her how to move.
Eren doesn't dance like a ballet dancer, not really. She's free, fluid and passionate. Levi can never understand why she chose an art with so many regulations, when a form such as contemporary or street would fit her style much better.
But Eren loves ballet, dearly. She claims it runs through her veins and Levi cannot deny her the fact. She dances as if it's what she was born to do; She's a snowflake carried upon a breeze, whimsical and light.
The sheer black skirt Eren wears billows about her waist, following the movements of her strong muscles as they're directed by the lilting tune. Her eyes are closed and her face neutral, though Levi can tell by the miniscule way her nose crinkles at the bridge that she's in pain.
Maybe she will never learn when to quit, Levi muses. Listening to her body has always been a weak point of Eren's. She's always going too far, pushing her body past its limits. Levi's heart aches with the knowledge that she would keep going until she bled, if she could get away with it.
Halfway through Eren's first year of ballet school, coming out as trans had lead her along a path of self destructive desperation to match the other girls - All she had ever wanted was to be judged without the haze of prejudice.
One night, Levi had found her practicing at some ungodly hour. He hadn't been able to sleep and had slipped from his dorm and off to the practice rooms. The hallways had been deserted and silent due to the late hour, except for the sounds of falling feet and soft breathing coming from a single studio in the school's left wing.
After insomnia and desperation had brought them together, Eren and Levi quickly became inseparable.
Two years later, sheer determination and passion have brought Eren within the best of her year. Maybe not quite as good as Krista or Mikasa, but she's up there at the top, nevertheless.
Anyone to deny her roles is surely coming from a place of bigotry, everyone who has seen Eren dance would agree.
In Levi's eyes, she's unrivalled, his favourite dancer to watch any day of the week…
After all this, the girl still overworks herself, the need to prove herself and become better now habitual… Levi studies the line of her perfectly extended leg, purple bruises show through the sheer white stockings she wears, and he can bet that her feet match in colour.
Heaviness settles upon the boy's shoulders as he watches her, but if Levi were to tell Eren to stop training so hard, she wouldn't. That's the beauty of her, stubborn to a fault.
The choreography transitions into a section danced by two people, and Eren's body finally relaxes. She shakes out her arms and her fingers reach for the hem of her skirt, twisting into the fabric absentmindedly.
Her eyes crack open, a green so stark as it reflects the harsh lighting of the studio. Levi feels his lips curve into a smile as she looks to him, eyebrows drawn inwards in a question between them: How did I do?
Levi nods gently, to affirm she did well. And her face lights up in a grin, she looks perfect. Her face is framed with flyaway hairs that have escaped her loose bun and she glistens with sweat, she looks like her. Unashamedly.
Eren scurries across the room and as she goes to rewind the music, Levi beckons to her. She pouts for a moment, her phone in hand, before placing it back down and walking over to the boy.
“Help me do warm down stretches?” Levi requests, standing from his seat on the floor to meet her, “I'll get stiff waiting for you to finish up.”
Eren scowls, her arms crossing over her chest, “I know your game, Levi..”
Levi smirks, he's aware that she's learned his ways by now. Upon meeting, Levi realised that telling Eren what to do will never work, she'll only go ahead and do the opposite just to prove you wrong.
Over the years, the boy has learned that it's best to approach her as you would a skittish animal, one that may run as soon as you get close enough to touch - gentle encouragement and subtle suggestions are the best strategies to employ.
She looks at him with narrowed eyes, these days she's fully aware that when Levi asks for her help with warm down stretches, he means to make her wind down and finish a session before she wants to.
Brushing Eren's stray hairs behind her ears, Levi smiles softly. “You're tired… Stop for now, hm?”
She scrunches up her nose in disagreement, her sparse freckles bunching together, “Half an hour more…”
“Twenty minutes,” Levi bargains, he smooths his fingers across her cheek, the skin reddened from exertion, “But first, a break.”
With a roll of her eyes, Eren concedes. Giving in to Levi is another weakness of hers. Maybe because he knows her too well for her to argue with him... They both know in this instance, he's correct. She's an open book, always has been.
She stomps around the studio in an indignant show, grabbing her cardigan from a fixed rail, for comfort as opposed to warmth. Once wrapped up in the soft knit, she takes greedy mouthfuls of water from Levi's discarded bottle and wipes her mouth on the sleeve.
“Lay with me,” Levi suggests. He pulls his hoodie off over his head and bunches it up before laying down on the flooring of the practice room.
He offers the clothing to Eren, who looks as if she won't take it for a few moments, but snatches it anyway. Eyebrows bunched together in a put upon face of distaste, she takes her place next to him, sprawled out in the floor with the rolled up clothing under her head. Her actions don't bother Levi, he knows she's not truly angry, merely pretending in a display of stubbornness only.
The wooden flooring is cooling on Levi's bare skin, and from the way Eren closes her eyes, the boy assumes that she must be relieved by the feeling. With the way she's been working, she must be overheating. Her chest rises and falls as her breath comes in quick bursts, slowing gradually as she calms from the exercise.
From where they lay side by side, Levi studies his friend. This close up, Levi spots a stray eyelash on her cheek, stuck to the perspiration on her acne scarred skin. Old mascara from this morning lingers in her long lashes, smudged into the skin under her eye throughout the day.
She's the most perfect person, to Levi. He wishes she would slow down, take care of herself. If it weren't for Levi, Armin and Mikasa, it's likely that Eren would never stop. The little voice in her head that warns her of over exertion seems to be muted in comparison to everyone else's.
“You're aware this floor is disgusting? Sweat.. Feet. More sweat…” Eren comments, her voice sharp with good-natured snark.
Levi snorts, a quick burst of laughter, “Trying not to think about it.”
To his left, Levi hears Eren cackle. The sound is melodic, merging with the orchestral music that floats about the room and filling Levi's chest with a buzzing kind of brightness.
Levi lifts his legs upwards, his toes pointing towards the ceiling as he rolls his ankles, “Maybe you should let your feet breathe?”
Eren turns to Levi, her eyebrows raised in challenge, “You know as soon as I take these off, they won't be going back on. I'm not stupid.”
“Not stupid, no,” Levi deliberates, his legs still hovering in the air, “It's worth trying though... It's late, Eren.”
The girl seems to mull this over, her eyes trained upon the ceiling. They lay still in the lull between them for a few minutes, before Eren rolls onto her side and readjusts the makeshift pillow beneath her head. Following her lead, Levi lets his legs fall to the floor and turns over onto his side, resting his head upon his arm.
Levi watches as Eren tugs on her hair tie, allowing her long hair to fall free and rest against her shoulders; It smells of her clean sweat and familiarity. She runs the fingers of her left hand through the strands, twisting up the locks in an anxious manner.
Frowning, Levi takes her fiddling hand with his free one, something isn't right. Eren is more stressed than usual, Levi can tell.
Eren doesn't look Levi in the eyes, just trains her eyes on their hands, joined between them. Her eyebrows draw inwards and Levi feels her adjust her hand, almost in a question. He answers by opening up his fingers, creating spaces for each of hers to slip into. The boy watches as her eyes crinkle at the corners in a faint smile, his breath hitches in his chest.
“I need this role, Levi. I want it to be us, together. We can get it, I know we can,” Eren's voice is hushed, the music in the studio becomes muffled background noise. Levi sees, hears only Eren.
He squeezes her hand in his, brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles. Levi had never been the type to speak much, but that worked out fine - Physical comfort has always been Eren's favourite, skin against skin. The warmth of Levi, his steady company.
“You don't have to do it like this though… Don't hurt yourself for one role,” Levi counters, voice as quiet as Eren's, “It'll always be us, the Nutcracker or not.”
“But it's your last year,” Eren explains earnestly, looking to Levi's face at last, “And I'll be here for another year without you…”
Levi sighs, a soft exhalation of air, “You think I won't be back here, with you, at every chance I get? Who else will monitor you and make sure you're not ruining those ankles of yours?”
Eren laughs but the sound is heavier than usual, edged with bitterness, “Multiple companies already want you - You'll be so busy, completely absorbed… You love ballet.”
Levi opens his mouth but no sound leaves his lips, he feels almost like a fish out of water, gasping for air. Trying to find the words he needs, he wishes he were good at this kind of thing. “You… I-”
Why is it that the right things to say are always the hardest to find? Levi troubles himself, thinking of what combination of words would be best to ease Eren's anxieties? What can Levi say to lighten the burden she carries currently, when he's so aware of the degree to which she feels emotions...
Words fail him, as always.
So, Levi tries what's he's best at - Actions, showing what he means. He leans slowly into Eren's space, their noses almost touching when he hesitates and looks up to see Eren's reaction. The boy watches as her eyes flutter shut and her lips plump slightly in anticipation… She’s accepting him, it's okay. Assured he's doing something right, he bridges the gap until lips touch lips.
The kiss is strange, Levi isn't so great at this either, apparently. But it's slow, and it's sweet. Eren is warm and steadying, her fingers tightening against his own and her breath a caress upon his skin. It's new, but it's perfect.
Yes, Levi loves ballet. But he also loves Eren.