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DUSK. THE MISTED porthole framed a horizon of lapping waves against a jaundiced sky. A beam of sickly light filtered down from the tiny window into the cabin; its narrow confines crowded with a single bed and two tub chairs. One of these was occupied by Hange who had drawn up a small table beside her. Gauze swabs, saline, fresh bandages and a metal bowl had all been laid out. Levi sat in the opposite seat. Without his bandages the torn flesh of his face lay exposed. Hange leaned forwards, so close that the outline of her cheek blurred at the corner of his vision. Shoulders tensed, Levi concentrated on Hange’s right earlobe as she applied a swab to his stitches. A single bead of saline trickled, the moisture cold against his burning skin. Hange’s breath whistled down her nose as she worked.
“Your face is healing well.” She removed the gauze to trace Levi’s cheekbone with her little finger. His mouth twisted at the sensation. “Sorry that the stitches aren’t neater but I was short on supplies.”
Levi did not speak as Hange discarded the swab into the metal bowl before touching a fresh piece to his ruined eye. The compress felt blissfully cool; Levi closed his other eye in relief.
“We should reach Odiha before long,” Hange assured him. Her expression was hidden beneath her dark fringe and eye patch but Levi could feel her watching him. His suspicion was confirmed as Hange moved backwards, her gaze searching into his own. Levi’s jaw clenched.
“It won’t be long now before you can have your revenge…”
“Do you think I’m sitting here pitying myself?” Even Levi was surprised by the harshness of his tone. Abashed, Hange looked down at her lap, the wad of gauze balled within her fist. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No, but-”
“I don’t know how to make you understand…” Levi glared over her bowed head, towards the cabin door. “…what it is to lose what I’ve lost. I’m a strong, skilled, ruthless cut-throat of a man-” He stopped, neck flexing as he swallowed. “-trapped inside the body of a weak, injured bastard that I don’t like or recognise.”
“Levi-”
“There’s no guarantee that I’ll be fit to fight when the time comes,” he continued hoarsely, “I can’t stand this. I can’t keep sitting on the sidelines while you -” Their eyes met. Levi quickly glanced away as though furious with her. “- all of you - put yourselves in danger.”
Hange dropped the gauze into the bowl and rested her elbows on her knees. To Levi’s astonishment she chuckled lightly to herself.
“But this is exactly what Shadis and Magarth gave their lives for. They died so that we could have a shot at saving the lives of people whose names we don’t even know.” Hange lifted her head. She reached out, almost as though to take his hand, but stopped short. The cuff of her white shirt brushed against Levi’s leg.
“And I believe we’ll do it.”
There it was; the electric glint once again sparked in her brown eye. Levi marvelled at Hange’s wide smile; at the vitality of her flushed cheeks. It was a look of pure daring; an expression of infectious enthusiasm; one he had not seen for some years past.
“Besides, someone up there must be on our side if they’ve allowed the two of us to come this far!” Hange gave a comical, reverent nod toward the cabin’s ceiling.
“Never thought you’d be taken in by all that Wallist shit,” Levi cracked dryly, “must be getting philosophical in your old age.”
Hange sighed with amusement as she lifted a clean piece of gauze.
“You know it’s because of you.” Levi’s tone was accusatory as stared hard at the space behind Hange’s ear. “You’re the only reason why we’re both still here.”
Her face was dizzyingly close to his own. Levi felt her cool breath on his skin. One agonising moment passed after another. Hange took the gauze away; dabbed again at the wound; held it for another moment. Levi’s muscles tensed as he stilled his own breathing.
As she turned her head, Hange’s nose grazed his cheek. The skin along Levi’s cheekbone warmed. Lightly, she traced the stitch upon Levi’s lower lip with her thumb. He moved at her touch, his eye finally meeting her own.
Hange’s thumb stroked his lip; her fingers caressing his cheek. Levi did not protest as she tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth. Slowly, she drew back to chance a look at him. The question hung in the air between them. With a soundless gasp, Levi gave in. Their kisses were silent, swift. Hange’s lips barely brushed against his, with movements so careful it was as though Levi was made of glass.
“Hange,” he whispered. But Hange was not looking at him. Her warm forehead was pressed to his.
“Hange… we can’t.”
Levi could feel her breath, quick and sharp, clouding him; pulling him in.
“You’re trying to run again…”
At this, Hange’s eye flashed open. She studied him as though seeing Levi for the first time. Then, with a barely discernible sigh, she sat back. Hange’s knuckles were pressed to her lips; to where he had freely touched her seconds before. The fleeting relief that had kindled between them had died down to mere embers. There would be no way back; just the ashes of that night and the ghostly memory of her kiss. Levi’s chest was heaving. He had to shake the thought from his mind; tear his gaze away from her mouth.
But Hange was watching the horizon darken beyond the porthole.
“Just one more day at sea… then it’ll be over before we know it.” She wasn’t smiling this time. Levi could not be sure that she was even speaking to him. Despite the assurance of her words, Levi sensed the heaviness that lay within them. Their slow march towards darkness would continue despite their hidden fears and desires. It was no use, this wanting. But if Levi had been a Wallist or a man who believed in prayer, he might have asked.
For just one more sun.
Image reposted with permission from the very talented theyslangastheyslew (Tumblr)