Archive of Our Own

Levi has the same dream again.

Actually, it is more of a memory. A memory from a past life.

It starts off with an itch in his chest after a rough night of dreams—ones he never seems to remember. From there, it evolves into silhouettes of someone broad, muscular, with a frame that towers over him. Something about it always seems eerily familiar—though, he can never pinpoint it—and he wakes up with an ache that won't settle for the rest of the day. 

It’s a few months later when he begins hearing voices in his dreams—a sweet, gentle call of his name from the distance before it fades out into painfully loud, echoing silence. Before long, he lives in scenarios— No, rather than scenarios, they’re more like memories. 

Memories he wishes he could’ve left behind. Memories that have followed him into this lifetime. 

It’s a familiar enemy, yet significantly unfamiliar all the same. Levi never knows what to expect from it, but every time, he’s filled with the same torturous, weighted nausea. The memories are chains, restraining him and forcing him to relive those moments. Over and over and over. The silhouette’s voice calls out to him, a smooth, soft baritone that rumbles in his chest and scratches an itch in Levi’s heart. 

Erwin. 

The name echoes in his head like a recorder doomed to repeat itself over and over for as long as it functions. 

Erwin.

He takes his last stuttering breath before Levi. Pale cheeks are sunken in, his uniform bloodied and sticking to his dying body. His chapped lips remain agape, trembling with the effort to draw in air. 

It’s only a dream, Levi tells himself. It’s only a dream. And yet, he knows it’s not. A dream could never be this realistic—would never focus this much on awakening memories that Levi only wishes he could’ve tucked away forever. He awaits tears that never fall. 

Was my decision right? Was it wrong? The questions go unanswered as Levi’s conscience is put to the test once again. 

It might as well be a nightmare.

The air smells of smoke, of fresh blood that has yet to dry on the surfaces it stains—the roofs, the ground, the grass. Humidity lingers, smelling of damp clothes bathed in sweat and dyed in red. The fabric will wash it off—eventually—but it lingers, heavy and tormenting, like a parasite in every waking moment, coating underneath their nails, sinking into their skin until they’ve merged.

The air smells of worn-out soldiers—some who strive to see the end, who hope, and some whose spirits are lost. It smells of unsustainable losses, of heartache and failure. 

Of regret.

I did what was right.

For the first time in his life, Levi was given another chance to protect someone he cared about, to make things right. 

He let him go.

I don’t regret it.

He did it to protect Erwin’s dreams. To save that last shred of blind innocence left in him, buried underneath the facade of a man who’d become a stranger to his own emotions. 

I did it for Erwin’s sake.

And where did that get him?

I won’t regret it. 

At some point, Levi wonders when the words lost their meaning—when they became nothing more than empty syllables that he mumbled to delude himself. 

When the weather warms, the sun’s visits are more frequent. 

Levi’s come to fear it. He fears a lot of things related to Erwin. On these days, Levi would venture into his office to find him gazing out the window. Complaints could be heard from the room next door—Hange, Levi would guess, judging by the brazen curses used—but Erwin wouldn’t think so. He’d turn to him, a smile stretched across his face as he said, “Levi, look how lovely it is today." A million colourful words would sit on Levi’s tongue. And just like that, they’d dissipate. 

Look how lovely it is today.

Ironic—that Erwin died on such a day.

Perhaps those were his last thoughts before he never opened his eyes again. Maybe—just maybe—he saw the gleaming sun above and thought just that—lovely. He probably smiled up at the sky, at the birds overhead, and shut his eyes with a calmed mind. Lovely.

Levi, look how lovely it is today. 

Darkened, rainy days would have the opposite effect. Erwin would often gaze off into the distance, his eyes trailing away from his novel. Levi would pretend he did not notice, but he had never been good at paying attention to wordy things such as books. Eventually, he would find himself watching Erwin. Learning his behaviours, cataloguing them, observing. Every now and then, Erwin would blink back into focus, his mind reeled in, and then his gaze would grow far again—succumbing once more to his thoughts. “It is raining pretty heavily today, Levi,” Erwin would state, shattering their perfect silence. Any comment Levi was about to make would be swallowed down. 

These are the days his nightmares increase.

When the sun sets, he tosses and turns as he’s plagued with vivid memories from a different lifetime. His room is always empty, and yet, he can feel gazes on him. He wonders if the stars are witnessing the mess he’s made of himself. 

Come morning, he feels a little heavier.

And when it rains, he cries a little harder. 

~~~

The air in the bar is cool, the AC blasted to drown out the heat that lingers outside the entrance. There is hushed chatter near the back of the bar, a couple huddled together with their heads close as they tipsily mumble something to one another. The man rests the rim of his glass against his lips, his smile growing before he throws his head back and laughs. It echoes in the otherwise silent bar. 

On the other side of the bar sits a woman clad in business attire, tailored grey suit wrinkled and no longer buttoned in the front. She simply stares into the drink in her hand, seemingly lost in thought, before tilting her head back and downing the last of it.

Business has been moderate today, not too rushed, but just enough to give Levi something to do. 

This isn’t his preferred line of work—he’s never been big on drinking, even if he does drink a bottle or so every now and then when he finds it necessary. However, it does pay well and it’s the only way he can afford to pay rent until he finds something better. 

He looks around the bar once more, scanning everyone’s faces as if he’s searching for someone. His subconscious probably is.

It has become a habit of sorts—letting his eyes roam over his surroundings and cataloguing everyone’s faces, almost hoping to spot someone he recognizes. Alas, he never lets himself expect anything, which is a task that comes easily to him.

He has yet to come across a significantly valuable face, only catching glimpses here and there of ocean blue eyes. They’re never the same blue, though. Never an enticing cerulean that twinkles under the sunlight and sends tremours running up Levi's spine.

It’s lonely, he thinks. He half expects to be jumped by a titan-obsessed maniac, or hunt down a kid that can’t regulate his emotions and keep his abilities in check. 

He half expects to turn and see a mop of perfectly slicked blond hair. A man so sophisticated, he always carried himself with such grace, such elegance that made his broad frame all the more intimidating. Blue eyes that would hold a gaze set in stone, presumably lacking empathy, but carrying a heart of gold that’s been tucked away.

Levi wonders if Erwin still carries himself with the same anchored dominance and authority, if his eyes still hold apathy and dreams for humanity’s future. He wonders if his shoulders are still tense, if there’s still the evident crease between his eyebrows, bags under his eyes from sleepless nights that only Levi knows about. Or maybe, he’s eased up. Maybe Erwin is no longer troubled, no longer standing atop hundreds of dead bodies and carrying the burden and guilt of sacrificing them all. 

Maybe Erwin is finally letting himself smile. 

He wonders if Erwin’s even made it into this lifetime. Have any of them made it into this lifetime, and if so, do any of them remember the events of their past? Or is Levi the only one who’s walking with extra years’ worth of overbearing memories—ones that continue to haunt him and prevent him from seeking closure? 

This time, when his eyes don’t fall upon anyone familiar, Levi doesn’t feel his heart sink in the slightest. After all, he’s grown accustomed to it.

“Levi.” He hears someone call his name off to his right, and Levi twists his torso to gaze up at Moblit, who was once under Hange’s command. He’s the only person from his past life that he’s met in this time as well. However, Levi doesn’t consider it a significant discovery. They had never been close, and Levi hadn’t even recognized him when they first met. There were no interactions between them that held any sort of relevance, though Levi does vaguely remember the memory of a man constantly chasing Hange around and attempting to keep them in check. 

Of course, Moblit doesn’t remember Hange. In fact, he has no recollections of his past life, of sacrificing himself to save his team captain. And maybe, it’s for the best.

“What is it?” he asks. 

“Do you think we need a refill on the ice?” The lack of honourifics never fails to throw Levi off at first. It seems he’s gotten too used to being addressed formally—he isn’t well acquainted with being talked to in a friendly manner. 

He hates to admit he misses being called captain. 

Glancing at the remaining ice they have for drinks, Levi concludes, “We’ll need more. Get another bag from the back.” He doesn’t look to see Moblit running off.

A few more customers come and go, a few with hair so strikingly blond, Levi halts, a certain name resting on the tip of his tongue before he sees their face, and his shoulders sag, the hope he refuses to acknowledge dimming.  

It’s an hour before closing time, the clock having just hit midnight, when Levi hears the chime of the bell above the door. It signals the arrival of another customer. Levi doesn’t look up from where he’s drying the clear glasses, his mind too tired to focus on anything other than the task at hand.

Despite only ever getting three hours of sleep as a soldier, he had still somehow functioned well enough to fight. Levi wonders how he had ever done it. Maybe his current body is exhausted after what it had been put through in his previous life. Or maybe he’s grown weaker. 

Next to him, Moblit greets the customers with a smile. Levi doesn’t raise his head, but he hears the chairs right up at the bar screech slightly when they’re dragged out, and two large frames plop into them.

“Levi, could you handle their drinks? I’ll be back in a bit,” Moblit says. After mumbling out an affirmative, Levi listens to the dull echo of Moblit’s retreating footsteps.

Without taking his eyes off the glasses, Levi asks, “What would you like?” His tone comes out a little sharper than he’d intended, and he barely manages to hold back a grimace. 

He wonders if he’s made his fatigue too apparent, if the shadows that hang beneath his eyes are as dark as he believes they are.

He has half a mind to apologize, but the men begin ordering before he can even open his mouth. “I think we’ll both get a whiskey.”

The glass in Levi’s hand almost slips, and he grips the cloth in his other hand tighter.

Words ring in his ears, a tangle of incoherent syllables.

What did they want again? 

I think we’ll both get a whiskey.

Right. They’ll get a whiskey. 

It can’t be. There’s no way—

That’s what they ordered. Two whiskeys. 

I must’ve heard wrong.

Two whiskeys. Two whiskeys. Two whiskeys. Two whisk—

But no, he couldn’t have. He doesn’t know anyone else with a tone so deep, so hardened with authority that even Levi, someone who had grown apathetic to others’ attempts at intimidation, would get goosebumps every time he spoke. 

There’s no one whose voice he’s longed to hear more than his. 

He has to prepare the whiskeys.

Maybe I’m wrong.

His grip on the glass tightens. 

He raises his head.

Before him are two blonds, one darker and venturing more into light brown, a thin moustache sitting atop his lips. Meanwhile, the other has his hair slicked back almost perfectly—if it weren't for the single strand that falls over his forehead. Definitely the results of a stressful day. Thick, dark brows make way for drooping, tired blue eyes and…

Erwin.

The name feels like iron on Levi’s tongue. It sits heavily, heavily, waiting to be spoken, to be breathed in a form of relief.

He doesn’t say it.

Erwin is sitting right across from Levi, only a few inches away, so close that Levi could just reach out— So close that he could touch—

The glass in his hands slips, clattering against the counter rather loudly. Levi startles back into motion.

Almost frightfully, Levi glances into Erwin’s hauntingly ocean blue eyes. He could never forget them—could pick them out in a crowd, could always feel them boring through his very soul and leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable whenever they crossed paths.

And he waits.

He waits for them to widen in recognition, to twitch even slightly, or for a flicker of light in his otherwise dull eyes to dance over his pupils.

Anything.

He averts his eyes before he’s caught, and doesn’t dare to look back up.

But it’s Erwin, and he’s right there, chuckling and smiling softly, both arms intact and shoulders slumping as tranquillity eases its way into his tense muscles. He looks healthy despite the dark bags under his eyes. But most importantly, he’s alive. 

Levi slides their drinks across the counter, going out of his way to avoid their gazes. However, he halts when Erwin looks at him and says, “Thank you.” He smiles at him, no teeth and just tightly pulled lips. And Levi feels warm—so warm like he’s being burned from the inside out.

Erwin is looking at him, smiling at him— He sees him, acknowledges him, and he’s sure to recognize Levi. He’s sure to—

Then, as if a bucket of cold water is dumped on him, the warmth seizes.

Oh.

Cold, guarded, tired.

He doesn't remember the last time he's seen such a look on Erwin.

Like he is speaking to a stranger, flashing a gentle smile out of pure respect and nothing more. It’s taut, performed with great effort—as if Erwin wishes he were anywhere but here. And his eyes return to being dull, drooping with exhaustion as Mike continues talking. And then… 

Nothing.

Erwin doesn’t spare Levi a single glance after that.

His glass remains half full.

Stumped, sick to his fucking stomach. 

Levi wonders if the stars are currently laughing at him, humouring themselves as they watch his dejected form across from the object of his recurring nightmares. A man whose footsteps Levi has stepped into over and over again until the earth softened and Levi fell in, falling through abyss after abyss until he jerked himself awake. A man whom Levi could never reach, always a step behind, stumbling and growing farther and farther away until he could do nothing more than stare at Erwin’s back as he faded into the distance. 

Maybe… Erwin really doesn’t remember him. 

After all, why would he when he now has the chance to restart and live through an opportunity he had once only dreamt of? What’s the point in remembering Levi when their history together was a lifetime ago? He no longer needs a right-hand man, a captain, by his side, executing his every order and trailing after him.

It doesn’t matter, then— It doesn't matter. Because if he can’t remember anything, no matter how identical he is to Erwin, he isn’t really him.

When Erwin asks for another glass, Levi does so silently, grey eyes muted. 

He wishes his shift would end. 

~~~

The hour seems to drag on agonizingly slow, almost like it’s trying to spite Levi, but it finally comes to a close. He’s exhausted to his very core, fingers stiff from the number of drinks he’s had to serve and the glasses he’s had to clean. The air in the bar has changed, no longer cool, but instead growing humid. 

The bar emptied out a long while ago, save for the two men who still sit by the counter, their glasses stacked. Mike is shit-faced drunk already, head down on the counter as he lets out incoherent groans every now and then. Erwin’s current state isn’t as bad, judging by how he’s still capable of sitting up straight. His eyes have yet to lose focus, but his cheeks are slightly flushed. 

Levi wants to kiss them.

Ignoring the flutter in his chest, Levi clears his throat and says, “We’re closing now, so I suggest you get your friend out of here. I need to clean.”

Erwin startles, blinking out of his daze and glancing at Levi like a deer caught in headlights. “Right, of course. My apologies, I didn’t realize the time.” He places a gentle hand on Mike’s shoulder and shakes him, to which Mike merely lets out a displeased grunt. Hearing this, Erwin sighs and slings Mike’s arm around his shoulders before throwing Levi an apologetic look. 

Levi pretends it doesn’t faze him. 

The bell above the door tinkles on their way out. Levi finally peels his eyes away from them, unaware that his eyes had been boring holes into Erwin’s back until he disappeared. 

Moblit is in the background, wiping down the empty tables and straightening out the seats and grabbing glasses that have been left on the surface. He carries them back to the counter on trays, held steadily in both hands from a great deal of practice. 

It’s silent between them for a bit—Moblit handling the rest of the tables while Levi washes out the glasses and places the dry ones away. This isn’t unusual. Moblit has always tilted more to quiet and timid, meanwhile, Levi has never been interested in idle chit-chat with those he doesn’t consider himself particularly close to—whether it’s in this life or the last. But this time, Moblit surprises him by asking, “Do you know those men?”

Taken aback, Levi mumbles out, “What?”

“Those men that just left. Do you know them?”

Levi mulls over the question for a second, licking his bottom lip. After some consideration, he mumbles, “No.”

“Really? Because it seemed to me like one of them knew you. He seemed very intrigued by you. Kept taking side glances at you.” Moblit tenses when he feels Levi’s blank stare on him. “B-But maybe I’m wrong! There’s always the chance that I misinterpreted it.”

Levi bites the inside of his cheek, silently gazing at the dry glass in his hand. “... Whatever you say,” he mumbles. 

~~~

The bar’s lights are finally shut off, encasing the area in a blanket of black. Moblit has left already, leaving Levi to close up. 

When he steps out into the night, the stars greet him, though the moon is hidden behind the clouds. The streetlights are his only source of light, lining the sides of the road and casting shadows onto the sidewalk. It’s too late for anyone else to be out, but some cars whizz by, anyway, booming laughter trickling out through the small cracks between the agape window and the doorframe. 

Levi inhales. 

Here, he feels at peace. As captain of the scouts, he never once believed he’d live in a free world—never gave himself the chance to entertain the idea. A world without walls. He’d lived in a never-ending cycle of violence, fighting for his life underground, and then fighting for his life beyond the walls. Where the birds flew free and a whole other world outside of their knowledge existed, and where the titans roamed. Even after the titans, a new era of violence had struck—one that put humans against themselves. 

But in this world, where gas pollutes the air and the ocean is only a few hours’ drive away, he’s free. He’s free to roam without the restrictions of walls, without feeling suffocated, without having to live on edge—wondering how much time he has left, and if this expedition will be his or a close comrade’s last. 

For once, he can breathe without feeling unworthy of it. 

His nostrils tingle when he exhales, the stinging cold causing him to pull his black trench coat tighter around his frame. He kicks around childishly at a rock that’s sitting by his feet, wondering if he should hail a cab or walk the rest of the way home. Buses aren’t running at this hour, and there isn’t a single cab in sight. Though, in this weather, walking is less than favourable. 

After all, he no longer has the same endurance as he once did when he was a soldier. 

Sighing, Levi tilts his head back against the brick wall of the bar, watching his breath puff out in front of him. 

All of a sudden, he hears footsteps approaching—heavy soles cleanly hitting the cobblestone without a single scrape. Levi isn’t sure who could be out strolling at this hour. Eyelids resting heavily, he is too exhausted to his core to check who it is, but he hopes they won’t pay him any mind and pass quickly. He isn’t in the mood to deal with creepy perverted old men or loud groups of delinquents who haven’t even graduated high school. But, judging by the sounds of the shoes, it’s only one person. That, he can deal with.

To his dismay, the footsteps begin to slow, and soon, they’ve come to a stop by his side. 

Fighting the urge to grumble incoherently, Levi blinks his eyes open, only to come face to face with a broad chest. He stares blankly, eyes refusing to focus, before he finally tilts his head up to gaze into the face of the stranger. Instead, he comes across blond hair that’s almost darkened to brown in the night light, blue eyes that look borderline navy and—

“Levi.”

Huh. 

“...Huh?”

Levi?

The rustling of the leaves as the wind carries them away is a distant sound. 

Blond hair slicked back, coming undone from a day of stress and hard work. The familiar sight of dark bags underneath his eyes from nights of close to no sleep. Cerulean eyes gaze down at him—pools of deep blue that feel as wide as the ocean. Tired, so tired, but alive. 

Levi doesn’t believe it—he doesn’t believe it. He misheard. He must’ve— Maybe he’s exhausted to the point of being delusional. Maybe he's— Maybe —

But, no, not maybe.

It’s Erwin, right here in front of him—Levi blinks twice to ensure he isn’t hallucinating—when he should’ve left over an hour ago, who spoke his name with such ease. Almost as if— As if it had only been yesterday since they last saw one another. And it feels like yesterday. Just yesterday that he had been perched on the edge of Erwin’s desk, watching him sign papers while he took sips of his tea. It rolls off his tongue so easily as if he’s been waiting months and years and decades to say it. 

It’s Erwin, and he doesn’t look like the same man Levi had served in the bar. No, his eyes are no longer dull, but an ocean blue, his whole face filled with recognition. He looks as if he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing, as if he’d just confirmed Levi is not a hallucination. 

Levi watches as Erwin swallows nervously. “Levi… do you remember me?”

Levi feels like snapping. I don't understand, he wants to say. Because why would Erwin think— Why would he think Levi ever forgot him? I remember... Of course, I remember you. Are you— You’re being stupid on purpose, right? Right?

But Erwin’s gaze is uncertain, his stance holding caution and his eyes fearing rejection. His posture is rigid, wary, anxious. And—

Levi’s hands are shaking, he realizes. His entire body is trembling like a leaf, his breath caught in his throat and his head feeling like a giant knot of wires.

So Levi breathes, careful and soft, “Of course, I do.”

Four words, simple and supposedly lacking impact, but Erwin’s shoulders droop, his tightly pressed lips parting to exhale in relief. They curl up into a wavering smile, and Levi is struck with how odd it is—to see Erwin so nervous. 

But he is really here, in the flesh, smiling down at Levi, and he thinks, So, it is you. You’re really here. You're Erwin—my erwin. You’re really my Erwin. Instead, Levi says, “It seems Moblit was right.”

Erwin blinks blankly. “Moblit?” he echoes. It takes him a second, but he brightens in recognition. “Ah, you mean the man you’re currently working with? The one who was on Hange’s team?”

“Yeah, he said he saw you taking side glances at me while I was working.” Levi peers up at Erwin’s tall frame, clucking his tongue. “I didn’t know you’d turned into a pervert.”

This causes Erwin to let out an airy chuckle, and if Levi were one for facial expressions, he would’ve smiled. His heart skips a beat, anyway, and Levi sighs. When was the last time he had the luxury of witnessing Erwin laugh freely? 

“I haven’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn't believe I was seeing you again.”

Yeah, me neither. In fact, I still can’t. 

Erwin continues. “I guess…” He licks his lips self-consciously, and Levi hates himself for letting his eyes follow the action. “I guess I’ve always been prone to watching you. I just didn’t realize you’d changed so much.”

“A good change, or a bad change?” Levi asks.

Erwin’s lips curl up and he takes a step closer, watching Levi carefully. Levi doesn’t move. He doesn't let himself breathe. 

“A wonderful change… You were always so lovely but, Levi, I didn’t realize you were capable of becoming so captivating.”

Captivating. Erwin finds him captivating. Thought he was lovely in the past. Levi has half the mind to ask him to repeat his statement. He doesn't.

A faint blush dusts his cheeks, and he scowls. “You’ve also gotten more poetic. Have you spent this entire fucking lifetime sweet-talking people into doing your bidding?” Erwin laughs again, all throaty and low. Levi feels something stir in the pit of his stomach, a feeling by no means unpleasant. Levi doesn’t dwell on it, but he knows it’s there when he continues talking. “If you remembered me, why did you pretend you didn’t?” He despises it—the way the words come out all vulnerable, quiet despite his efforts to sound nonchalant.

There’s still a space of unspoken words dangling between them, a lifetime apart putting up barriers they never believed they’d have. Levi watches as Erwin chews his bottom lip, almost like he’s figuring out how to word it. He gives him time, waiting with his chilled hands tucked into his pockets to keep them warm.

Finally, Erwin sucks in a breath and says, “Because I didn’t want to startle you.” At that, Levi frowns, unsure what Erwin’s trying to get at. “I recognized you right away, but I didn’t think you would. At some point, I thought I’d caught a glimpse of familiarity in your eyes, but you never said anything, so I assumed it was all in my head. Besides, even though I knew it was you, if you didn’t remember anything… then it wasn’t really you.”

Idiot. Such an idiot. You're a fucking idiot. And, honestly, so am I. “Does Mike remember anything?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Erwin sighs.

Levi didn’t think so. He caught no recognition in his eyes when they locked for the first time. And yet… “You two still met each other in this lifetime, despite him not remembering anything.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“How fucking romantic,” Levi says sarcastically. “I guess you guys are soulmates or whatever they say. Destined to meet each other in a new life.”

“I found you in this lifetime, too.” Erwin’s gazing down at him with a tender smile, one that is completely different from the one Levi saw in the bar. This one might be tired with no teeth, but it’s not tightlipped or distant. Instead, it’s familiar, one that Levi’s always known to be reserved for him only. Erwin’s “Levi” smile, Hange used to jokingly call it. 

“Yeah,” Levi murmurs, breath catching in his throat, “I guess you did.”

Erwin smiles again, all warm and soft around the edges, free of guilt and earth-crushing burdens. There are fewer wrinkles on his face, too, adding more youth to his appearance than Levi’s ever seen. He’d never noticed just how tired Erwin used to be until now.

To change the subject, Levi asks, “What are you even doing out so late? Surely, you have a girlfriend waiting for you at home.” The tease falls short when it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Erwin shrugs. “I got off work not too long ago.” Then, quieter, he says, “And for your information, I don’t have anyone waiting at home for me.” The way he glances at Levi makes him feel put on the spot, like his reaction is being recorded.

He tries to ignore the way his heart soars. 

“And you chose to waste your night away at a bar instead of going home? Sounds pretty fucking stupid to me.”

“You still have the same way of talking, I see,” Erwin laughs.

Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes childishly. “Why? Does it offend you or some shit?”

Erwin pauses, then his face relaxes, and his eyes soften with fondness. “No, not at all.”

It’s silent between them. A car whizzes past. 

Levi swallows. “You know, the room felt cold after you were gone,” He glances down at his hands.

“I know,” Erwin replies. 

“After you passed, I often visited your grave.”

Erwin swallows the lump in his throat. “I know.”

But he doesn’t know. And Levi feels the need to tell him. To let him know that he hadn’t easily been forgotten, to remind him that he wasn’t—isn’t—someone that Levi could ever replace. 

I missed you goes unsaid, dangling off the tip of Levi’s tongue. I missed you. He’s afraid it’ll slip out before he can catch himself. I missed you so much. But he doesn’t say it, for he already knows what Erwin’s reply would be.

I know.

Levi’s throat itches and his breath stutters, fogs in front of him. “Erwin, do you— Do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” Erwin repeats, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why would I hate you?”

Because I chose to save Armin over you. Because I let my personal feelings get in the way of my decision. 

Because I let you go.

Erwin is silent at first, choosing to regard Levi with a blank stare. Then, in a murmured, but unwavering voice, he replies, “No, I could never hate you.”

There isn’t a single ounce of dishonesty or doubt in his eyes. Erwin means it, Levi can tell. For all that Erwin is a difficult man to comprehend, he has always made his honesty transparent. 

With Levi, at least.

And Levi hates it—hates that he’s on the receiving end of endless trust that is still sustained, even after everything that had gone down. He hates himself—his lost, faltering self who’d sacrificed someone valuable due to his selfishness. He hates himself for immediately regretting it when it finally sunk in that he’d never get Erwin back.

“You know... I regretted it…”

Erwin frowns. “What?”

Levi doesn’t like the way he’s trembling. “I… I regretted it so much—”

A sigh. “Levi—”

“I regretted it, you fucking idiot— I regretted it so much, goddamnit,” Levi blurts and he feels prickling in his eyes. He doesn't want to cry. He feels shameful for crying, for showing weakness—for stuttering like a fool. Levi doesn't want to cry, he really doesn't, but he can feel hot tears blurring his vision, anyway. He quickly averts his eyes and glares down at the quivering leaves by his feet.

“I thought about bringing you back. When Eren begged for the serum, I hesitated because all I could think about was you. I could only think about bringing colour back into your face, and I just wanted you to open your stupid eyes and just look at me like you've always done. And then, fuck, I'm so stupid, I thought against it.” Levi struggles to swallow down a bitter laugh at what he can only describe as his past foolishness. “Maybe I should let him go, and save even a sliver of his innocence, I had thought. But goddamn, everyone was furious that I had let go of you, said you were supposed to be the one to lead humanity to its victory, and they were all right, I understand why they were all angry with me, and I started to wonder if I’d made a mistake…” His last words come out choked, and he immediately stops upon realizing he is rambling. 

When Erwin doesn’t respond right away, Levi feels the tickling urge to curl up in shame. For someone so prideful, he didn’t even realize he could spew so much. He wants to hide, throw something over his face and wash the humiliation away by chugging down cans of beer in his cramped, secluded apartment. 

Then, he feels large, calloused but warm fingers grasp his hand, and he blinks away the wetness in his eyes enough to see that Erwin has reached out to him. The first step he takes forward has Levi’s breath hitching, and he holds it, refusing to even let his eyes flutter until there is barely any space between them. 

“Levi, look at me.”

Levi does not. He doesn’t think he has the right to—not after making a fool of himself.

But he feels a hand cup the side of his face, thumb rubbing his cheek in a soothing motion that has Levi subconsciously leaning into it. And— oh, he’s warm. So warm. 

“Levi,” Erwin tries again.

This time, with the help of the hand on his cheek, Levi finally lifts his gaze. His neck strains with the action, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, it feels vividly familiar, and it’s comforting. Erwin, his beautiful Erwin, is looking down at him, cerulean eyes reflective and twinkling underneath the light of the stars and streetlights. 

He sees Erwin’s gaze grow soft, a look of empathy that Levi’s never seen him hold for anyone. Not when he was presumably a cold-hearted commander, not for as long as he was alive. I must be the first one he’s ever shown this side of himself to. 

It makes Levi feel special, treasured. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels like an awkward kid, fighting to keep himself from stumbling. 

To see such a vulnerable side of Erwin makes Levi feel trusted. And for all that Erwin trusts him, he wants to tell Erwin that he trusts him so much more.

Lowering his gaze, Levi cups the hand that holds his face. It’s big, easily cupping his cheek, and so, so warm. “Hey, Erwin… do you think,” Levi hesitates, “do you think I should’ve been selfish?”

A part of him is afraid to have asked the question, wondering if he’d been better off keeping his mouth shut. But even though Erwin doesn’t respond right away, he still holds Levi’s face with the same firmness, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing over the soft, pale skin of his cheek. 

“Levi,” Erwin says, “do you remember why I put you in charge of the serum?” Levi remembers why—of course, he does— he would never forget, and Erwin knows that. “It’s because I trusted you, and no matter what decision you made, I would have supported it wholeheartedly. I knew whatever you chose to do with it would be the right choice.”

Levi scoffs. “That’s stupid of you. To blindly trust me, that is.” Levi is now fully aware that he’s leaning into Erwin’s hand, but he doesn’t stop it. After everything, he doesn’t think he has the right to feel ashamed now. 

The corners of Erwin’s lips twitch up into a smile. “Is it? I don’t see it that way.” When Levi gazes at him questioningly, Erwin continues. “In all the years that we’ve been together, you’ve always stood by my side—trusting my judgement, supporting my decisions, fighting alongside me. I have every right to trust you, don’t I?”

I trust you more. For opening up to me first, for recognizing my talent and giving my life a purpose, for teaching me what it’s like to be free. “You’re stupid,” is what Levi says, instead, with a lighthearted roll of his wet eyes.

Erwin chuckles. “Perhaps, I am. But then, you’d have to take responsibility for it.”

And involuntarily, Levi’s chest flutters. He wonders if the streetlights are dim enough to hide the reddening in his cheeks. “Did this lifetime make you disgustingly sappy or some shit?”

“I don't know. Perhaps it has.” Erwin’s gazing down at him fondly, his hand unmoving on his face. Levi feels bare—slightly exposed from being subjected to such a heavy look—to the point where he has to physically clasp his hands together to keep from curling in on himself. 

Levi loves him. The acknowledgement is heavy, simple yet packed with emotion and delicacy and vulnerability. But he does. In that lifetime, and even now, he’s been in love—with beautiful, kind-hearted, loving Erwin who hid underneath his cold facade. 

This beautiful man drew him in, a drug that dangled itself in front of helpless Levi, and coaxed him into becoming an addict. Alas, Erwin is a cruel, cruel man, and Levi is nothing more than a spider helplessly caught in his web. He’s devoured by Erwin’s presence, his words, his lingering gaze, and he lays back and takes it all, arms spread. 

In the past, Erwin had always been so close, yet so far—their statuses and situation separating them. Erwin had been a man of raw intelligence, living every day out on the surface, establishing dreams at a young age, and holding the fate of humanity in his hands. Meanwhile, Levi had spent the better part of his life rotting in his mother’s room in a brothel, watching her waste away in the bed next to him, wondering when his time would come. 

Even when Levi had joined the scouts, Erwin had always seemed untouchable. He’d been an unreadable man who held passion for what he did and everyone’s hope. Perhaps, Levi had slightly envied him, his enigmatic nature alluring, and Levi had loved him so much. So, so much that he had accepted he’d never have a place in Erwin’s heart, in his world. Longing, gentle eye contact here and there, privately exchanged soft smiles, and yet, nothing more. 

But now, Erwin is here. Standing right in front of him as a man without burdens, without walls encasing him, without the weight of humanity on his shoulders, and Levi still loves him all the same. Here, he is a man stripped bare of his title. 

For once, he feels reachable—like someone attainable. 

And he's still so beautiful.

Without thinking, Levi finds himself reaching up and grabbing the front of Erwin’s coat. He isn’t sure what comes over him, but it happens, and it feels right, and suddenly, he’s pulling Erwin down to close the gap between them, sealing their lips. For a second, Erwin pauses, as if he’s struggling to process what’s occurring. It doesn’t take long for him to snap out of it, however, and soon enough, he’s responding with equal fervour, if not much more passionate. His hands slip down, one encompassing Levi’s hip while the other encircles his waist, pulling him flush against his chest.

The proximity and height difference put a strain on Levi’s neck, but it tastes sweet. So sweet, it has him tightening his grip on the fabric of Erwin’s outerwear. It feels a little unfamiliar, and for a brief moment in the back of his mind, Levi finds himself missing that stupid bolo tie Erwin always had around his neck. He remembers, with vivid clarity, clinging onto it after covering Erwin’s cold body with his cape. Remembers keeping it tucked in his drawer, near the bottom where he knew no one would rummage through. 

Maybe hooking his finger in the thin leather of the tie would’ve been easier, maybe even a bit sexier, but the thought disappears as quickly as it comes because Erwin is pulling away for a quick breather before delving back in, his grip on Levi never loosening.

For a bit, Levi struggles to keep up, panting against Erwin’s lips and slacking his jaw to let Erwin take. It’s neither slow nor gentle, but desperate, their hands grabbing at each other, unable to part as if they can’t get enough, like they’re afraid this moment will slip out of their fingers if they give themselves even a moment to think. 

But it’s warm—so warm. Erwin’s lips are softer than Levi has ever imagined them to be, the faint taste of alcohol lingering, and Levi finds himself growing soft and pliant until short whines escape his throat. He feels like letting Erwin take—wants to give him everything he can. But Levi doesn't have that. He doesn't have everything. There is nothing else of significant value he owns, so he goes more pliant, very pliant, in hopes that he will be enough for Erwin.

Wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by Erwin, Erwin, Erwin, Levi feels secure, and he feels more certain than he’s ever felt in his life. 

He realizes that this is what he’s been after for so long. To finally be in Erwin’s hold and acknowledged as his lover, to finally be given the opportunity to act upon his feelings without fear of losing it all.

He’d been given many opportunities in his life to make decisions he would never regret. And he tried—he really did. But every uncertain decision led to an unwanted death—a death he could’ve prevented. Just like that, he lost many comrades, some of which he could even call his friends. No matter the outcome, he struggled to grasp the concept of accepting his choices and moving on without remorse.

But this, he knows, is a decision he has been waiting to make. His only regret is that he hadn’t done this sooner. 

However, he knows it's only ill thinking. There hadn’t been room in their hearts to pursue love and relationships. Every day, they lived on edge, never knowing when they’d die. Their hands were too occupied to let themselves be tied down to someone they could lose at any moment. 

But, now that Levi considers it, maybe he had already let himself be tied down to Erwin. Maybe all those years of serving at his side, obeying his orders, observing his habits and learning his behaviours had drawn him in, anchoring him. So when he lost the one man he had dedicated his life to, he became nothing more than a person with bottled regrets and a broken heart. 

Maybe this—their current desperation and grappling hands—is a sign of their longing, of how long they’ve waited for this moment. 

A part of Levi feels like he’s levitating, maybe even melting into Erwin’s frame. His legs feel like jello, barely managing to support his weight as he balances himself on his tiptoes to press himself closer to Erwin. His hands grapple at Erwin's ridiculously broad shoulders as embarrassing noises leave his mouth. He feels Erwin stupidly grin against his lips, swallowing each whimper and delving back in to draw another one out of him.

He can’t get enough of it, of feeling Erwin against him, his lips pulp and his hands firm around his waist, his presence placing a comfortable weight on Levi’s shoulders. And Erwin—he holds Levi like he’s someone precious, like he needs to treat him with the utmost delicacy and feel more of him. One of Levi’s hands slips from Erwin’s shoulder to cup the side of his face, feeling the smooth skin under the pad of his thumb, running it along the sharp jut of his high cheekbone. Despite the nipping cold, his skin still feels warm, and the single contact heats Levi up from the inside, causing his fingertips and his body to tingle for a completely different reason.

With extreme reluctance, they both part, their lips hovering over one another as they pant. Erwin’s eyes are lidded, a look of something that Levi can’t quite pinpoint evident in his gaze. Levi wonders if he’s in a similar state.

“Come home with me?” Erwin breathes against Levi’s lips.

Levi tuts. “Is this your way of asking if you can fuck me?” he retorts lightheartedly. His lips threaten to curl up when Erwin chuckles, low and breathy before he leans forward to seal their lips again—this time for a very chaste kiss. 

He rests his forehead against Levi’s when he pulls away, but he’s still grinning from ear-to-ear and—my God, Levi thinks lovingly—the guy isn’t even trying to conceal his content. 

It’s a moment later of silence while they brush lips that Levi realizes Erwin is still waiting for an answer. “Fine, whatever, we can do what you want.” Erwin knows that’s the best he’s going to get out of Levi, and really, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He runs his thumb over Levi’s knuckles with a gaze that’s oddly close to fondness. Levi doesn’t blush—he doesn’t blush—but then Erwin is raising his hand and kissing each of his knuckles, each kiss lingering longer than the last. Putty. Levi feels like putty, all warm and soft like he’s about to melt into the concrete. Something in his gut twists, sharply and harshly, and the wind feels knocked out of him. 

They’d once been broken men, dancing around each other and never reaching out for fear of establishing naive hope. They'd exchanged soft touches, a simple brush of the hand that burned after they'd parted. They'd loved and cowered and laughed and sought comfort in each other's presence, and had functioned on borrowed time, letting it slip through their fingers.

And maybe they’re still a little broken, haunted by past memories and guilt that never truly settle. Maybe Levi's nightmares won't seize for a long while, and he'll find himself spending another sleepless night buried under his sheets, sobbing as he's drenched in cold sweat. Maybe Erwin will grapple at his arm and the phantom pain that shoots through it, a reminder of what he'd lost, and the second chance he's been granted.

But that’s okay, Levi concludes, because Erwin is right here, smiling down at him and gently holding his hand, running a soothing thumb over the back of his palm. He’s here, not as a soldier, but as an ordinary man with an ordinary life, a man with spare time and a mending heart.

This time, Levi doesn’t feel like he’s chasing Erwin’s shadow—he no longer feels like a man he will never reach. No more does Levi feel as if they’re separated by ranks and roles and backstories; this time, he truly feels like Erwin’s equal, like belonging together isn’t so farfetched. 

And then— 

Erwin is slipping his fingers between the gaps of Levi’s, their palms pressed together, and Erwin is tugging him along to where his car is parked underneath a streetlamp. 

Warm.

For the first time, Levi feels at ease.

Content, and in love.