Archive of Our Own

Despite the two pairs of boots, only the quiet click of your footsteps sounded against the pavement. The chatter of strangers clamoured the streets of Trost with whispered misgivings towards the Scouts and prayers for their possible disbandment. Perhaps, it may not have been a good idea wearing the uniform with your presence being the catalyst for such gossip. But you always did like the cloak. 

The man in your company, noticeably on the side nearest to the origin of the subtle jabs, looked as stoic as ever. His silent pace kept up to your longer stride which you would have jokingly pointed out, but the ever-growing frown etching on his face made you bite your own tongue.

You both have just finished visiting the families of the unfortunate victims from the recent expedition. You let the captain conduct the entire performance: handing over the tiny fabric of their wings badge into trembling hands, lacing soft-spoken words that seemed foreign on his usually crass tongue, and bowing both your heads in a shameful display.

Maybe that was why you accepted his invitation when you saw the weary eyes. It seemed it was just as hard for him as it was for you whenever you did this. 

Count it as luck, your squad were placed on the left side of the formation, taking the least brunt of the damage. 

The last of the bunch had a rather gut-stabbing reaction that silenced the captain to a withdrawn state. It wasn’t the usual white-hot lashing screams, nor the ear-piercing sobs on weakened knees. 

Petra’s father remained quiet throughout his monologue. It wasn’t until you and Levi were about to escape through the open door did he finally speak.

“Captain,” His words crept out hollow. “Why her? She was supposed to be safe with you.”

You wondered if you should’ve taken the rein from him, but it didn’t take a minute for the stoic man to speak.

“I wasn’t with her then.”

Petra’s father didn’t raise his volume, but it was effective all the same. “Leave... Leave like you left her.”

Levi stepped over the doorway without any argument. You looked back at Petra’s father, noticing the way he scrutinised you under his gaze. Seconds before he fully closed the door, a momentary break of the tough façade flashed as the lock clicked.

“Oi. What are you waiting for?” 

You turned back, staring into his dulled grey eyes as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“Nothing.” You followed him, catching up to his side.

The sun began to sink beneath the wall. You suspected Levi would want to be holed up in a room, bitterly drinking his tea alone. Looking up, you noticed the banners and streamers hanging around the streetlights. Jean had mentioned — in a rather excited rambling manner —  there was a festival being held tonight. Nothing extravagant, just a mere celebration of the new spring season.

“Levi.” You pressed your lips as soon as his name slipped past without your permission. 

He didn’t remove his stare ahead of him, but grunted in acknowledgment.

Well, you couldn’t take it back now. He’d be especially annoyed as much as it was your favourite pastime.

“There’s a festival happening here after dusk. Some of the new recruits are eager to attend it and I’m lucky enough to be their supervisor.” You pursed your lips. “I’m extending the invitation to you.”

“I’m not babysitting.” 

So blunt.

You hummed, “I’m not asking you to just supervise. I’m also asking for your company.”

“You already have plenty of company.” 

“Ah, but I seem to remember Erwin assigning you to look over Eren.”

He stopped in his tracks. You stopped in front of him.

Your attempt to hide your smirk seemed to fail judging by the flicker of ire behind those grey eyes.

“I never even had the choice, did I?” 

“Nope.” You placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. You’ll have me.”

“Oh, joy .” 

You smiled, as genuine as possible. He didn’t brush your hand away from him. 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed the man. The guilt crept to your throat when said man approached you with the limp on his left leg. How could you forget such an important detail? 

You wanted to keep watch on him after the devastation of his squad, making sure he’s distracted enough that for one moment the world was fine and not the literal living hell it was.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted, fiddling with the hem of your coat. The dress sitting in the wardrobe of your barrack would have been perfect for the occasion, but then your bare legs would’ve been victims against the cold assault of the wind. 

Levi flicked his head up at you and let his mouth hang open. “Hah? What are you sorry for?”

You wrapped the scarf around you tighter, letting the warm air fight against the low temperature.

“I forgot… about your leg.” 

You thought about suggesting to carry him around the streets in your arms. As funny as the image would be, Levi would like to preserve some dignity. And you would very much like to avoid angering such an intense little man. 

You ignored the thought of how safe he might feel in your embrace. 

“I’m not backing down now.” He rolled his eyes. “Where’s Eren?”

One admirable thing about the beloved captain was his dedication. When there's an objective to be done, he would go full-out. Anything below one hundred percent did not exist in that man’s dictionary.

So, it didn’t surprise you that Levi would wear his military clothes to the festival. Although donning his scout cloak, the outline of his 3DMG stuck out against the green fabric. He would fight in any condition, limping leg be damned.

When the very same man that had been living in your head rent free turned back to you with glaring eyes, you realised you haven’t answered his question. Damn, this man was already suspicious of you when you actually shut up.

You let out a small laugh and said, “He took off.”

His body straightened, his shoulders rigid as stone. “What?”

“He’s a kid. You can’t chain down those wild beings.” 

Levi didn’t seem satisfied by your answer. Perhaps, mulling over how incompetent you were at babysitting.

“Levi, he’s with Mikasa and Armin. And the others with them are just Jean, Sasha and Connie.” You nodded your head for emphasis. “I trust those kids.”

Your gut trusted them. And your gut was never wrong. Just like the many times it helped you in battles and even in social situations where you weren’t a conversationalist god like Commander Erwin. You always compared him to a sly fox, weaving around the deadly traps laid down by equally silver-tongued hunters.

“You’re already doing shit at your job.” He said. “Don’t tell me it’s ‘your guts’ telling you.”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” 

“I said: Don’t. ” 

Despite the harsh tone of his words, his shoulders relaxed and the frown lessened. A little brag from yourself, but your gut always kept his mind at ease. It’s as reliable as Miche’s wonder nose, forming the Scout’s very own wonder-senses duo.

“Shit.” He muttered, turning around to the direction he came and considering retreat. “What now?”

“ Well ,” You drawled out, “You enjoy the festival.”

He simply stared at you as if his whole reserved ‘badass’ schtick went over your head.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. This ridiculously gloomy man needed to enjoy ridiculously happy things.

You reached out an open hand, “Come on. I saw one of the stalls selling various teas.”

You hid your pleased smile behind a carefully constructed mask when his grey eyes lit in gold speckles. Whether it’s from the festive streetlights bathing his eyes like a ray of light in the storm or his pure joy slipping through at the mention of tea, you didn’t care. He looked beautiful when he’s happy right then.

He eyed your hand warily, as if you had somehow hidden some sort of machine to pull a practical joke on him. 

It was one time, but you had somehow made whoopee cushions the bane of his existence along with Titans and dust bunnies.

You dropped your hand, ignoring the pang in your chest at his reluctance. 

You swivelled on your heel. “Come on already, old man.”

Even if there was no noise to indicate he was following you, you sensed his presence catching up to your side. 

“You’re not much younger.” He spat.

“I am hurt !” You placed your hand on your chest, exaggerating your offense. “I expect an apology.”

“Tch.”

“Such poetry from humanity’s strongest himself!”

You received a light punch on your right arm. You ignored how his knuckles lingered a few seconds longer before it retracted away.

There’s always a silver lining for everything. It didn’t mean it suddenly negated all the ‘worse shit’— as the poetic captain so eloquently put it— but there’s always one. 

For example, working at the Scout Regiment had a good pay. Not as excellent, but enough for you to live by which was surprising given the low funding from the government.

Since Levi, the ever practical one, brought all his military gear, he didn’t bother to bring enough cash to pay for the high-quality tea his eyes have been locked on. When he asked the vendor for the price, the number which came out of her mouth was like a huge slap in the face. From a titan.

“Oh.” He whispered so quietly only you could hear the disappointment. The hand that had been excitedly reaching for his wallet dropped to his side. 

You fleeted your eyes over the other options. You never really understood the difference. They were all just hot leaf juice. 

Saying that out loud had sent him into lecture mode to educate your ‘uncultured’ brain longer than even Hange’s titan rambles. That was the most he ever spoke in one sitting. You swore to never experience The Lecture again.

“What about this one?” You pointed to one of the selections. 

He shook his head as if surmising The Lecture didn’t stick to your mind because you apparently chose the ‘worst’ one.

“It’s fine,” He said blankly, but his eyes screamed as if he was about to miss the taste of heaven itself. 

You pouted as he turned away very reluctantly, judging by his lingering gaze on the tea. 

There was an urge coming from your gut.

You shut your eyes tight and repeated in your head a mantra. ‘ Silver lining, silver lining, silver lining—’

Before the more sensible, rational side of your brain could stop you, a pile of cash slammed against the vendor’s table. She jumped at the noise but you shoved the money towards her. 

The scrape of your hard-earned money sliding against the table would be the new participant in your future nightmares.

“The. Expensive. Tea.” You huffed. 

She forced back the seller’s smile and packaged the expensive as hell tea in the paper bag. 

“Thanks.” You snatched the bag to distract your hand from the money it just released.

You turned back to Levi who had been watching your display. You dismissively waved at him to avoid any questions and grabbed his hand as you both walked away, placing some distance between you and the tea stall.

You’re careful with your pace to refrain further straining his injured leg.

“What—” 

You gave him the bag, cutting his speech to naught. He instinctively hugged it into the safety of his chest with his free arm. You would’ve dubbed it as adorable if you weren’t busy internally crying. 

But then again, this checked off your dream of being a sugar daddy in your bucket list. Ha! Silver lining.

“What the fuck was that?” He finally snapped from whatever tea wonderland dream he was on. “That was your entire wallet!”

“Don’t remind me.” Your empty wallet wailed pitifully from your pocket.

He tugged your held hands, forcing you to look at him. “What were you thinking?”

“Of you.” You said bluntly, ignoring the heat rising in your face. As much as the captain liked to believe he didn’t want anyone spending on him, even he couldn’t resist the power of gifts and sugar daddies.

“You…” Levi hugged the paper bag tighter. “You didn’t have to spend that much for me.”

You admired his face — honestly, when have you never — and for a moment, the pit of regret in your head melted away at the slight upward curl of his lips. 

Wait. It’s an actual smile. Holy—

You stopped yourself from convulsing and kept a professional face that had been ingrained in you through all your military years. 

He finally tore his eyes from the bag to look at you. The warmth in them never left.

“Thank you.” The smile stayed. Holy— was this how every sugar daddy felt like?

You just stared at him, suddenly forgetting how to function. 

Holy Maria, Rose and Sina, you were probably sweating bullets in his hand. You’re surprised he had yet to pull away.

“Is your gut regretting it now?” And just like that, his bored neutral face switched back on. As if you were just hallucinating the entire smile. 

But you knew. Oh , you witnessed a miracle.

“Actually,” You snapped back to basic human function. “It had the certified gut seal of approval.”

He hummed and looked around the festival. You caught him taking a glimpse at each stall, frowning at every product on display. 

“Levi, you don’t have to owe me anything.”

He looked at you. “I hate being in debt.”

You suppressed the snort. You were the one who’s going to be in debt soon.

“It’s fine. You already paid me back.”

It’s quite a rare occurrence, but whenever he broke a face due to the sheer magnitude of his confusion it was always golden. 

You lifted your held hands in front of him. “I don’t think anyone else survived doing this for longer than five minutes.”

He blinked at it. 

“Tch, that’s not enough.”

Your heart sang when he didn’t loosen his grip. 

You swept your free arm to the rest of the festival. “Then lead the way, oh Captain, my Captain.”

He really led the way. You and Levi stopped at every stall, asking if any product piqued your interest. 

While there were ones that caught your eye, you always shook your head. Honestly, you were curious as to how long the hand holding session could go on for. You were setting up a world record here.

Finally, you conceded after he offered to buy you food. While one of the reasons was that you were simply hungry after missing dinner, the other one was he became more fiddly. So anxious at the prospect of not finding the perfect gift for you. 

You were about to pull off the ‘actually, spending time with you was perfect enough’ card but the captain couldn’t handle that much cheese and honey.

Besides, the sugar-coated buns were godly. 

Of course, you had to use both hands to eat it, thus ending the hand holding. But no one would be able to surpass your twenty-two minute hand holding record with Levi. The fact you passed two digits was mind-blowing in of itself.

As the night crept on, the temperature dropped lower and lower. You shivered visibly, stopping you from devouring the sweet buns. Levi eyed you as if you were in a middle of some exorcism.

You waved him off. It was just one jitter. 

Even if it reminded you of the storm. The cold harsh storm during your first expedition. 

Their names intruded your mind before you could shut it back out.

Ella. Thomas. Avery.

You closed your eyes and tried to remember how to breathe, focusing your mind away from the ugly guilt rupturing in your stomach. 

The breeze enveloped your bare skin and — whether your suffering was a jest to the universe — seemed to become more frigid. Your arms shook slightly and your teeth clattered against each other. It suddenly seemed easier to vomit up the chewed sweet buns onto the brick road. 

You heard the click of the tongue then something fell on your shoulders. The green fabric covered over your arms and your entire torso. 

You forgot about the chilly wind at the close proximity of him: the focused expression on his face as he buttoned the cloak in place, the warmth he exuded simply from his intense presence and the scent of lemon and strawberries infiltrating the logical side of your mind.

He took a step back, his military jacket and 3DMG exposed for the public to see.

You stared at him. 

Wow. You actually short circuited. 

It’s a wonder you haven’t dropped your buns.

“You’ve been shutting up a lot more recently.” He merely stated as if he didn’t just do whatever gesture he just did.

“Wha.. wha…” You coughed, attempting to bring back some form of rational thought. Annoying him always worked. “Aw, do you miss the sound of my voice?”

“No.” He pulled the hood up over your head, breaking free a hollowed laughter from you.

“Sure, sure.” 

“How do you feel now?” The smallness in his voice silenced your forced words.

You looked away and all the prepared lies evaporated, leaving something bitter and heavy on your tongue.

“Like shit.” You didn’t even attempt to smile. “So, the same as always.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line. Both of you knew no words would truly take away the pain. They only served as a bandaid which would eventually fall. 

“Let’s find somewhere warmer. It’s getting cold as shit.” He wrapped his arm around your back which you jokingly wondered if it’s because there was no way he was touching your sugar-coated fingers. 

You tried not to think about the close proximity again, thankful for the 3DMG serving as a barrier between you. 

Still, it was pretty difficult to ignore his arm behind you. 

“Uhh, if your shit is cold, you should probably get that checked out.” You began to annoy him once more.

He rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, that was a good shit joke.” 

“No, not at all.”

“Ah, how could I forget? You’re the connoisseur of the field.” You bowed your head. “My apologies, your royal shit highness.”

You wondered if Levi was also talented in finding things. 

You and Levi ended up in a plaza where walls held hundreds upon hundreds of short candles in jars lined in neatly fashioned rows. Some had gaps, waiting for a candle to occupy the space. Levi spotted the new recruits placing candles in one of the emptier walls, veering you both towards them.

“There you are, you brats.” He spat.

Eren immediately greeted the captain in a perfect salute as if he had practiced it many times over. Mikasa and Armin both copied the boy, though with less vigour. Meanwhile, behind them, Jean pointed at the captain to notify Sasha and Connie who had been busy doing… You didn’t really know, but it was some form of torture to that poor meat.

You noticed their stare on the captain’s arm around you. You mentally nodded with them, you’re just as surprised.

“What’s all this?” Patting away the sugar from your fingers, making sure not to get any on the captain’s cloak, you looked around.

“Jean said it was a sort of memorial for those who have fallen during recent battles.” Armin explained, as he wrote down on the jar using one of the pens dangling from a string. He inserted the candle in one of the gaps. 

Having his name mentioned, Jean marched closer before greeting them with his own salute. You read the writing on the candle he was holding in his right hand.

Marco Bodt

“It’s not just for soldiers either. Many…” Jean sharply inhaled. “Many are here for their families.”

“I see. Where do you get the candles?”

“Ah, over there.” He pointed to a group of vendors in the middle of the plaza. “It’s free but you can’t take more than three candles. They’re running out too quickly.”

You and Levi walked your way to the vendors. They greeted you solemnly. After all, approaching them meant someone on Earth was gone. 

You grabbed three candles, and watched as Levi picked one by one, slowly as if he was counting it.

Oh. He was one candle less.

He looked back at the vendor, turmoil broiling behind his eyes of whether he should consider asking for an extra one. Levi sighed so briefly you almost missed it and turned around on his heels. 

Catching up to him, he found an empty row and began writing their names on each jar. Each stroke of ink laid heavy, staining the paper label.

Gunther Schultz

He placed the green candle in the first gap.

Eld Jinn

The blue candle stood right next to the green one. 

Oluo Bozado

The purple candle lit brightly, its fire flickering unique of its own rhythm.

You stared at the empty last spot on the row. His eyes never left it, as if the longer he stared, a candle would somehow materialise for him.

You let out a soft exhale. “There’s no shame in asking. Here.”

You grabbed one of your candles; an orange one, radiant like her hair. Pulling his hand from his side, you gently placed it on his palm. You kept your hand steady as you held his wrist, fearing that his small trembling would cause the candle to accidentally fall off.

“No,” He finally said. “It’s yours, I can’t—”

“Armin said ‘recent’ battles.” You smiled as genuine as you really felt. “ I swear to you. It’s alright.” 

Ella. Thomas. Avery.

They weren’t so different from how Levi saw his own squad.

Except, they were a wound already sealed a long time ago. Even if the skin over it had grown disfigured, even if the ache never dulled, it was no longer as seething as the first tear. 

You covered the back of his hand with your own and gently guided his fingers to close around the candle. The warm rough skin brushed against your cold hand. He finally succumbed to it.

“Unless you’re gonna go against my gut.” You joked and peered at him. 

He clicked his tongue and stared down at the orange candle. The frown he wore struggled to maintain, so he pressed his lips into a thin line instead.

You didn’t comment anything when a tear slipped across his cheek, landing soundlessly against the pavement. 

Wordlessly, he took the pen from the wall. Its heavy weight suddenly vanished as it lightly scratched against the paper.

Petra Ral

It stood along with the other three, complete and together, as their flames danced alive and well.

You proceeded to write on your two remaining candles, jotting down the names of scouts who you knew had no family to go back to.

You and Levi stood there for a moment, basking in the warm embrace of the hundred candles dancing to the endless song of the night.

You didn’t protest when his hand slowly approached your empty one, nor when he laced his fingers with yours, and especially not when he rubbed his thumb in small circles over the scars you’ve accumulated years in battles.

Throughout the rest of the night, you and Levi decided to stick with the new recruits. You laughed as he tried to apprehend the meat from Sasha, resulting in a loud squabble among the group. Somehow defeating Sasha’s ravenous hunger, he divided the meat into portions, giving Sasha the fractionally larger one.

Before nearing the curfew, you escorted them to the barracks as Levi dropped off his 3DMG in the warehouse. You caught up to him waiting in the courtyard.

“These kids are going to be another migraine.” He groaned as you led him to his office. It was the closest one between the two of you.

You clicked your own tongue. “You’re already in love with them.”

He glared at you. “Fuck off.”

As you stopped by his door, your arms immediately darted for the cloak still on you. Unbuttoning it, you folded it neatly, patting away any invisible dust that he could somehow sense. 

“Here you go.” You handed it over to him. “Thanks for keeping me warm.”

He just stared at the fabric. You wondered if he somehow found more dust, but he took it albeit reluctantly. Your hands brushed against his during the exchange. Perhaps it was your imagination, but for a second his skin tailed after your touch as you pulled your hands back.

Feelings have certainly been muddled tonight. Should you…?

“Have a good evening, Levi. Don’t stay up too late.” 

It would be platonic. Those variations still existed...right?

Plucking enough courage, you grabbed his hand, feeling the calluses once again, and pulled it up to your face. You didn’t even need your gut to tell you as you gently pressed your lips against his knuckles. 

Yeah. Totally platonic.

You gently lowered his hand, and the burning in your face intensified when you looked at him. There was the same gleam in his eyes, golden in gunmetal grey like before.

He coughed, trying to muster some sort of intelligible sentence. 

You realised you really threw him in the deep end of the pool when it came to affection. 

He pulled out the paper bag he had been holding throughout the entire festival and gestured to his office. “I have enough for two.”

You squeezed his hand and let out a jubilant laugh.

His annoyed expression switched back on, and you noticed his shoulders relaxing as the atmosphere returned to what he was used to. 

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing.” Your smile stayed, “But yes, I’d love to drink hot leaf juice with you.”

“It’s not just hot leaf juice .” He pinched the bridge of his nose before he opened the door. “You clearly weren’t paying attention to my lecture.”

Oh no. What have you done—

“Sit down.” He closed the door behind you and brought out the tea set from the corner of the room to his mahogany desk. 

It’s all coming back.

“Now.” He took out the expensive tea from the paper bag. “Tea is one of the greatest leaps of humankind. A creation which you refuse to understand. Starting with...”

You internally groaned, having forgotten the little kiss.

This time, you kept a rapt attention. Not because the tea subject suddenly became interesting. But rather the way his lips often smiled as you witnessed the rare passion lighting his face. His voice, lost of all its hard edge, was really quite nice to listen to. 

“Did you hear all that?” Levi asked as if he was about to pounce some quiz on you.

“Uhh,” You pressed your lips together. “Nope.”

He clicked his tongue. 

You took a swig of the expensive tea, not missing the way his gaze lingered on his knuckles back to you. The sweetness and bitter taste with a hint of spice lingered on your tongue and you couldn’t help but down the entire thing.

“Seconds?” He said.

You eagerly shoved the empty teacup towards him and he took it from your hand for a refill. You expected him to return the cup, but you started from your chair when he grabbed your hand.

“Wha—”

His thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand, sending chills up your arm at how much needier they seemed compared to before.

Leaning over, he pulled your hand to his face. As if by contrast to his thumb, his lips ghosted over your own knuckles. 

Your breath hitched. 

He simply released your hand and replaced it with your teacup. You tried not to die as you retracted your arm back.

“I hate being in debt.” He then proceeded on with The Lecture as if nothing happened.

You hid your face behind the teacup, finding it difficult to ignore how your hand smelled overwhelmingly of lemons and strawberries.

For some other time, you would both sort your feelings out. Ha, silver lining.