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stilemawillow · 2 years

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MTIJ | Ch.18 So It’s Schizophrenia, Not Stupidity?

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader (eren jaeger x reader)

word count: 10.6k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

Ugh. Ringing. Ed Sheeran singing Galway Girl. Annie. I rolled over and just barely reached for my nightstand. My phone wasn’t there but the song kept playing, so I reached for the ground with a grumble, thinking myself dumb for pushing my phone off the nightstand and creating trouble for myself in the morning. I didn’t remember putting my phone in my jeans but I was holding them. Strange. My brows furrowed briefly as I very slowly realised I didn’t remember getting into my bed last night either. My eyes shot open. This wasn’t my room. Oh, fuck. I took the phone from my jeans and pressed the green button, then somebody’s elbow touched my back and I shot out of the bed with the speed of light, rushing for the nearest door I could see without even checking to see who the person was. I was in a bathroom with no memories, a bad headache and a pretty panicked mind.

“Ann? What is it?” I put the phone to my ear and just speaking was terrible – my mouth was dry and my own voice was making my temples pulsate harder. No chance of me remembering what the hell had happened yesterday. I knew I’d gone dancing at some point. And that was it. Maybe I was still at Hitch’s mansion, if the seemingly expensive tiles and the gold-encrusted bathtub in the corner were anything to go by. The place stank of vomit and mint. Had somebody puked here? I opened the window with a scrunched-up nose and listened to my best friend panic.

“(Y/N), where the fuck are you? Did you even go home last night?” This wasn’t my blue-tiled bathroom, so no. Not the first time I’d blacked out while drinking, still, it reminded me of how unpleasant the experience was. This would be it if one day I became demented. I felt lost and in terrible shape and the wind entering through the window made my legs cover in goosebumps. I told Annie I was still at Hitch’s mansion, to which she took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. Meanwhile, it hit me that it would be problematic if my nocturnal partner in crime and I were the only people still here – even more if Hitch’s parents came back home. Way more problematic, however, if I got caught going back home by my own parents. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Annie’s question made me sigh as I trudged over to the sink and the shelves next to it.

“Honestly, I remember going to the hot guy on the table to dance.” There were bottles of conditioner, shampoo, body lotion, hair oil and mouthwash on the shelves, right next to a used toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. “Nothing afterwards. But there was somebody in bed with me when I woke up. I’m freaking out, Ann. I didn’t even check if it was a girl or a guy.” Then I saw the containers with medications. Maybe vitamins. I was squinting at the names in search of an Aspirin to help with my headache when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I was cursing, there was drool at the corner of my mouth and my hair was a mess. I looked like I died… like, two days ago. The worst part was the fact my jeans were in the other room and I wasn’t wearing my own shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice hurriedly arrived through the speaker. I could almost picture her frowning down at her lap for a lack of something better to glare at while she panicked. I kept cursing at the dark red shirt – it was way too big. If it belonged to whoever had been in the bed with me, then it was a totally a “he”. I was babbling when Annie cleared her throat angrily. “Be fucking coherent or I can’t help you with this.” But I couldn’t be coherent because I was in my underwear and a man’s shirt and my eyes were bouncing from spot to spot until I put a shaking hand to rub at the back of my head and my hair moved away to let me observe something that made my heart jump to my throat. Oh, no.

“Annie, I think… this is bad. This is very bad. I have a hickey.” I whined in desperation, praying to Jesus but Jesus wasn’t real so he wouldn’t do anything about it. Some ice would’ve done something about it on time. I hated myself for drinking and if I thought I was freaking out a moment ago, now it was the real deal. The dark spot couldn’t have been paint or dirt. I almost wished it was. And all the lame stories that I could’ve hit myself there – well, no, because nobody hit their neck perfectly in the crook for a circular spot to appear. “Shit, shit, fuck. Oh, no, no, no.” I felt like I might cry. It wasn’t only one. Because when my hand tugged on the collar of the red shirt, I saw another bite on my collarbone. I was fucked. And then my eyes widened when it hit me that it was exactly what might have happened for real.

“Calm down.” Annie spoke into the phone slowly but I couldn’t hear her and I was breathing raggedly, clutching the shirt in utter horror and pacing the bathroom as though it would help me turn back time. “Calm down I said!” That stilled me for a moment. She cleared her throat to dissolve the tension and tried to bring logic back to the table. “You don’t remember shit after going to dance. You’re still at the mansion, with somebody in the bed and his shirt on you and you’ve got hickeys. Before you start concluding he popped your cherry, I’ll tell you he probably didn’t.” My brows furrowed as my lips parted in protest and she cut me off before a single sound escaped. “And before you ask why, it’s because you still haven’t started screaming that you’re bleeding.” My mouth clamped shut and the pointed index finger I’d lifted shamefully curled back into my fist. “Now, tell me what’s the shirt. There’s a high chance I remember who wore it.”

“And how the hell would you remember what the whole fucking crowd of boys wore?” I asked shrewdly, making her huff. I didn’t remember anything but I just might if I thought about it really hard for a few days in a row. Or if I was lucky and got flashbacks, which wasn’t too rare but not too regular either. My head was killing me and I neared the window to breathe some fresh air – the sun outside was shining, the birds were singing and the trees were swaying in the wind – what a perfect way to end the week, by panicking about my lost memories and my mysterious hickeys in the bathroom of my arch-enemy’s mansion. This sounded like something out of the dumbest sitcom ever.

“Because I remember the handsome ones who kind of look like Eren and you wouldn’t really go for an ugly one, okay? Now spill.” My best friend’s as-a-matter-of-fact response made my lips purse. She was right that I wouldn’t settle for an ugly guy even if I was drunk. And she was right the handsome ones all looked like Eren in a way. Or sometimes like Levi. On the topic of which, if I’d wound up in bed with a stranger, did that mean he was also around here, maybe in another room waking up next to a half-naked chick? Because he wouldn’t go home without me unless he’d be hammered enough to forget. My brows furrowed and I inspected the shirt but there was nothing much to say about it.

“Dark red button-up. Long sleeves, black seams. Maybe an M, bordering on an L… I can’t be too sure.” It sounded familiar but I didn’t remember anybody in red amongst the crowd. Definitely not the guy who’d caught my eye – he’d been wearing a black T-shirt. My attention to detail always suffered when I drank. “It sounds near impossible for you to remember the one person out of the mass who wore it, though.” I poked fun at Annie’s confidence, making her snort like I was the dumbest person on the planet for that.

“If you used your fucking brain, you’d remember him, too.” Her comment made my brows furrow in confusion. How exactly was I supposed to remember somebody’s shirt when I’d been too drunk to remember anything after drowning the generous gift from my dance partner? Unless she meant to say we’d seen him before that. The gears in my mind were turning – if this was a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears – and then it hit me. The red shirt (because it had been the first time I’d seen him in red) that had surprised me yesterday and almost made me drool. Now at least the thought of him being elsewhere was dismissed because he’d spent the night in bed… with me and I’d spent it in… his shirt. Thinking about it, even that didn’t sound too well. An eloquent “oh” of realisation fell from my lips, then my best friend huffed. “Yeah, dumbo. It’s Ackerman’s shirt. I did see him carrying you off somewhere. When I asked, people told me he’d been looking for the closest bathroom and you’d been green.”

“Ah, well that means the puking here’s been done by me. Makes sense.” My tense shoulders gave a slumped shrug as I glanced at the toilet bowl. Almost thankful I couldn’t remember that right now. Not to mention, twice as thankful at the thought I’d done it like a decent drunk instead of barfing all over somebody. “But the hickeys stay. I mean… who the fuck made those?” The idea of it being my father’s intern didn’t do as much as appear amongst the options – whatever the context, he would never consider me an object of attraction. And, well, I thought differently of him but that didn’t mean I’d act on it, no matter how drunk. Because I had Eren. Except… it hadn’t been exactly like that last night. I shook my head when the possibility tried to crawl inside. No. I wouldn’t throw myself at Levi and even if I did, he’d be strongly opposed to humouring me. Obviously, my best friend agreed.

“Well, we know Ackerman wasn’t drunk enough for that. Which leaves anybody else you might’ve crossed paths with.” Her voice made me nod along even though she couldn’t see me, then I listened to her snort on the other end of the line. “Nonetheless, you managed to prove it would feel fun if you got drunk. Did you have fun?” She was mocking me and I wasn’t about to have any of that right now. I stepped back from the window and back to the sink with the intention to finally act upon finding that Aspirin. I held the phone between my ear and shoulder after pinpointing the container, put the painkiller in my mouth and gulped down some water. I was wiping my mouth when my best friend nudged me through the speaker with a teasing hum.

“I don’t remember shit, Annie, so I can’t say if I had fun. Half my body is killing me. And the mysterious vacuum is still unknown.” I walked to the gold-encrusted tub and slid inside with a tortured sigh, propping my legs over the edge and just barely managing to catch a whiff of cologne from the shirt on me. “I cheated on Eren. This is fucking terrible. Even if he’s been ignoring me so much, I still feel guilty about this.” My heart shrivelled up regretfully just at the thought of it. Asshole-me had been so busy convincing me my boyfriend had cheated on me that I’d gotten drunk and cheated on him. The greatest Uno Reverse card if there ever was one. Still, if Eren had other reasons for avoiding me, it would paint me as the villain. Scratch that. I was the villain, regardless of his actions.

“Not the first time a rough patch of yours has been accompanied by tactful infidelity, you know. Aren’t you used at this point?” Annie’s question made my lips purse as I began chewing on the side of my cheek with a frown. She was right. It wasn’t the first time. But a rough patch or a break or however people might call it never excused throwing yourself at the first person you saw to get your frustrations out on him and get your mind off the boyfriend who made you disgruntled. Well then, I’d done that twice so far. Terrible person by all accounts.

“To the trauma you mean? I don’t even want to remember that fluke.” I huffed spitefully, knowing very well the ugly wrinkle that appeared between my brows each and every time I thought back on that one mistake was there now. I rubbed my temple with my free hand and gave a weak wail. “God, I’m a shit person. You should become a lawyer, Ann, with how much you find all kinds of ways to justify my nasty behaviour.” Sure, best friends defended each other even when they knew their actions were wrong. We were best friends, but Annie had spent too much time building cases for me, if only to make me feel better. That still didn’t mean I was in the right. Naturally, realising that felt terrible.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for? Look, don’t panic too much. It was a mistake, you haven’t done anything too serious with the guy, you don’t plan on breaking up with Jaeger and finding yourself another love and, honestly, he’s just digging himself a grave at this point, so I won’t blame you if you do it.” I rested my head against the back of the tub and listened to her arguments. Reasonable enough. It didn’t make me feel better but at least she was being a bit objective about it. “In any case, you’re both doing unreasonable shit right now, so don’t sweat it and buy a new concealer or something.” I cringed at the thought of having to hide the hickeys from everybody. A dreadful clump got stuck at the back of my throat when I wondered if they’d disappear by the time my graduation ceremony rolled in. Then Annie brought me back to reality with an urgently cold voice. “On the topic of which, it’s like 8 a.m. I remember your parents wake up around nine on weekends. So you better get your ass home.”

“Do you want to come over for breakfast?” I asked whilst getting out of the bathtub and biting back a hiss when a jab of pain pierced my ankle. “Actually, where are you?” In my panic I hadn’t had the time to consider she wasn’t at the mansion herself, then she quickly explained she’d left with Reiner because he’d suggested she met his friends. “The blond from yesterday? Yeah, no, he was fine. Don’t know if your dear Erwinnie Smith will think the same, but I’m glad at least one of us has enough common sense left.” I could picture her glaring at the nasty nickname for our Psychology teacher, then I checked the time and reached for the door handle. “I’ll be hanging up now. I’ll text you when the food’s ready.”

“Sure. And check just in case if Ackerman was the mysterious vacuum. I’m sure it’ll be funny.” Her voice was laced beginning to end with slyness, my fingers twitched over the handle and my face contorted in puzzlement. We’d put him in the clear before he’d even been included in the list of possibilities, so I couldn’t guess her reasons for saying this now. Was she trying to tease? But then again, that didn’t explain the “funny” part. I couldn’t begin to understand why it would be funny for me to fact-check with him. And just when I was about to open my mouth and question it, the monotonous beeping of the call’s end echoed in my ear. People just loved hanging up on me these days. My hand dropped to my side and I clutched the phone just a bit tighter while bracing myself for whatever awaited in the other room. I’d be lucky if it was Levi. And it would be quite awkward and problematic if it were anybody else.

You can do this. Come on. Your parents are scarier than whatever is on the bed. I took three quick breaths and tensed my shoulders in anticipation. It was miraculous how convenient some things were sometimes. Because my father’s intern was on the other side, leaning against the bed’s headboard and scratching at his neck with a yawn. He was – predictably enough – half-naked, because he would’ve probably been against wearing my corset-like top while I wore his shirt. Shit, fuck, piss, oh gooooood have fucking mercy sometimes, would you? I blinked rapidly at the sight of the intern’s torso, staring, ogling and spacing out – quite unabashedly at that. It’s not fair that he’s a constant ten. I swear. It’s not fair. His bed hair was adorable and hot all at once – I didn’t know how that worked and if he hadn’t just woken up, I’d claim it was his post-sex hair instead. I almost wanted to take a picture.

The lighting sure is perfect. Asshole-me chirped in, but I was too transfixed to pay attention to the mockery. Because the lighting was perfect enough to give definition to each and every muscle flexing as he moved. Maybe it wouldn’t have been too bad if he’d made the two pretty little spots, huh? The mean voice sounded and I pursed my lips. Just maybe. I trusted him more than I trusted a stranger for sure. And I hated him too much to grow any feelings aside from physical attraction. You’re forgetting somebody. Asshole-me’s comment turned my hands clammy. Yes, I was forgetting my boyfriend. My good loyal perfect boyfriend and his perfect smile and his bright teal eyes and his soft chocolate hair and… God, couldn’t I spend the night with him instead? I would’ve loved for it to have been that way even though I’d have to take care of him for most of it because he’d likely get drunk first. But he hadn’t been the one to come.

“Morning, asshole. How’d you sleep?” It had taken some time but I’d spent the past two months learning bit by bit how to read him. I sure as hell wasn’t anywhere near being fluent in the language of the smallest of expressions and movements but I had learned at this point the mild stiffening of his shoulders meant I’d caught him off guard. He seemed almost surprised to see me at the bathroom doorstep. Our gazes clashed and he returned it hadn’t been too well since it had been next to me. Alright then. No need for any fact-checking. He would’ve been more awkward if he’d been the one sucking on my neck hours ago. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt, then tossed my phone on the bed and grabbed my jeans off the floor. “We need to get dressed and go. We have almost an hour before my parents wake up.” He was a statue but now he was also a very very awake statue. I almost laughed at the haste with which he felt around the bed for his shirt, right before coming to realise it was currently on me.

“We don’t have money for a cab and the nearest bus stop is a kilometre away.” He said, putting on his shoes and making my brows furrow in confusion. I watched his back muscles flex in the morning sunlight and shook my head upon noticing I was beginning to stare. Then, in my best privileged voice, I asked for him to give an American translation to what he’d just said – because, you know, Americans worked in inches, feet and miles, for whatever reason that was. The special snowflakes of the globe. “Mile and a half.” He grumbled boredly, making me hum as I began unbuttoning the red shirt in order to return it. “Fun night?” His eyes were on me and I was fiddling with the second button self-consciously. He’d seen the hickeys. Then, just for the sake of not fighting the shirt for the next ten minutes out of shame, I pulled it over my head and tossed it at him.

“Don’t remember. Where are my shoes?” He was leaning over the side of the bed to grab them from the floor and I was snatching my corset top off the headboard. Our upper bodies were soon hidden from sight. “We have to hurry.” I took the heels he handed me, put my phone in my back pocket and looked around the room for anything we might’ve forgotten. No such things in sight. Soon enough, we were making our way out of the room and he led us down the hallway to the giant staircase. It was astounding to witness the aftermath of the party in the daylight and it made me thankful for not having to be the one to clean it. The carpets were covered in stains of varying colours and sizes, the smoke had floated up to the tall ceiling and surrounded the crystal chandelier and the living room space looked like an abandoned battlefield – full of scattered empty bottles and cups and boxes and, shockingly enough, clothing articles.

Levi opened the front door and I limped out with my weak ankle, looking around for anything dangerous I might step on with my bare feet. Not wearing my high heels would prove to be the safer option right now, no matter how much shit the raven would give me for having the nastiest dirt-smeared feet in the country afterwards. I glanced at the mansion one last time before catching up to the intern who was pacing ahead in the direction of the gate. Honestly, we were almost in the middle of nothing. Which was exactly the point for the Richards’ isolated holier-than-thou mindset, but if I limited my view to only left and right, I could efficiently delude myself into thinking I was just taking a walk in a very big park. The morning sun was pushing through the tree crowns when we passed the gate and Levi becked me onto the warm pavement that would lead us back into the city. Maybe it was a blessing that we were leaving this early because the soles of my feet would’ve melted if the concrete had had enough time to heat up.

“I call dibs on the bathroom once we’re back.” I blurted out, becoming increasingly aware of the fact I was in great need of a shower in order not to reek during breakfast. Not to mention we looked like we were doing the walk of shame, what with me holding my heels and our hairs looking like we’d sat through a tornado. I was about to mockingly congratulate the intern for having utilised his free time to acquaint himself with the public transportation when he said he’d rather race for it. My brows raised in condescension at the challenge. It had become a routine to sometimes compete like this and, after doing a brief check of the scoreboard (Asshole: 25 Me: 27 Out of a total: 53, unresolved tie from last week) I decided I couldn’t yet become confident enough to let myself lose because it would bring him closer to making the result even. “You wish. I’ll stab you with my heel.” I had to win this one to secure myself the lead for the upcoming three spats that would most likely occur before the end of the month. And during our short time together, I’d figured he was just as competitive as me, though he despised letting it show. Maybe it began when we both realised I had to teach him how to cook.

“When you trip into your ego, I’ll have time to win even with a wound.” He glanced down at me and I got the very intense urge to put on the high heels for the sake of making him just a bit self-conscious, if only for a bit. And to my spiteful muttered “asshole”, his bored countenance didn’t do as much as twitch before he instantly returned: “Princess.” It was a first-class insult and I forgot all about my aching ankle, too busy bickering with him over what breakfast would consist of till we reached the bus stop and stood there, dressed for a party at eight in the morning, clearly annoyed, half-dead and not at all well-rested. The bus came relatively quickly, Levi paid for our tickets and plopped himself in the first seat he saw. I collapsed next to him with a groan as the conductor scrutinised my bare feet.

“Any idea where these are from?” I turned to the raven and he scanned my face before his gaze pinned itself to the crook of my neck. His lips pursed and he shook his head and when I sighed, he stiffly rolled his shoulders and turned to the window. “What even happened after I went to dance?” I was looking for clues – maybe there had been a point in time Annie and Levi hadn’t kept their eyes on me and bam, that would be where the hickeys had happened. Being Sherlock Holmes like this would surely not reap results but it would do no harm for me to at least try. However, the raven obviously didn’t want to cooperate in the form of detailed descriptions.

“You fell off the table and said you wanted to puke so I brought you upstairs.” My eyes were prodding at his profile stubbornly, then he clicked his tongue and gave a short summary of what happened after that, too, seeing as it was what I was about to pester him about. “I wanted us to go back to the house but you were tired, so we ended up falling asleep.” My brows raised in surprise and to my innocent “nothing else?”, he only gave a huff. “Nothing else.” The confirmation was there and I hadn’t caught him lie. I hadn’t learned his tells but there would be no need for him to lie either way. Still, I couldn’t get anything from the condensed version and I couldn’t really poke holes in his story, seeing as he’d been the sober one who could remember everything. So I settled for silently pondering the situation until we arrived at the house. I could spin it around in two or three different ways – all of which surreal and arriving at a dead end. The discouraging lack of facts made me sulk during the last few minutes of the ride.

“Now, let’s be quiet.” I warned as we stood by the front door of the Raven household, making him roll his eyes and he watched me feel around my jeans’ pockets for my keys. It was then it occurred to me that I didn’t remember taking them along, mostly because our escape and return plan had been to use the handmade rope tied to his balcony. My eyes widened and I cringed in realisation. “Shit.” The curse made him sigh and I watched him boredly reach into his own pocket. I assumed he’d take his phone to check the time, but it was three seconds later and a keychain was dangling smugly in front of my face. “I won’t be thanking you, you know.” I crossed my arms with a glare and stepped back so he could unlock the door.

“I know, princess. I did promise to be the responsible one.” Our glares clashed, then the key spun in the lock and I clasped my hands together in anticipation, suddenly feeling something was amiss. My eyes widened when I realised my ring wasn’t where it should’ve been because I wore it at all times and never took it off. Somebody might poke fun at me for it, but I couldn’t care less. And now it was gone. “Come on.” Levi nudged me with his elbow and I realised I was just fixing the closed door with a horrified expression. He opened it and I followed him inside, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall and figuring my parents were still sleeping because they were nowhere to be seen and the shower in the upstairs bathroom wasn’t running. The house was silent and I needed to go look for my ring. But before that, a victory needed to be claimed.

“Seems like we’re safe and I’m---“ Maybe he’d figured I’d begin sprinting. Maybe he’d seen my legs twitch in anticipation as I prepared my stance. Maybe. Because when I made a wide stride to gain an advantage and be first to the staircase, the bastard put a foot in front of me and made me tumble to the floor face-first.

“Face-planting ever so early in the morning.” I didn’t know if my stung palms and knees hurt more than my wounded pride. I looked up from my position on all fours to where he stood at the top of the staircase with his impenetrable frown. His eyes, however, were twinkling smugly. “Seems I won. Better luck next time.” He announced flatly, almost like he couldn’t care less but his chest was puffed out and his jaw strained to keep him from smirking when I tossed my high heels at the stairs with the intention to hit him. Their collision with the steps was loud and he was already in the bathroom, with the door clicking softly behind him despite my desperate attempts to keep him out. I fixed the numbers in my mental scoreboard and proceeded to get up and plan my revenge.

The fact he wins this one time doesn’t mean I can’t give him a taste of the same humiliation. I tip-toed into the kitchen and avoided the thought of the loud noise of my heels hitting the staircase having woken up my parents. Fucking asshole, falling low enough to trip me. That’s basically cheating. I rummaged under the kitchen sink and grabbed a bottle of liquid soap before rushing up the stairs with a mild limp and picking up my heels in passing. Can’t feel no pain. I’m too excited about this. God, seeing him fall would be priceless. I’ve never once seen him do anything clumsy. I would’ve been giggling if I weren’t trying to be cautious. My fingers were unscrewing the cap when my parents’ bedroom door slammed open, making me jump and quickly swivel whilst hiding the bottle behind my back. Oh, shit. I’m still in last night’s clothes. Realising that came too late, along with the fact it would’ve been better if I’d just run into my room altogether.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” My father’s face showed at the doorstep, making my brows furrow at his attire – business casual was Rolland Raven’s trademark for a visit to a fancy café. Not to mention, he only wore the light purple shirt on relatively special occasions. Right behind him was my mother, dressed in a pale yellow blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Why were both of them dressed this fancy this early?

“Hey, sweetie!” She chirped in passing while my father was already going down the stairs. “We’re going out but make sure to tell us about the party when we get back.” She came up to me and kissed my cheek, smiling and hurrying after my father right after. I stood there, utterly stupefied, and in less than thirty seconds, I got to listen to them put on their shoes and lock the door on their way out. My expression was trying to find a way to express my immense confusion and I was staring blankly at their bedroom door when my heels slipped out of my hold and snapped me out of my stupor. Weird. They never mentioned anything about having plans on Sunday. Then again, I was neither’s secretary so they didn’t need to. I shook off the shock and got back to my perfect revenge.

Levi would be done with his shower in less than five minutes. One of his habits was being punctual with everything. And if somebody asked me why I’d remembered he showered for five to seven minutes, I would say I just paid attention to detail and, also, in a desperate attempt to beat him to the bathroom, I’d spent a week spying on his showering habits to the point I knew he showered twice every day – once at six-fifteen and once at nine-twenty so he can wash his teeth at nine-thirty. Yes, creepy. But also very rewarding, considering I was throwing off his routine and got to listen to him curse at me while banging on the door. If I wanted to torture him, I could just go in five minutes before him and exhaust all the hot water. But I wasn’t that evil. I could save that for a special occasion on which he’d pissed me off royally. For now, the liquid soap would do the job. And since I had some time before the show, I decided to drop off my high heels in my room and look for my ring.

Come on. It has to be here. It had to be there because if it wasn’t, that would mean I’d dropped it at Hitch’s mansion and I wouldn’t ever get it back. I laid flat on my stomach and searched under my bed – I found a pair of Eren’s socks and a hairpin Annie had complained about losing last summer. Not what I’m here for. I pushed myself up and checked my nightstand’s drawers. Not here. Maybe it fell off while I was looking for clothes yesterday. But the piles of clothes in the wardrobe were not a success either. I gave a dissatisfied huff and was about to check under my bed a second time when the shower stopped running. A sadistic grin crawled over my face and I poked my head out of my room whilst clutching the door with both hands. If worse came to worst, I needed to slam it closed and lock it fast – and then I’d have to run to my balcony and lock the door there too in order to escape the intern’s wrath. This will be sweet. I watched the bathroom door open and then my dreams fell apart.

“Why don’t you put your foot in front of the doorstep like a normal person?!” I wailed in outrage once he’d stepped over my genius trap, making him snort as I threw my door open and paced into the hallway to glare at him. His bored retort (“Was this supposed to make me slip?”) made me gape in offence. “Yes, it was! Because it’s slippery as fuck! And if you’d just stepped in---“ In the trap, yeah, was how that sentence was supposed to end. Except the trap was so brilliant that even I – its creator – fell victim to it. Annie and Eren had told me a few times my pride would be my downfall one day. Today was the day of the literal application of those words’ truthfulness. I shut my eyes tightly and tried to ignore the irony that I should be brought down and possibly given a concussion by my own little creation, but before I could hit the floor, a steady arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back to my feet. I held his shoulders and my lids fluttered open, shamefully avoiding the sight of his how’s-that-double-humiliation-treating-you? look.

Déjà vu hit me like a brick. His second day at the house had started in a similar manner. I’d been ogling him back then I was ogling him again. I almost felt ashamed of always ogling him but he never seemed to notice or mind too much. Maybe he knew my hormones were not something I could control despite my attachment to my boyfriend. It was just hormones – they were what put a filter in my eyes whenever it came to his appearance – without it, he’d be a perfectly regular guy. But they made his hair seem softer and shinier, made his eyes seem brighter and prettier, made his skin look smooth and appealing, made his body look like something a sculptor might only dream to be able to carve out of a block. The hormones were at fault for the fact his hand gripping my waist made my back cover in goosebumps.

They were at fault for the fact each and every feature of his face looked perfect – the long eyelashes with the water drops and the straight nose with the cute upturn and the high cheekbones and the strict thin brows and the straight line of his lips and the distinct clench of his jaw. Even the stray strands of ebony hair sticking to his forehead. God really had favourites. I didn’t blame him. Levi would be a favourite of mine, too, if I didn’t hate him this much. Asshole-me might butt in and ask how exactly my starry-eyed slobbering-mouth trance translated into hatred and I’d blow her off because liking his appearance didn’t by any means equal liking his character. He and I were polar opposites in all aspects and no matter what Physics had to say about it, these two opposites would never work no matter how much one was attracted to the other.

“Drunk or sober, you’re still stupid enough to fall on your ass if I’m not around.” He made it sound like I constantly fell and he had to catch me. Newsflash, I was a girl with weak ankles. Yes, that was all. Not a klutz – just generally bad ankles. I snorted spitefully and would’ve rolled my eyes if I weren’t too busy feeling a pinch of self-consciousness when I caught his hues dark to the crook of my neck. If somebody walked in on us, they’d be left with the impression we weren’t mere acquaintances. And then I’d tell them he was just an intern and I was a businessman’s daughter and they’d probably laugh. Annie surely did every once in a while.

“You know, when we’re having breakfast you should give me more details about our night. It’d be nice to confirm I just body-slammed myself in the wrong spots so my conscience can be clear in case Eren doesn’t shock me into another dimension with a break-up text.” I gave a light smile and his fingers were bothering me. They should’ve withdrawn a while ago. I should’ve withdrawn a while ago, too. Better late than never. So I stepped back and let go of him. My hands were itching unpleasantly and I was staring at the floor. “I’ll be showering now. You clean this up.” I stepped over the liquid soap and he glared after me before I closed the bathroom door and laughed. The trap didn’t work like it should’ve but this was revenge enough because I knew he’d go crazy if he didn’t scrub it off.

Spying on his habits paid off one way or another. This one I’d tested after noticing he washed his hands pretty often and frowned twice as much after spilling anything. So I’d left a smear of sauce on the counter one night after we’d had dinner and settled on the living room couch only to watch him pace down from his room at midnight – two hours after he’d claimed he’d be going to sleep, mind you – to scrub it off and stomp back. It had irked him too much then and it would irk him too much now. The thought put a smile to my face as I undressed and tossed the dirty clothes in the hamper before adjusting the water to the perfect temperature and grabbing my shampoo. I was about to squeeze out a handful when I realised it was the one Levi used. Seemed nearly empty. I’d have to get him a new one. I put the bottle back with a snort and took my coconut shampoo, rubbing it into my scalp and humming when my mind decided to retrieve a snippet of last night from the trash can the alcohol had thrown it into.

“Can you hear yourself? You’re not making any sense! Why the fuck would you want to have sex—“

He’s almost screaming at me and it hurts and I think I want to cry.

“Because I want to! Because Eren is probably like this because of that! Because I’m a stupid fucking virgin! Because I wanna with you! And— I don’t know what I’m doing.” I don’t want to actually have sex with him. I just want him to give me validation. Give me fucking validation. If somebody does, it’ll make it easier for me to believe my boyfriend doesn’t hate me.

My filter is gone and I don’t like myself. I don’t like myself and I’m dumb and he’s telling me we should leave. He steps forward and I step back in startlement. I trip, I fall, I’m scared, I’m sad, then my ass hits the floor and my head hits something soft.

I open my eyes and he’s there and he stinks of beer but I stink of beer, whiskey, vodka and toothpaste so I forgive him. His face is too close. His face is handsome. His eyes are pretty. They’re always pretty. They’re always asking me to count. I don’t mind counting. I might even like counting when I’m counting the blue specks.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… I lose the number when he blinks. He’s not moving away. He’s not scolding me. He’s not making fun of me for being a princess. His lips look soft. I know they are.

Eren. Eren’s not here. Eren didn’t want to come. Eren doesn’t love me anymore. Eren doesn’t want me anymore. I love Eren so much. Eren. Levi isn’t Eren. If I close my eyes, he might be. I don’t think I want him to be. I don’t know. I hate him.

“… kiss me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I hissed under my breath and my eyes shot open, then, by the laws of the Murphy law and Bathroom Physics, some shampoo got into the left one, making me curse repetitively as I craned my neck upwards and began rinsing and cussing, rinsing and cussing, rinsing and cussing. But rinsing and cussing quietly enough for the intern not to catch it in case he was close to the bathroom door. I proceeded with the rest of my shower in a deep state of disturbance, mostly with wide eyes blinking as my muscle memory took over, hands putting conditioner at the ends of my hair, waiting, scrubbing my body, scrubbing my dirty feet, applying bodywash and, for the first time, not entertaining myself with the foam and giggling like a kid, then rinsing everything and turning the faucet till the water ceased. I wrapped myself in a towel and clutched it tightly against my body when I saw the raven outside, having moved away just in time for the door not to hit him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His comment made me gulp, then I blurted out, in order to distract him, that spilled soap was technically not a mess, to which his brows furrowed in confusion, then annoyance. “Don’t even start.” He’d changed clothes while I’d been showering and was currently holding a sponge. I looked at the bucket of water on the floor, then nodded with a strained smile and rushed into my room. I could’ve told him to stop using my conditioner. I leaned against the closed door with a sigh and stared at my room like a deer in headlights. This was bad. I picked out a clean pyjama set from my pile of clothes and began drying my hair all the while quietly panicking. Alright then, a small fragment of yesterday had fought its way through the fog. Meaning I hadn’t really drunk that much and maybe the amount of alcohol consumed wasn’t the point.

Had he kissed me or not? Ignoring all other highlights that could’ve beared some importance, like the fact I’d straight-up told him I wanted to have sex with him and been whiny as fuck or the fact he’d taken the fall for me for the umpteenth time during the past two months despite my lack of spoken gratitude on each and every instance. The memory had cut off in a spot providing the perfect cliffhanger. It wasn’t all too important that I’d asked him for a kiss. What truly mattered was whether he’d given it or not. And, judging by his behaviour and character, not to mention those ghastly morals he had and lectured me on sometimes, he surely hadn’t. It would make the situation worse. In what way? Well, in the way that it would act as a fire cannon drilling ammunition into my plans for reconciliation with Eren whilst also possibly ruining my friendship-like truce with the intern. My internal monologue was cut off by a rap to my door. I didn’t tell him to come in, so he didn’t.

“I’ll fix us breakfast. What do you want?” His voice asked through the door, seemingly bored and indifferent and yet – two months ago he wouldn’t have made breakfast and he most certainly wouldn’t have taken my preferences into consideration. It was progress and this would stab it till it bled out, resulting in tension throughout the rest of the year. I couldn’t allow that to happen. And I wasn’t against spending time with him, all things considered. Because he was acting normally which meant he’d probably rejected me yesterday and decided on keeping it to himself this morning for the sake of not making things awkward between us when they’d just settled into a routine. We both liked routines, so I’d do my best to preserve ours as well – I wouldn’t act strange and I wouldn’t overreact. My conclusion was accompanied by a sigh.

“Try for pancakes. Call if you can’t flip them.” I sounded normal alright. All I needed was to keep it up until either the rest of my memory returned and I settled the score or I forgot about it altogether. “And make me coffee!” I’d heard him approach the staircase and my order made him return that he wasn’t my servant. “Yet, asshole! Milk and two sugars!” He was technically my servant. I didn’t have direct power over him, but I did consider him a stand-in for myself when it came to the kitchen. I’d let him see, for just a few months, what every day for me looked like – namely, a full-time non-paid chef and barista. It might sound sadistic to some but it was plain hierarchy and if he chose not to do it, I’d still have to do it myself so, by complying, he was indirectly saying he didn’t mind it too much. All for the sake of a truce I’d almost ruined by being a whiny horndog.

“Twenty minutes!” He called boredly, making me smile at the normalcy of the sound. I didn’t have anything to worry or panic about. In contrast with Eren, Levi wasn’t detached and he hadn’t kissed me because he’d be too uncomfortable to talk to me if he had. Now that I’d dried my hair relatively well, it was time to contact my best friend with an update. So I called her and I kept looking for my ring with her on speaker on top of my bed.

We discussed my memory lag and how one particular fragment of it had returned and she was walking to my place on foot but she still spent three full minutes simply laughing. I was too afraid to ask what about, so I let her have her fun whilst searching my room top to bottom for my ring, which, of course, I managed to complain about, too. Time flew when I was gossiping with my best friend about the people she’d met – college boys who’d spent half their night drunkenly promoting the community college of Philadelphia. It steered the topic away from the party and in the direction of where we’d be applying. And just like that, Annie concluded the conversation by telling me to get my ass downstairs and open the door for her. I rushed out and down the stairs, and she greeted me with a hug while I noted she smelled like a whole shelf of alcohol had spilled on her.

“College dorm room.” She commented with a deadpan, then I snorted with laughter and led her to the kitchen, where Levi sat, glaring at the dishes and utensils waiting. The sink was full and the pancakes that had been borne of the wreckage were in the middle of the counter, surrounded by bottles and jars of syrup, chocolate, marmalade and whipped cream. How thorough. And, upon further inspection, Levi hadn’t burned his fingers like the first time. I’d raised a decent cook, came the proud conclusion.

“I said twenty minutes.” He reproached as Annie took a seat across from him and I grabbed a dish for her. “And since when do I cook for you? Don’t you have a house?” He glared at my best friend and she crossed her legs and glared right back. I only sat with a sigh – this was a regular occurrence at this point. For somebody who visited the house every week, Annie was still somebody Levi hadn’t quite accustomed to. Not to mention, she always made sure to start unofficial wars with him. This just proved the point that peas in a pot didn’t get along well, despite being so similar. One would think they’d become best friends and I’d exit the picture altogether with how many opinions and behavioural habits they shared, but no – it was an unnervingly silent warzone every time.

“Since you cook for her. We’re a package deal. And my apartment is on How About You Mind Your Business Street. You’re not the owner of this house, Ackerman.” She huffed and I rolled my eyes at their bickering. It wasn’t the way I bickered with him, mostly because when it came to the two of them it was ice fighting ice, which was plain scary in terms of cold glares, sharp flat voices and unimpressed frowns that didn’t show emotions aside from annoyance. I was sure they didn’t really hate each other, but if somebody asked me where the fuck this had started I wouldn’t be able to answer. And I didn’t intend on asking either – my only job was to diffuse the conflict before it put a damper on our morning. To do that, I put my hands in the air and waved them between them – two sets of glacier glares darted away from each other and stabbed into me. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t used to this.

“Settle down, spiteful children. We have warm food and hangovers. How about we deal with that?” My suggestion made them snort simultaneously. Seriously, sometimes it was fascinating to watch them. I hoped by the end of Levi’s internship they would’ve established some kind of truce as well. “I don’t know why you fight at all but I’ll disperse the tension by saying I still haven’t found my ring.” I smiled uneasily when they didn’t do as much as reach for the food, then the ebony-haired male gave a small sigh and put his hand in his pocket. Two seconds later, it was laying palm down over the counter, sliding in my direction. When it lifted, a shiny silver band was revealed from underneath. I gaped and my gaze bounced back to his face. “Where did you---“

“Mansion’s kitchen right before you went dancing. I found no point in returning it right away, seeing as you were so drunk you were just going to lose it again.” He explained flatly, making my expression light up as I beamed at the ring and happily slipped it back on my left ring finger, not paying any mind to the half-assed insult at the end of his speech. The nightmare was done and even though I’d been reckless enough to lose it at the party, I was ecstatic, for once, that Levi was so observant. I was grinning and, in my exaltation, not at all fazed by the matching sets of wide eyes. I’d figure a bit later if I thought about it that this had been the first time I’d grinned in a while. Neither of them had anticipated the attachment I’d formed to the ring – rightfully so, because I myself hadn’t expected it.

“Thank you, asshole.” The cool feeling was back on my skin, my shoulders were slumped in relief and “asshole”, just this once, had grown into a nickname instead of an insult. I hadn’t felt it happen and I wouldn’t notice it at all just like I wouldn’t notice that over time it would entirely lose its offensive quality. “Now, let’s eat.” I urged them with a smile, making their faces go back to neutrality as they began putting pancakes on their plates and picking toppings. I myself opted for a combination of whipped cream and syrup – something even Annie, as a fellow American, sometimes glanced at with a judgy gaze. She was an avid chocolate worshipper and Levi, lacking a sweet tooth, always picked a marmalade made of sour fruits.

“So, you two have fun last night?” My mouth was stuffed to the brim with pancakes when Annie’s question almost made me choke on them. Levi’s face grew into an expression of mild constipation and he cleared his throat. Both of us opened our mouths with the intention to shut down the sly remark when my phone rang in my pocket. Saved by the bell, as boxers and high school students both said. Annie and Levi watched me chew while taking the device out of my pocket, then my eyes widened and all the processed food went down my throat in one big dreadful gulp. “Who is it?” My best friend’s soft inquiry made me take a deep breath as I showed her the screen and the name of the caller, which only resulted in her brows knitting together. Levi watched as I picked up. Maybe he already knew by my reaction who it was.

“Yes?” I greeted with a doubtful voice. This was the first time Eren had been the one to call in over two weeks. It only reminded me of how he’d excused himself out of going to Hitch’s party yesterday and how it had made me wish I could cry for a very big portion of the night I remembered properly. I wondered what his reason for calling now was. I couldn’t say, despite knowing him well, that I knew. Maybe he wanted to break up – no, he wouldn’t do it over the phone. Maybe a reconciliation date. Maybe to hear how the party had gone even though he couldn’t have been sure I’d go without him.

“Hi, (Y/N), I--- uh, more like, Mikasa urged me to call you.” He sounded nervous. He was picking out his words, carefully, cautiously, like saying the wrong thing would result in carnage. The mere statement he’d been forced into calling me by somebody else was enough for that, but I decided to approach this conversation as casually as possible, mostly in order to keep my feelings in check. Levi and Annie were staring at me as I sarcastically asked if I should thank her, to which my boyfriend drew a panicky breath. “No, no, she just advised me. I… It’s about prom.” My eyes widened and I glanced at Annie, who only put a hand to my shoulder and rubbed there soothingly. Meanwhile, Levi was cutting away at his pancakes but I was sure he was paying attention, seeing as he’d never be this quiet otherwise.

“… oh.” The breathless sound fell from my lips quietly. I’d forgotten all about prom but it was just five days away and since the arrangements were done a while ago, it was easy for it to slip out of my mind. I didn’t know why Eren would be calling me about that. I didn’t know why Mikasa would advise him to call me about that. Annie was holding her breath in anticipation and I was looking at Levi, glaring at his pancakes like his detached boyfriend was calling for the first time in weeks during a nice morning only to bring up one of the biggest events of high school.

“I’ve been an ass to you, (Y/N). So I get it if you’re angry and refuse but will you think about being my date?” Maybe it was karma, even though I didn’t believe in karma. Maybe it was the universe paying back its debt for making me suffer. Maybe it was everything returning to normal. Maybe I could have my Eren back. I was processing and then it hit me when the information soaked in. Eren was asking me to prom. Eren admitted he’d been acting wrongly. Eren was nervous that I’d refuse and that was, all things considered, normal but at the same time entirely unneeded. Entirely wholly utterly unneeded.

“Are you serious?!” I squeaked excitedly, probably making him draw back from the speaker because of how high-pitched the sound had been. Even Levi and Annie flinched in surprise. “I don’t need to think about it – yes! Of course! I’m not angry, I’m--- I was scared for a second there!” I was grinning from ear to ear and it was visible, it was audible and it was almost humiliating to think such a nervously-worded simple question from my own boyfriend could make me this ecstatic. I couldn’t care about it right now. I was soaring and my heart was swelling and I wanted to think it was because of happiness, not high cholesterol due to the build-up of junk food I’d been consuming.

“I’m sorry I was busy, babe. Really. And… I want to spend time with you.” His voice was soft and the words were almost shy, almost not there, almost the same as they’d been years ago before he’d asked me on a date. We’d been kids back then and he sounded like a kid now and I looked like one. Actually, maybe I looked exactly like I’d looked back then. And later I would tell my mother, the same way I’d done before, how my face hurt from too much smiling because Eren just made me that happy. We’d grown up but in some aspects we stayed the same. I hoped we’d stay the same.

“I want that, too, Ren. Thanks for asking me. I’ll make sure to thank Mikasa, too.” I joked softly and then, well, then I got my boyfriend back. I got the perfect boyfriend with the messy chocolate locks and the bright teal hues and the soft voice that always mirrored his expression to perfection.

“Don’t, she’ll burst from pride. I’ll see you at graduation, (Y/N). My mother will be ecstatic to talk to you.” It was the normal voice and I could hear the smile at the end of his sentence and I could swear this was too good. It was the end of the rough patch and everything would go back to how it had been and I’d re-establish my routine and we’d go on dates and we’d call and we’d kiss and we’d dance at prom even though I couldn’t dance and we’d get married in time, after university was done. My parents would stop acting awkward when I came back home from a ruined date and Levi would stop listening to me complain about the situation. Annie would get a break from it, too. Everything was perfect.

“I’ll be ecstatic to see her, too. Bye, Eren.” I listened to him hum happily on the other end of the line, then I hung up and put my phone on the counter. My face already hurt from smiling too much. From mildly happy I’d gone to having an emotional orgasm in the span of twenty seconds. Annie and Levi watched me silently, waiting for me to burst. I did. “Eren asked me to prom! I’m so happy!” I clapped my hands and jumped in my seat excitedly, swinging my legs and buzzing from excitement while the two statues exchanged glances.

“Should you be?” Levi was the first to poop on my party with his cautious inquiry. I threw him a small reproachful glare, then Annie hopped along on the wagon as well, saying things hadn’t quite been talked out and him asking me to prom didn’t suddenly mean things would go back to how they’d been. (”Not to mention...” And when she glanced at my neck, I felt a sudden singeing pain.) My brows furrowed and the raven sighed. “Not exactly my business, but you shouldn’t rush the excitement. Leonheardt is right. He still hasn’t told you the reason for his aloofness. Until that happens, the problem isn’t quite solved.” I scowled and watched them stare at me pointedly. Party poopers was what they were. Professional party poopers who couldn’t enjoy the small things because they always looked at the big picture. I was the one who regarded things too narrowly this time around.

“You’re both terrible. Can’t I have nice things?” They shook their heads “no” and I groaned. “Well, I’ll be happy about this if I want to and you can’t stop me. Eren and I are fine. We’ll talk. And then you’ll see.” I threatened with a light glare and crossed arms, then they exchanged glances again and Annie restarted the topic on us having had fun last night, to which we argued with her as a team. The insinuation that anything had happened was useless, she was poking holes in our defense and I was holding the fort while Levi was eating, then he was shooting while I stuffed my mouth. And so we spent the morning. An hour later, when Annie was lounging on the couch and I was washing the dishes, Levi dropped off his empty tea cup. “Seriously? You know I hate it when you do this.” He huffed and I scowled, focused on the dishes and wishing to stab him with my elbow.

“You have something.” Before I could react and ask him what he meant, his thumb brushed against the side of my face, near the corner of my mouth. I turned to him in bafflement and my shoulders stiffened at the sight of the whipped cream on his finger. Our gazes locked and then he licked it off, making my brows shoot up in surprise. My uncle and aunt were nowhere to be seen, so why had he bothered? Was this part of a hidden camera scheme? I didn’t try to thank him and he was staring at my face boredly. My hands had stopped scrubbing the dirty dishes. The TV in the living room was creating background noise. Maybe I was stupid. Maybe I was delusional. Maybe I had to get myself checked. Because I could swear he eyed my lips before swivelling for my father’s office with a click of his tongue.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac

#mtij #levi x read #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman fanfiction #x reader #snk x reader #party aftermath basically #also levi is shitting his pants the whole day #ANNIE KNOWS #or she thinks she does #but she's right anyway #reader is oblivious as fuck #eren is cute but he's also being a dick... we'll see why #also i do not under any circumstances endorse cheating when you're spiteful at your so #just a disclaimer about that - it's fanservice for entertainment #not life advice

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