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They curled up together before the fireplace, under layers of blankets.
Wordlessly, Levi had dragged the big fluffy carpet in the sitting room all the way to this fireplace, and brought pillows and blankets from the bedroom. She had watched him curiously, but she didn’t say a word. When he was done, he looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and nodded toward the makeshift pallet. An invitation.
She came over and lay staring at the fire. He lay down behind her, putting his arm around her and grasping her hand before her belly. Outside, the wind made whispering music out of dry autumn leaves. Inside, the fire danced on crackling firewood, untroubled by the coming of winter.
None of them said it, but they both knew they had kissed for the first time on this night, five years ago. They both had kept count. They never said anything about how long they had been together, because wasn’t time such a fragile thing? Who knew when it would run out? Better not to think about it at all.
They thought about it anyway, quietly, in their own heads.
She reached out for the book she’d been carrying and continued reading. She could feel Levi’s steady breathing against her back. He smelled of tea and fresh cotton, as usual.
“You’re not done with that book yet?” he asked in her ear.
“Every time I try to read, you keep talking to me. How can I be done?”
“You read so slowly.”
“And you talk too much, Captain.”
“Remember all those years ago when you couldn’t even read? I had to teach you.”
“I could read,” she protested. “I just wasn’t very good at it.”
“Same difference.”
She sneered playfully. “Remember all those years ago when you couldn’t even say a sentence containing longer than three words?”
“I could speak. I just didn’t like to.” He said this in his usual rough voice, but she could hear his smile.
“Well,” she chuckled softly. “Maybe I liked you better when you were quiet.”
He only grunted in response, but he gave her hand a light squeeze.
She continued reading for a while. Though she still hated to admit it, he was right. She could barely read, back then. She was even worse at writing. He had to write the reports Erwin asked from her, carefully scribing the words she dictated. It was under the torchlight at the Survey Corps library that she really got to know him for the first time, beyond the time they shared on the training field and the expeditions.
Feeling suddenly moved, she put down her book and turned around to face him. “Do you think our story would be a romance, Levi?” she asked.
He studied her quizzically. It was a weird question, sure, but she hoped he would humor her.
“Hasn’t it been already?” he asked hesitantly.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m… still not sure we have the right to be a romance, in this world of titans and wars. Maybe we should ask our proverbial readers. Would they be mad to see us making love instead of killing titans? Do they think we have more urgent things to do?”
“I personally no longer care what they think.”
“I think the one who writes our story might care, whoever they are.”
“Well, that’s dumb.”
His face turned more thoughtful, though. He had debated this matter before, with himself and with someone who had dedicated his heart for humanity’s greater good. Back then, he let that person convince him that his heart was also meant for fighting, and only for fighting. It was in the past, though. He had learned much since then. He knew now that there was more than only one kind of fight.
“People make love as much as they can. That’s just reality,” he said slowly. “Even in this shitty world, don’t we deserve a little break here and there? I don’t wanna feel like crap all the time.”
She chuckled. She snuggled closer and put a finger on the tip of his nose, tapping fondly. “You are crap. You’re my own special piece of crap. I’ll write you a thousand times over, every word a romance.”
Levi’s brow shot up at her words. His mouth moved to make a scoff, but midway it broke into an amused smile. “Aren’t you a shit talker…” he murmured.
She grinned back at him, and in that moment, she didn’t care if all the time in the world was running out. If she could only have this man for one more minute, that was enough luck for her.
Her eyesight turned blurry.
He saw himself reflected in the tears pooling in her eyes. He didn’t move to wipe away those tears, though. He saw a dash of sadness and worry in those tears, but she was also smiling.
He let her be, and she let him be. They had learned a lot, these past five years. They had learned that it was only in the tension between sadness and joy that they could find enough peace to let their hearts do what they wanted to do, which was to be close to each other. They didn’t need forever, they didn’t need everything. They just needed one more minute, every time.