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She was messy hair tied into an unruly ponytail, thick-rimmed glasses with dirty lenses, sleepless nights and inky hands, rare plant samples in labeled jars, wrinkled clothes, the smell of parchment and the dampness of earth after rain.
He was cold, expressionless dark eyes, short, sharp remarks, the glint of small knives neatly placed in a drawer, the smell of soap, lemon and sage, the bloody patches of his former comrades, packets of warm black tea and the deep and terrible darkness of the underground.
Unimaginably, improbably, irrevocably their lives collided.
He softly brushed her messy hair, cleaned her thick-rimmed glasses till the lenses sparkled, stayed with her through sleepless nights to hold inky hands, labeled her rare plant samples, ironed her wrinkled clothes all the while moaning about his untidy friend, breathed in her smell of parchment before declaring she needed a bath and he was the wordless rain that always made her better and washed away her pain.
She made his expressionless eyes, wordlessly smile sometimes, knew that he wanted to express much more than his short, sharp remarks, prayed he would never have to use his small knives, felt at home by his smell of soap, lemon and sage, reminded him of how loved his former comrades were and that it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t save them, made him warm black tea when he was in need of comfort and she was the one who filled his darkness with her unfaltering light.
He was Levi. She was Hanji. Each of them so utterly different… But maybe that’s why they were so perfect for each other.