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Cold.
That was the first thing that Levi thought when his palm caught a drop of snow, now slowly melting from the warmth of his outstretched hand.
It’s a late December evening. Erwin and him had just come out of another one of those meetings in Sina where the nobles and other military sponsors rant about how useless the Scout regiment is, while Erwin tirelessly assures and reassures them over and over again that everything they do will pay off eventually, charming his way into earning them another expedition. It’s a success, much as Levi has expected; Erwin wouldn’t have it any other way.
Which brings them here: Levi and Erwin side by side on the threshold of some fancy Sina building; the smaller man, too stunned by what's in front of him to notice his severe lack of winter clothes, waiting, while the blonde puts on his outerwear. They were greeted by a seemingly endless white wasteland - something much akin to the pallor of his own skin, just… less unattractive.
So this is snow, he thinks as he quietly regards his surroundings, feeling winter in a way he has never felt before.
The feeling of coldness has never been foreign to Levi. It was familiar in a place like the underground, where darkness covered every nook and crevice, sunlight barely reaching even the highest of surfaces in the buried city. It was what he felt when he was born, during those particularly cold moments when the only warmth that his mother and him could afford was each other, and even more after he was left all alone. It was a constant, just another one of the things he had to live with and get used to.
And get used to it, he did. But never once did it feel so… free, forever immobilizing, always constricting.
Which is why it is such an experience for him to witness what is probably an inconsequential event to those of the people from the surface; the people passing by around them continuing their lives as always. Content, comfortable. This is frozen water falling from the sky, he thinks. Nothing to be excited about, yet he finds he can’t tear his eyes off of it.
He didn’t know what to think or feel, and he has no fucking idea what kind of face he’s making so instead, he knocks himself out of his trance and directs his attention to his companion. He sees Erwin looking at him strangely, expression indecipherable.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he spats, looking over Erwin’s frozen form, the taller man’s hands clutching his scarf.
“Just thinking.”
“Of course you are.” he says, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes, “The meeting’s finished Erwin. Have pity with your overworked brain and let it rest.” He gives him a few seconds, before coming back to himself and realising how cold it is.
“Come on.”
They start walking; this time, unlike the others, with Levi leading. The sounds of light chatter from the streets and their hushed footsteps on the snow forming an almost soothing cacophony amongst the comforting silence they’ve found themselves in.
“I am, though.” Erwin says after a minute, his beige scarf, still undone.
He looks at the blond and finds bright blue eyes already fixed on him, “What?” It should be uncomfortable - being under that gaze. It’s sharp and keen, piercing in the most lethal way and Levi’s almost sure that he’s being dissected right now but he finds that he doesn’t quite mind it. Not at all. Not when the depths of those cerulean irises is something he would rather explore than extinguish.
“I am,” Erwin repeats, once again donning that expression he can’t quite place - soft and sad, yet with a tiny hint of smile, “letting it rest, I mean.”
“Sure.” He looked away and that was supposed to be the end of it if not for the sudden weight placed on his shoulders. He felt more than seen it coming - Erwin is not exactly what you would call a small man and Levi, being who he is, has instincts honed to perfection. His senses were filled with a mix of a deep citrus scent and something woody. Strong, reliable. Yet underneath it all was something that he has come to associate with books and tea, with late night work and long days. Something so incredibly Erwin. Kind and comfortable.
He opens his mouth, ready to protest and ask what Erwin thinks he’s fucking doing, but before even a syllable escapes the wild yet soundless chattering of his lips, the taller man beats him to it.
“You’ll get cold.”
He breathes and sees fog escape his mouth, the feeling of coldness surfacing now that he’s been reminded of it. Snow is a dangerous thing, he thinks; it enthralls and allures, hypnotizing until it draws out every last breath of a person.
A beat, then he feels a hard engulfing his own. Warm.
“You’ll get cold.” Erwin repeats, gaze directed straight ahead.
“You already said that. What, getting senile in your old age?”
Erwin chuckles, voice as warm as his hands. Levi looks at him, a slight flush in his cheeks - one which he’s not entirely sure is because of the cold - and can’t help but form a smile of his own.
“I’m resting my brain, aren’t I? Don’t be too hard on me.” Erwin says, still smiling and far too amused for someone who just got insulted.
He ignored that and instead burrowed his face onto the welcoming heat of the fabric wrapped around him, tightening his hold on hands far larger than his own and getting an answering squeeze back. He thinks that he doesn’t mind the cold at all. Not this time.
Under the faint glow of the moonlight and over the city he once called home, never has he thought that the cold could be so beautiful.