Work Text:
A sweet smell wafts from the kitchen as you don your oven mitts. They’re stained and discolored from overuse, the stark blue color faded to something resembling cornflower. Maybe- just maybe- you bake too much.
Even as you take the hot pan of brownies from the oven, the side room containing your typewriter seems to glare. You glare too, and bump the oven shut with your hip.
Idly, you opt to sprinkle confectionary sugar over the steaming treats. The smell calms you, and it’s a nice change from raisin cookies. Karanese District’s baking supplies lacks in comparison to the hustle and bustle of Trost, but no one is ever short on raisins.
Three days this week you’ve made a batch, perhaps in some hope of luring Levi home and away from the frontlines. It’s been months, for goodness sake.
Winter, you firmly remind yourself. There are no expeditions in winter. He’ll come home soon.
‘Home’. What is this little cabin on the outskirts of Wall Maria? Your bed is cold and goes unmade, the kitchen useful only for your silly hobby. You prefer to eat on the porch, as you can’t stand staring at the empty seat across from yours at the dining table. No. Home will come back to you, and it must be soon.
From where you’d been arranging the fluffy brownies on an intricately designed tray- one you’d bring to the Shinganshina HQ if only Commander Erwin would allow it- you look up. The window is open, but the day is oddly still.
There’s the dirt road leading to Wall Rose to the west, Nedlay District to the north, Trost to the south. Most leaves have fallen this time of year, burnt walnut, bronze and golden by the season. (You forgot to rake today. Cast that in the basket of your forgotten to-do list, along with writing.)
The road is empty. It almost always is, and you prefer it that way. You just feel as if- maybe this time or the next- you’ll look up and see-
Two knocks resound from the next room, the front door. Stepping away from the counter, you pull your cotton apron over your head and refuse to get your hopes up. It could be Mr. Maraldi, or one of Irene’s girls. They like to come and dig into your baked goods from time to time, you know.
You open the door, and the hopes quelled down in your chest rise, then erupt in bloom. Levi is your height, and all you need to see is his neat mop of black hair to know.
You rush forward and throw your arms around him, feeling almost hysteric, “Levi!”
He grunts in surprise, and his arms enfold you in equal measure. You hear him, muffled against your cardigan, “hey. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”
From a ways behind him, Levi’s horse snorts and paws at the ground. You look past him at his black steed, gaping. “You brought Nibbles? Did you ride all the way from Shinganshina just off an expedition or something?”
Levi snorts, pulls away to mess your hair. Uncharacteristically, it lingers there. His eyes are sharp, but weary.
“Two months, and the first thing you have to say to me is a comment about my horse?”
“Well of course,” you retort, and a smirk rises to your lips, breathing new life into you. “I missed him.”
“..Insufferable woman.”
You laugh, genuinely, and your hands regretfully glide off Levi’s shoulders.
“Come in. I missed you too, you know.”
-
Levi is quite pleased with your excess cookie situation. You steep some green tea while he tucks into a few, his hand never leaving your waist once. And you tell him all about it, too. You tell him about how the garden is coming along, and your attempts at stringing together a proper instrument, just like the ones from Underground. It’s here that you notice he’s a little quieter than usual, especially after being away for so long.
At your question, Levi shakes his head dismissively and slides up behind you. He hugs your waist and tucks his face in the crook of your neck, where comfort pools in your chest.
“I just missed hearing you speak,” he says, and you grin, then crane your neck to kiss the crown of his head. “You’re always so damn excited about everything.”
You hum.
“You envy me, Grouchy?”
“Quite the opposite, actually,” Levi corrects, and pays no mind to your teasing. He doesn’t move. “All I hear anyone talk about anymore is the Titans, with this shitty look on their faces.”
Your smile dies a bit, and you kiss Levi’s hair again. He smells like pine needles and something so distinctly Levi that it makes your heart ache.
Seldom does he ever discuss these sorts of things with you, as you’d never considered joining the Scouts, or even the Cadet Corps for that matter. Or maybe he just wants to shield you from it. A destitute daughter of an even worse-off seamstress doesn’t make for a good solider.
“Erwin promoted me to Squad Leader,” Levi murmurs, as if that’s a bad thing.
You gape, turn to face him properly and pepper his face with kisses. Levi weakly feigns annoyance while his hands find the small of your back.
“That’s wonderful, love!”
“It’s..” Levi’s lips quirk with thought, as if he’s already been doing that quite a bit today. He settles on a troubled frown.
And you know just about as well as he does, what happened. You’d only visited the Underground scarcely all those years ago, but it was rare to see Levi apart from either one of those two. But they’re gone now.
“It’s a job you’ll do well at,” you finish for him, and pat his cheek as a reminder before turning back to the steeping pot. You continue, “this peace the world’s maintained for- what, a hundred-some years now?- surely isn’t permanent, Levi. Someday, I think people will need the Scouts even more than they do right now.”
“…Maybe.”
-
It’s after a filling dinner, after a tour of your recent art pieces and hours of catching each other up on your respective lives that you slump onto your plush bed. Lamplight peeks out from underneath the nearby oak door in slivers, and you doze to the sound of rushing water while your thoughts drift from this to that.
You wonder if Levi is more accustomed to sleeping in the proper place, in proper clothing now. The Underground was different, but he’s no longer there. You still have to remind Levi from time to time that he doesn’t need to scarf down his meals.
Living down there all his life, you couldn’t imagine it. Each time you descended the staircase- most times on the grounds of journalistic integrity- there was nothing but disease, death, and darkness. Not a bit of light, especially not within the hearts of the people. But Isabel was sunshine, the thought occurs to you. She exuded enough of it for Farlan and Levi both.
But she’s gone now, and so is he, you remind yourself, and brush aside the cinch in your heart. Surely, if Levi was to fall in a similar way, you couldn’t brush the loss aside so easily.
Your thoughts turn cynical: Being a Scout must be the stupidest, most dangerous, most important job in the whole wide world. Ain’t that a kick in the head.
“You look ridiculous.”
You blink up at Levi from your place at the side of the bed, upper-half sprawled halfway across the mattress. Your bare feet brush the oak flooring, and the light from the bathroom casts shadows across a majority of Levi’s form. He looks something akin to a half-naked, sculpted angel that’s just risen from a lake.
“Mmm.”
“Do you always sleep like this?”
You snort, “bold assumption, me sleeping.”
Levi scoffs, and you squeak at the warmth of his hand at the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up and onto the mattress properly. He curses as you yank him in by his broad shoulders and send him toppling down on top of you. Levi’s a lot heavier than he looks, but if his body weight’s not crushing your ribcage, how can you know for certain that he’s really, truly returned?
“Let go- my hair is wet, you idiot,” Levi grunts in your hold, as if he doesn’t possess the strength of an entire battalion of soldiers. He’s fixed a glare down at you, so you press his face to your neck by the nape of his neck, kiss his crown.
It’s true. His hair is wet.
“You smell good,” you sigh. Somewhere far away, thunder rumbles. “Never took you as a fan of lavender shampoo, Captain.”
Your shampoo.
Levi makes an unhappy sound, but by now, he’s learned his place between the two of you. You get to tease him while he acts like he doesn't like it. Levi nips playfully at your neck, and holds your delicate waist where your tunic has long-since rode up.
“I’m no one’s captain. The day I accept a role like that is the day that smug, blond bastard’s getting drop kicked.”
“Mm,” you chuckle, “by who? A baby like you?”
Levi sighs, a resounding, tired sigh. Again, thunder rumbles the sky outside. Closer now. It’s strange, because the only hint of a storm today was the thick, still air, as if you could cut it with a knife.
“Stay with me tonight?” you preposition, much softer this time. You bury your hand in Levi’s wet mop of hair, then relish in the shiver it causes. “It’s safe here, I promise.”
“…I’m still not used to it,” Levi objects, albeit slowly, and his hot breath puffs against your neck. You notice then the electricity in the air, as if lightning has struck. “Your sleep will be disturbed with me here."
"You keep telling me that as if I'll listen."
"You're an idiot."
“Well." You purse your lips. "Sleeping badly is better than sleeping without you.”
Levi stiffens a tad, then raises his head just as the sky outside breaks open. Where there had been nothing before, rain pelts the window in sheets. You catch the split-second where Levi’s gaze snaps to your window, then returns to you with earnest. A rough hand slips up your body to find your cheek.
“Are you certain?”
You frown a little, then cradle Levi’s larger hand with your own while your heart thrums in your chest. You’re elated by Levi finally giving in to something like this, but his behavior now is strangely off.
“Yes, angel. I’m certain.”
-
Levi shudders in his sleep.
Or rather, pretend-sleep. It’s hard to be certain, as his breathing finally leveled out some time ago, but his brow is furrowed harshly, as though he smells something rancid. That’s besides the fact that his lithe hand knuckles the fabric at your waist. His grip will loosen, then tighten. Loosen a fraction, then hold on as if for dear life.
Before now, you coddled Levi into a large tunic of yours to ward off the autumn chill, despite his vehement complaints. Laying down at all seemed alien to him, even more so allowing your arm to snake around his waist. Like an animal having fought within an inch of its life, now backed into a corner.
You can’t sleep. Dozing was possible before, and it was practically a prerequisite for getting Levi to sleep, but you're the one who's stranded awake now. Outside, a storm abnormal for this time of year is raging, and you’re worried about him.
It’s bittersweet. You’re curled around each other, but from where your head is pressed against the expanse of Levi’s chest, you can hear how his heart thuds like thundering hoofbeats. There’s a perpetual frown on your face beneath sunken eyes, and your own heart feels lightly tethered in your chest.
Then lightning floods the room with brief light, and the decision is made for you.
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Levi gasp before, up until now. He struggles fitfully despite your reassuring hand at his bicep, then the back of his head where his undercut lays. Yes, he holds onto you as if you'll blow away if he let go, and you know now that this is beyond a nightmare. Levi must be afraid of the tempest, for no reason you can think of.
“Levi, honey,” you whisper, pleading, “look at me, it’s alright. Look at me.”
Levi’s eyes are shut like a vice, and despite the fact that his grip on your arm is bruising, you scarcely let even a wince show on your face. Levi is more important.
He breathes harshly through his mouth, shaking his head. He either can’t- or won’t- look at you, and you don’t know which is worse. You’ve never seen Levi panic before, never had to calm him down from much of anything while it was happening.
It’s a daring gamble you make based on what Levi’s told you, and you try again, “honey, you’re not out there anymore. Come here, it’ll be alright.”
Levi willingly allows himself to be embraced snugly against your chest, but you hear his choked muttering, “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry. Fuck, I-I’m…”
It’s impossible to discern whether he’s talking to you or not, so you don’t interrupt while you maneuver yourself halfway onto your back, taking Levi with you. You want him to be able to hear your heartbeat, and you want to run your hand through his bedhead. These never fail.
“Breathe, angel, you have nothing to apologize for.”
Him, distressed and minutely shaking. You, steady, secure. Even if it's a forced front. There’s nothing that can be done about the wicked storm outside your home, but you know you can quell the one raging inside Levi’s mind.
You coil the silky strands of Levi’s hair between your fingers, and massage his scalp. Occasionally, you’ll gently tug at the softness, as if tugging Levi himself back to earth. You know it helps. You focus on breathing slowly despite your heart, and you know it helps.
What expression Levi wears now, you don’t know, but his breathing is less now. It staggers and trips, but it’s better.
Like that old, shaggy cat that likes to come around from time to time, you coo to Levi gently. That you’re both safe, and the storm won’t go on forever. It’s alright. And at some point, Levi fumbles for your free hand- the one that’s since been resting over his shoulder- and plants it on the side of his head, over his ear.
“I need to hear y-you... Just you,” Levi muffles, voice thick with well-guarded emotion. “I can’t.”
Can’t hear me, or can’t stand the storm?
Without voicing your question, you shield Levi’s head from the booming outside, the rain. It will lighten up every few minutes, then flare up again just as brutally as before. So you maintain your careful movements, and your soft words. It doesn’t matter that you’re tired. Levi’s hand remains clasped over yours, fingers laced together like threads.
“It’s alright,” you continue to murmur, blinking hard to stifle the heaviness in your eyes. “You’re not out there anymore, dear.”
Immediately upon hearing your words, Levi shudders in your arms. Even with his face obscured, you know how he’s feeling. And you’re so damn glad Levi is next to you now, instead of having made the choice to sleep elsewhere tonight. Likely, in your lounge.
Then, you’re not completely sure what motivates Levi to open up, saying, “it was my fault. It doesn’t matter if I’m out there or not, it will always be my shitty fault.”
Farlan and Isabel, you realize with a silent manner of epiphany. You understand now why Levi was so vague about what happened after his first expedition. He outright refused to speak of what happened to them back then, and never relented.
“No,” you deny, “it wasn’t.”
“…You don’t know w-what happened.”
“I don’t.” Your lip quirks. “But I know it’s not your fault because you would’ve done everything you could if they were in danger, honey.”
You kiss the top of his head.
Met with silence, you continue, “and I also know they’d be pissed to see you beating yourself up so hard over it. I just know it.”
Here, Levi muffles a sort of strangled sob against your chest, and your interlaced hands feel like a vice. You don’t dare tell him to hush; you just stroke Levi’s hair and hold him close. Sina knows he could use a good cry. You sense your eyes sting with tears too, just because.
And it’s true. Levi would have done everything he could, no matter if a thug had tried to mug them for pocket-change, or if they were facing the jaws of a Titan. Those three, thicker than thieves.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
Together, you shift Levi and yourself properly onto your sides, just so he can especially be comfortable. Your back is stiff anyway.
Here, you again kiss the top of Levi’s head where his messed hair forms a halo around. Shuddering form, heaving chest. His relentless grief is muffled against your nightgown, near your collar.
You could be imagining it, but the storm lessens as Levi quiets as well, or at least you think so. Exhaustion becomes foggy at best during this time of night. The uproar outside your home retreats to heavy rain, then a shower.
This takes some time, but once it’s calmer, your hand shifts from where you’d been shielding Levi’s hearing. You run it down his undercut, scratching gently at the prickly hairs near the base of his skull.
“...Thank you,” Levi grunts, voice charred from crying, and you smile as you brush his dark bangs away from over his eyes. Steely, heavy-lidded eyes blink at you, and he holds you close.
You want to tell him not to worry about it, but then again, maybe ‘thank you’ will always be the best way for Levi to comfortably tell you ‘I love you’.