Work Text:
Rain hammered against the apartment windows hard enough to sound like static.
Levi barely noticed it anymore.
He sat hunched over his laptop at the tiny kitchen table, shoulders stiff from twelve straight hours of editing someone else’s terrible manuscript. The cursor blinked accusingly at the bottom of the page while cold coffee sat untouched near his elbow.
Three more chapters. Then he still had an article draft due by morning.
The apartment light above him flickered once.
Levi glared at it instinctively. “Do that again and I’ll kill you myself.”
From the couch, Mikasa looked up from her homework. “I don’t think threatening the lightbulb helps.”
“It knows what it did.”
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she ducked her head again. Levi watched it disappear almost immediately.
That was usually how it went lately.
Small moments. Brief ones.
Mikasa had grown quieter over the past few years, though maybe that was his fault. Children adapted to the atmosphere around them, and Levi knew exactly what kind of atmosphere he’d created.
The apartment wasn’t terrible, but it was cramped enough that every sound carried. Their heater rattled constantly, even when it wasn’t on. The kitchen tiles cracked near the sink. One cabinet door hung slightly crooked because Levi kept forgetting to fix it.
Or maybe he just didn’t have the energy.
“Mikasa,” he said without looking away from the screen, “did you eat?”
“Yes.”
“What did you eat?”
“...Food.”
Levi finally looked up. Mikasa stared at him with complete seriousness.
He sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“You taught me that.”
“Unfortunately.”
She smiled again, smaller this time, and something in Levi’s chest eased despite himself.
Then a loud crash echoed through the hallway outside.
Levi froze.
Another crash followed, accompanied by a muffled, “Shit-- okay, no, that’s fine--”
Mikasa blinked toward the door.
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “New neighbor.”
“How do you know?”
“Because nobody else on this floor has enough energy to make that much noise.”
Right on cue, something heavy slammed into the wall hard enough to shake one of their cabinets.
Levi stood immediately.
The cabinet door finally gave up entirely and swung loose on one hinge.
Levi stared at it, then toward the ceiling like he was asking the universe for strength. “I’m going to kill this idiot.”
Mikasa hid a laugh behind her sleeve.
Levi marched toward the front door, already irritated enough to feel it behind his eyes. He yanked it open just as another box scraped loudly across the hallway floor.
A stranger stood in the middle of the corridor surrounded by cardboard boxes, mismatched bags, and what looked like an entire dismantled bookshelf.
He was taller than Levi expected with dark hair tied messily back, hoodie sleeves shoved to his elbows. There was dust smeared across one cheek like he’d been fighting with furniture for hours.
Bright green eyes snapped up immediately.
“Oh-- hey.”
Too cheerful.
Levi disliked him instantly.
“You’re shaking the walls.”
The stranger blinked once, then grinned. “Yeah, sorry about that. The elevator died halfway up so I had to carry everything.” He struck out a hand casually. “I’m Eren. Just moved in.”
Levi looked at the offered hand like it had personally offended him. “...Congratulations.”
Eren’s grin twitched but didn’t disappear. “You live next door?”
“No, I haunt the building recreationally.”
Behind Levi, Mikasa made a quiet choking sound that was definitely suppressed laughter.
Eren leaned slightly to look past him, noticing her for the first time. “Oh, hey.”
Mikasa straightened instinctively. “Hello.”
Levi immediately shifted sideways enough to block most of the doorway.
Eren noticed that too. Something subtle changed in his expression then, not offense exactly, but awareness.
Levi knew the look. People usually got it quickly around him.
Keep your distance.
“Sorry again about the noise,” Eren said. “I’ll try not to destroy the building before midnight.”
“You’re optimistic assuming it’ll survive that long.”
Eren laughed. An actual laugh, like Levi was funny.
Levi frowned harder at him before shutting the door without another word.
The second it clicked closed, Mikasa said quietly. “He seems nice.”
“He seems loud.”
“He apologized.”
“He caused the problem first.”
“You’re grumpy.”
“I’m realistic.”
Mikasa returned to her homework with suspiciously calm silence, which Levi had learned usually meant she disagreed with him completely.
From next door came another crash followed by, “WHY DO I OWN SO MANY BOOKS?”
Levi closed his eyes. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
It got worse over the next week.
Eren existed at full volume.
He sang while taking trash out. He greeted everyone in the hallway. He somehow managed to hold entire conversations while carrying groceries, unlocking doors, and nearly dropping things at the same time.
Levi couldn’t understand how one person generated that much presence.
Worse, Mikasa liked him.
Levi came home Thursday evening to find Eren sitting cross-legged outside their apartment door holding a plastic grocery bag. Mikasa sat beside him.
“...What,” Levi said flatly.
Mikasa looked up immediately. “You’re late.”
“I’m aware.”
Eren lifted the grocery bag slightly. “Your sister saved me from buying terrible instant ramen.”
“It was painful to watch,” Mikasa agreed.
Levi stared between them slowly. “How long have you been sitting on the floor together?”
Eren shrugged. “Like twenty minutes?”
Levi gave Mikasa a look. “You let a stranger sit on the floor with you for twenty minutes?”
She shrugged. “I offered him a better ramen brand.”
“That wasn’t the question,” Levi sighed.
Mikasa stood, brushing off her jeans. “He walked me home because it was raining.”
Levi’s attention snapped sharply toward Eren.
“I told her she didn’t have to walk alone,” Eren said immediately, casual but careful now. “That’s all.”
Levi hated how reasonable that sounded.
“I can walk home alone,” Mikasa said.
“I know,” Levi answered quietly.
That was the problem. She had to do too many things alone already.
Levi unlocked the apartment door with more force than necessary. “Inside.”
Mikasa obeyed easily, though she paused before entering. “Goodnight, Eren.”
Eren smiled automatically. “Night, Mikasa.”
Levi started shutting the door.
“Hey,” Eren said suddenly.
Levi stopped with visible reluctance.
Eren held out a folded paper. “You dropped this earlier.”
Levi frowned before taking it. It was one of his article drafts covered in editing notes.
His stomach tightened instantly. “You read this?”
“Not really,” Eren said quickly. “Just enough to see your name.”
Levi glanced down at the page. The byline had nothing but his name, Levi Ackerman.
The article was unfinished. Messy. Personal in ways he usually avoided.
“You’re a journalist?” Eren asked.
“Freelance,” Levi said.
“That’s kind of cool,” Eren murmured.
“It pays the rent.”
Eren studied him for a second, his expression unreadable now. Then he smiled again, softer this time. “Well, your writing’s good from what I accidentally read before realizing I was invading your privacy.”
Levi stared at him suspiciously. Most people reacted strangely once they learned what he did for work. Either fake admiration or immediate disinterest once they realized his job didn’t fit the image they had already created in their heads. Most people wouldn’t expect someone like Levi to be a writer.
Eren sounded sincere, which somehow felt worse.
Levi folded the paper one. “Don’t read things that aren’t yours.”
“Got it.”
The door closed and Levi leaned against it for a moment afterward.
From the kitchen, Mikasa asked casually, “So you don’t hate him anymore?”
“I never hated him.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow at him. “You called him a public nuisance yesterday.”
“He is,” Levi grumbled.
“But not a bad person.”
Levi looked toward the kitchen where Mikasa was unpacking groceries with quiet efficiency.
There was something lighter about her lately. He’d noticed it more and more, the way she lingered less at school because someone walked home with her, the way she talked slightly more at dinner, the way she looked less alone, things she hadn’t done since their parents died.
Levi looked back at the door.
Temporary, he thought immediately.
People like Eren were always temporary.
Too bright, too restless, too alive to stay in one place long.
Levi knew better than to trust things that arrived suddenly.
Especially warmth.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
By the middle of November, Eren had somehow become part of the apartment.
Levi still wasn’t entirely sure when it happened.
Maybe it started with the coffee.
Eren showed up one morning while Levi was leaving for work, hair still damp from a shower and holding two paper cups.
“You look dead,” he said by way of greeting.
Levi took the coffee automatically before his brain caught up enough to object. “...Thanks.”
Eren blinked at him dramatically. “Holy shit. You can say thank you.”
“Don’t make this a recurring conversation.”
“Too late. I’m framing this moment.”
Levi shut the apartment door in his face.
But he still drank the coffee on the train.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Then came the cabinet.
Levi walked into the kitchen one evening to find Eren crouched on the counter with a screwdriver between his teeth while Mikasa held the cabinet door steady.
Levi stopped dead. “...Why are you in my kitchen?”
Eren pulled the screwdriver from his mouth. “Your cabinet sucks.”
“It was functional.”
“It was hanging on by one screw and spite.”
Mikasa nodded solemnly. “Mostly spite.”
Levi stared at both of them.
The cabinet did look better.
Eren hopped down from the counter easily. “There. Fixed.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Levi muttered.
“You also didn’t stop me.”
“I wasn’t here.”
“Exactly.”
Levi hated that he couldn’t argue with that logic.
Eren grinned like he’d won something.
Levi disliked how often that expression lingered in his head afterward.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The apartment changed in small ways after that.
Eren kept showing up.
Sometimes he brought groceries because something had been on sale. Sometimes he appeared with takeout containers balanced in his arms after Levi worked late.
Sometimes he simply knocked on the door and said, “Mikasa told me neither of you have eaten actual food today, so move.”
And somehow Levi listened, not because Eren ordered him around, but because he sounded like he cared.
That was harder to resist.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
“You’re staring again.”
Levi looked up sharply from his laptop. Across the kitchen table, Eren rested his chin in one hand while Mikasa worked through math homework beside him.
“I’m working, not staring,” Levi argued.
“You absolutely are.”
“Stop distracting me.”
“I’ve been quiet for fifteen whole minutes.”
“Oh goodie. You’re capable of silence.”
Eren looked delighted by the sarcastic comment.
Mikasa didn’t even glance up anymore when they argued. That was the concerning part.
She’d adapted to Eren’s presence frighteningly quickly.
Now she automatically set out three plates during dinner. Three cups for tea. Three portions, like Eren belonged there.
Levi noticed every single time. And every single time, something uncomfortable tightened in his chest, because Mikasa looked happy. Not just polite, happy.
The kind of happiness that settled carefully into a person after being missing for too long.
Levi didn’t know what to do with that.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
One Friday night, Levi stumbled through the front door at nearly midnight.
His vision blurred faintly around the edges from too many deadlines and not nearly enough sleep.
The article he’d spent three days on had been rejected twice. His editor wanted revisions. The publishing house needed overnight proofreading done by morning.
Everything hurt.
The apartment lights were still on.
Levi frowned immediately. “Mikasa?”
“In here,” she called from the living room.
Levi stepped inside and stopped immediately.
Eren lay sprawled across their couch asleep, one arm hanging off the side. An action movie played quietly on the television while Mikasa sat on the floor wrapped in a blanket reading a book.
She looked up immediately.
“You’re late.”
“I can tell time, thank you.”
“You forgot dinner again.”
Levi opened his mouth to deny it before realizing he genuinely couldn’t remember if he’d eaten.
Mikasa sighed softly in the way only disappointed younger sisters could. “There’s food in the kitchen.”
Levi rubbed tiredly at his face. “You should be asleep.”
“You should too.”
Fair.
Levi glanced toward the couch again. Eren slept deeply, completely unbothered by the terrible angle of his neck. “How long has he been here?”
“Since six,” Mikasa replied with a shrug.
“...Why?”
“We watched movies.”
“Plural?”
“He kept picking bad ones.”
Without opening his eyes, Eren mumbled, “Your standards are elitist.”
Levi startled slightly.
Eren cracked one eye open sleepily. “You’re loud when you’re tired,” he mumbled.
Levi stared at him. “You’re in my apartment.”
“And yet somehow you’re still the scary one here.”
Mikasa snorted quietly.
Levi ignored both of them and headed for the kitchen. There was food waiting on the stove, still warm.
He stopped and for a long moment, he simply stared at it.
Mikasa could cook, but she despised doing it, which meant Eren had remembered he’d come home late. Eren had expected him back.
The realization hit harder than it should have.
Levi leaned one hand against the counter slowly.
Dangerous, he thought immediately.
This was dangerous.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The fever hit three days later.
Levi woke before dawn shivering violently beneath tangled blankets. His throat burned. Every joint ached. His head pounded hard enough to make light painful.
He sat up anyway.
Deadlines didn’t disappear because he felt like dying.
By the time Mikasa left for school, Levi had already forced himself through half an article and two cups of coffee that tasted like ash.
“You’re sick,” Mikasa said from the doorway.
“I’m working.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Levi waved her off tiredly. “Go to school.”
She hesitated.
Levi kept his eyes fixed on the laptop screen until he heard the apartment door close.
Only then did he let his shoulders sag.
The cursor blurred and words swam strangely together. He pressed fingers hard against his temple and kept typing anyway.
A knock sounded at the door sometime later.
Levi ignored it.
Another knock.
Then, “Mikasa, I know you’re home because your shoes are--”
There was a pause.
“...Levi?”
Damn.
Levi stood too quickly and immediately regretted it as dizziness crashed through him. He caught himself against the wall just before the door opened.
Eren froze mid-step. For once, he wasn’t smiling as he said, “You look awful.”
Levi straightened immediately out of reflex. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
“I said I’m--”
Eren’s expression flatterend into immediate concern. “You have a fever.”
“I have work.”
“You’re hallucinating if you think those are not mutually exclusive.”
Levi tried stepping past him toward the kitchen and nearly lost his balance.
Eren caught his arm instantly. The contact burned.
Levi jerked away like he’d been shocked.
“I said I don’t--”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
Levi hated how calm Eren sounded. No pity. No dramatics. Just certainty.
Eren glanced toward the laptop still open on the kitchen table, then back at Levi. “When’s the last time you really slept?”
Levi didn’t answer. That alone was apparently enough.
Eren exhaled slowly through his nose before steering Levi firmly toward the couch. “Sit down.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Congratulations. Sit down.”
Levi should’ve argued more. Instead, exhaustion dragged suddenly at every limb at once. He sat because fighting felt impossible.
Eren disappeared briefly into the kitchen and Levi could hear cabinets opening and water running.
“What are you doing?” Levi muttered.
“Taking care of the idiot who thinks organ failure is a personality trait.”
Levi closed his eyes. A cool hand touched his forehead a moment later. The gentleness of it startled him more than the contact itself.
Eren frowned immediately. “Jesus, Levi.”
Nobody said his name like that, softly, like it mattered.
Levi opened his eyes slowly. Eren sat crouched in front of him now, sleeves pushed up again, concern completely undisguised across his face. “You should’ve called someone.”
“There’s nobody to call.” The words slipped out before Levi could stop them.
Silence followed instantly.
Something shifted in Eren’s expression then, not pity, something quieter. Sadness, maybe. Understanding.
“No,” Eren said carefully. “There is now.”
Levi looked away first, because for one terrifying second, he wanted to believe him.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
December arrived quietly.
The first snow came overnight, frosting the apartment windows in pale white patterns by morning. Mikasa stood by the glass before school watching the street below while Levi packed her lunch beside her.
“It’s sticking,” she said softly.
“Hm.”
“You said it wouldn’t.”
“I was wrong once. Don’t get used to it.”
Mikasa smiled faintly.
Levi handed her the lunch container automatically, already reaching for his coffee afterward. Their routines had become muscle memory over the years. Predictable. Safe.
And lately, more crowded.
A knock sounded at the door exactly three seconds later.
Mikasa moved before Levi could. Eren stood outside wearing a dark coat dusted with snow, two paper bags balanced in his arms. “I brought breakfast,” he announced.
Levi narrowed his eyes immediately. “Why.”
“Because your sister told me you were trying to survive on coffee again.”
“Mikasa.”
“She was worried,” Eren said before Mikasa could answer. “Which means I’m legally allowed to intervene.”
“That’s not a law.”
“Yeah, but morally I’m correct.”
He brushed past Levi into the apartment like he belonged there. That should not have stopped feeling dangerous by now. It did anyway.
Eren unpacked breakfast sandwiches onto the kitchen counter while talking to Mikasa about a history test she apparently had later that day.
Levi leaned against the sink silently watching them.
Mikasa looked relaxed. Not careful. Not quietly observant in the way she usually was around other people. Relaxed.
She laughed at something Eren said, quick and unguarded, and Levi felt the familiar ache twist somewhere beneath his ribs, because he couldn’t remember the last time their apartment sounded like this before Eren.
Warm. Alive.
Temporary, a voice in his head reminded him immediately.
Levi crushed the thought down hard enough to make his jaw tense.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Three nights later, Levi came home early for once.
The publishing office had closed unexpectedly due to weather, and one of his article deadlines had been pushed back another week. It should have felt like relief.
Instead, the silence in the hallway unsettled him immediately.
Their apartment door was slightly open. Levi’s expression sharpened instantly.
He stepped inside quietly. Voices drifted from the kitchen.
“…I’m just saying,” Eren was saying, “if I take the job, it’s only six months.”
Levi stopped cold.
Mikasa sat at the kitchen table while Eren leaned against the counter nursing a mug of tea. Neither of them had noticed him yet.
“What kind of job?” Mikasa asked.
“A travel teaching thing. One of my old professors recommended me for it.” Eren shrugged one shoulder. “A bunch of different cities. Interviews. Culture pieces. Stuff like that.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah,” Eren admitted quietly. “It does.”
Something sharp lodged beneath Levi’s ribs.
Six months.
Different cities.
Of course.
Of course.
People like Eren never stayed.
Levi should’ve remembered that sooner.
Mikasa looked thoughtful. “Would you come back?”
Eren smiled slightly into his tea. “I don’t know.”
Levi turned and walked out before either of them noticed him.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
After that, everything became unbearable.
Not because Eren changed. Because Levi did.
Every laugh from the next room sounded temporary now. Every casual touch. Every dinner together. Every moment Mikasa smiled at her phone because Eren texted her something stupid.
Levi watched it all with growing dread.
Attachment was dangerous enough. False permanence was worse. He knew exactly what happened when people started depending on someone who left.
He’d spent years helping Mikasa survive the aftermath of losing everyone else.
He would not let this happen again.
Even if it meant becoming the villain himself.
Especially then.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Eren noticed first. Of course he did.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Levi didn’t look up from his laptop. “I’m working.”
“You’ve answered every question I’ve asked this week with one word.”
“That sounds efficient.”
Eren stared at him from across the kitchen. The apartment suddenly felt too small. Mikasa had already gone to bed, leaving the two of them alone in heavy midnight silence.
“You’re angry about something,” Eren said carefully.
“I’m tired.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Levi shut his laptop sharply. “Don’t psychoanalyze me in my own apartment.”
Eren blinked. There it was. The first real crack.
Levi stood immediately. “You should go home.”
Eren frowned slowly. “Levi--”
“It’s late.”
“You’ve never cared before.”
“Well, I do now.”
The words landed harder than Levi intended. Eren’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
Hurt.
Levi looked away first.
“Okay,” Eren said quietly after a moment.
He left without another argument.
That somehow made it worse.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The distance grew after that.
Levi stopped opening the door when Eren knocked. Stopped accepting food. Stopped lingering in conversations.
When Mikasa invited Eren over one evening, Levi interrupted before Eren could answer. “He’s probably busy.”
Mikasa looked at him sharply. Eren just stared. “…Right,” he said slowly. “Busy.”
Levi ignored the way guilt curled immediately in his stomach.
This was necessary.
Temporary pain. Long-term survival.
That’s how these things worked.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Mikasa confronted him exactly eight days later.
“You’re being cruel.”
Levi didn’t look up from the article draft spread across the table. “I’m being realistic.”
“You stopped speaking to him.”
“I speak to him.”
“You barely tolerate him.”
Levi’s jaw tightened. Mikasa rarely pushed like this. Which meant she was genuinely upset.
“He was part of this family,” she said quietly.
The word hit Levi like a physical blow.
Family.
Dangerous word.
“He’s our neighbor,” Levi answered flatly.
Mikasa stared at him in disbelief. “No,” she said softly. “He stopped being just that a long time ago.”
Levi forced himself back to the article in front of him. “If he leaves--”
“He hasn’t left.”
“He will.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know people.”
Mikasa’s expression changed then. Not angry anymore. Sad. “You’re scared.”
Levi went completely still. “Mikasa--”
“You think if you push him away first, it’ll hurt less later.”
“That’s enough.”
“But it won’t,” she said, voice trembling slightly now. “It just hurts now instead.”
Silence swallowed the kitchen.
Levi stared at the page in front of him without seeing a single word.
Mikasa stood slowly. “I liked seeing you happy,” she whispered.
Then she walked quietly back to her room.
Levi remained motionless long after her door closed.
Because that was the worst part.
He had been happy.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The confrontation finally happened in the hallway. Naturally.
Levi was unlocking the apartment door after work when another door slammed open behind him.
“Are you seriously going to keep doing this?”
Levi closed his eyes briefly.
Eren stood halfway down the hallway wearing a dark hoodie and fury sharp across every line of his face.
Levi turned slowly. “Doing what.”
“Pretending I did something wrong.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then why are you acting like you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Levi unlocked the apartment door harder than necessary.
Eren stepped closer immediately. “No. Don’t walk away this time.”
Levi’s patience snapped thin. “You want honesty? Fine.” He turned sharply. “You’re leaving anyway.”
Silence.
Snow drifted quietly beyond the stairwell window.
Eren stared at him. “What?”
“I heard you talking about the travel job.”
Understanding flickered across Eren’s face. Then disbelief. “That’s what this is about?”
Levi laughed once without humor. “People like you don’t stay anywhere.”
“People like me?”
“Restless. Temporary. Always halfway out the door.”
Eren looked genuinely angry now. “You decided all that without talking to me?”
Levi folded his arms tightly. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does!”
His voice echoed down the hallway. Levi flinched almost imperceptibly.
Eren dragged a hand through his hair harshly. “You know what the worst part is?” he said. “I was trying to figure out how to stay.”
Levi froze. Eren laughed bitterly. “I wanted the job because it paid well. Because it could’ve helped.” He gestured helplessly toward Levi’s apartment. “Toward this. Toward you.”
Levi’s chest tightened painfully. “But you already decided I was leaving before I ever got the chance to stay.”
The hallway felt suddenly airless. Levi looked away. Because Eren sounded hurt. Really hurt. And Levi didn’t know how to survive being the reason for it.
“You don’t understand,” Levi said quietly.
“Then explain it to me.”
Levi’s throat tightened. The words felt old. Rusted. Buried deep enough to hurt pulling free. “You get attached to people,” he said finally. “And then one day they leave. Or disappear. Or die. And you’re the one left cleaning up what’s left afterward.”
Eren’s anger faded slowly into something else. Understanding.
God, Levi hated that too.
“You think pushing me away protects Mikasa.”
Levi said nothing.
“That’s why you’re doing this?”
“She already lost enough.”
“And what about you?”
Levi’s expression shuttered immediately. “That’s irrelevant.”
“Bullshit.”
Eren stepped closer. Close enough now that Levi could see exhaustion beneath his anger. “You know what I think?” Eren said quietly. “I think you decided you’d survive alone so long ago that you don’t know how to let anybody stay even when they want to.”
That was the last thing he said before he went inside his own apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Levi’s chest hurt. Actually hurt. Because some part of him knew Eren was right. And that terrified him more than anything else.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The hallway confrontation should have changed something immediately.
It didn’t.
Levi still went inside alone afterward. Still closed the apartment door. Still leaned against it in silence while his chest ached hard enough to make breathing difficult.
Mikasa looked up from the couch when he entered. Her eyes flicked once toward the hallway behind him. Then back to Levi. “You talked to him.”
Levi removed his shoes carefully. “Unfortunately.”
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
Levi moved toward the kitchen before she could say anything else. He didn’t know how to explain what was happening inside his head because it sounded irrational even to him.
Eren wanted to stay. That should have solved everything.
Instead, Levi kept thinking, For how long?
A month?
A year?
Until something better came along?
Hope felt dangerous after enough years without it.
The apartment settled into quiet around them. Finally, Mikasa spoke softly from the living room. “You know,” she said, “you never asked him not to go.”
Levi stopped. His hand tightened slightly around the edge of the counter. Because she was right. He hadn’t. He’d simply assumed leaving was inevitable. Like always.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The next week was strange. Not distant exactly. But cautious.
Eren still came by sometimes.
Levi stopped pretending not to answer the door. That alone felt significant.
Conversations remained shorter than before, edged with uncertainty neither of them quite knew how to navigate yet.
But Eren stayed.
That was the part Levi noticed most.
He stayed. Even after the argument. Even after the coldness. Even after Levi gave him every reason to walk away.
He still knocked on their door Thursday evening carrying takeout containers.
“I come bearing peace offerings,” he announced.
Levi eyed him suspiciously. “That smells terrible.”
“You say that every time.”
“And every time I’m right.”
Eren grinned slightly.
It wasn’t as easy as before. But it was real.
Mikasa appeared from the hallway almost immediately. “Is that curry?”
“Yes.”
“You can stay forever.”
“Traitor,” Levi muttered.
Mikasa ignored him.
Eren laughed quietly under his breath.
The sound settled warmly somewhere beneath Levi’s ribs before he could stop it.
Dangerous.
Still dangerous.
But maybe not fatal.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Slowly, things returned.
Not all at once.
In pieces. Eren falling asleep on their couch again while reading article drafts beside Levi. Levi automatically making tea for three people instead of two. Mikasa texting Eren from the grocery store asking what snacks he wanted.
Small things. Domestic things. The kind that mattered more than dramatic declarations ever could.
One snowy evening, Levi emerged from the shower to find Eren sitting at the kitchen table with one of Levi’s unfinished manuscripts spread open in front of him.
Levi stopped immediately. “You’re reading my work again.”
Eren looked up without guilt. “You left it out.”
“That doesn’t make it public property.”
“You write sad endings.”
Levi paused. “…What?”
Eren tapped the manuscript lightly. “Your characters always leave each other before they can get left first.”
Silence stretched.
Levi stared at him carefully. “Did you analyze my trauma through fiction?”
“I analyzed your trauma through everything.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Levi should’ve been irritated. Instead, something dangerously close to affection twisted painfully in his chest.
Eren held the pages out toward him. “The ending sucks.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me.”
“You made them miserable for three hundred pages and then gave up before fixing it.”
“Not everything gets fixed.”
Eren looked at him for a long moment. Then said quietly, “Maybe not. But some things do.”
Levi couldn’t answer. Because suddenly the apartment felt too warm. Too close.
Eren stood slowly from the table. Neither of them moved away. Levi became acutely aware of everything at once, the steam still clinging faintly to his skin, the snow outside, the soft lamp light above the stove, and Eren standing close enough that Levi could see the faint scar beneath his chin.
“You know,” Eren said softly, “most people would just admit they missed me.”
Levi scoffed weakly. “Don’t push your luck.”
“But you did.”
Levi looked down.
That was answer enough.
The silence between them shifted carefully. Not awkward. Not uncertain. Just full.
Eren reached out first. Slowly enough for Levi to pull away if he wanted. His fingers brushed lightly against Levi’s wrist. Gentle. Questioning.
Levi stared at the contact for one long second before turning his hand slightly, allowing it. Eren exhaled softly like relief. And somehow that affected Levi more than the touch itself.
“You’re terrifyingly bad at feelings,” Eren murmured.
“I’m excellent at feelings. I feel annoyed constantly.”
Eren laughed quietly. Then, very carefully, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Levi’s forehead. Small. Warm. Gone almost immediately.
Levi froze.
Eren immediately looked alarmed. “Was that okay?”
Levi stared at him blankly for several seconds.
Then, “…Again.”
Eren blinked once before smiling slowly.
This time when he kissed Levi, it landed softer. Closer to the corner of his mouth.
Levi’s fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of Eren’s sleeve.
Not holding tightly.
Just enough to keep him there.
For once, Eren didn’t tease him about it.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The travel job disappeared quietly after that.
Levi noticed because Eren stopped taking phone calls out in the hallway.
One night while washing dishes, Levi finally asked, “What happened to the position?”
Eren dried a plate beside him. “I turned it down.”
Levi’s hands stilled beneath the water. “You wanted it.”
“I wanted a lot of things.”
“That’s stupid.”
Eren snorted. “Wow. Romantic.”
Levi shut off the faucet harder than necessary. “I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Eren set the plate down carefully. “You wanna know the truth?”
Levi didn’t answer, but Eren continued anyway. “I think… before this place, I moved around because it was easier.” He leaned against the counter quietly. “Nothing hurt if I never stayed anywhere long enough to care about it.”
Levi looked at him sharply. Eren smiled faintly. “Guess we’re both kind of idiots.”
Something inside Levi softened painfully at that.
Because maybe they were.
Two people so used to expecting loss that neither knew what to do with being wanted.
Levi dried his hands slowly. Then said the thing that had lived inside him for weeks now. “I stopped believing in people staying a long time ago.”
The admission came out rougher than intended. Honest in a way Levi rarely allowed himself to be.
Eren’s expression changed immediately. No teasing. No easy grin. Just warmth.
He stepped closer carefully. “You don’t have to believe it all at once,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep proving it.”
Levi looked at him for a long moment. And for the first time, the possibility of being loved didn’t feel terrifying. Just fragile. Real. Worth protecting.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Winter settled fully around the city after that. The apartment remained small. The heater still rattled. Levi still worked too much.
But something fundamental had changed anyway.
One evening, Levi sat at the kitchen table editing an article while Eren argued with Mikasa over whether pineapple belonged on pizza.
“It objectively does,” Eren insisted.
“You’re objectively wrong,” Levi muttered without looking up.
“See?” Mikasa said. “Even Levi agrees with me.”
“He always agrees with you. I’m being bullied in this household.”
“You live here voluntarily,” Levi replied.
Eren smiled softly at him over the edge of his coffee cup, like he still couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to.
Later that night, Mikasa fell asleep curled up on the couch with a textbook half-open against her chest. Eren carefully lifted the book away while Levi draped a blanket over her. Their hands brushed briefly in the process. Neither pulled away.
The apartment lights glowed gold against the dark winter windows. Warm. Lived in. Home.
Levi stood there quietly for a moment looking at the two people beside him and realized something strange.
For years, survival had been the only thing he knew how to build.
But this was something gentler.
Something frighteningly hopeful.
A life, maybe.
And for the first time in a very long time, Levi wanted to believe it could last.