#the scuba suit 😭😭😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

levmada · 2 years

Text

Canal pt.3: Appearances Don't Make the Man

work summary » You think the greatest feat of your career is upon you when a mythical creature is stolen from the sea and thrust into your life—then, stubbornly, into your heart.

You both learn there is more to each other than circumstances, and appearances, let on—until an accident threatens to tear you apart. Soon, both of your fates depend on defending everything you’ve worked to build, or setting him free.

ch.summary: When an obstacle between you and your research pries you both apart, you muster up the guts to do the unthinkable (for you, at least). In the end, however, you and Levi are committed.

content/warnings: hurt/comfort, Erwin is up to no good, descriptions of anxiety, mer!Levi is so cute (the cutest), overcoming obstacles, the power of friendship, brief+vague reference to suicidal ideation, confronting feelings

wc: ~12.1k

a/n: FINALLY IM BACK!!

this chapter is l o o ng.. and i am, in general, a huge editing hater. it takes so much more work n time than writing for me. however i AM happy with this chapter. maybe i can prioritize and finish this fic in july😭

happy may 56th or whatever😔

previous part・work masterpost・next part

Erwin’s jaw visibly tightened. “I have to disagree.”

You knew he’d say that. “Even though it was a complete accident? One that I won’t allow to be repeated?”

In his spacious officespace, which housed more bookshelves than space , he stood at ease in front of his desk, expression neutral to the point of unnerving.

“Even if you could guarantee that… It’s out of my hands. If an incident, especially a life-threatening incident occurs, that researcher is barred from that project—and not for anyone’s safety but said researcher.”

“I’m not in danger, Erwin, that’s my point.”

“No,” he replied evenly. “You aren’t.”

You never were in the first place. It was no more Levi’s fault than the beachball you had dug out of storage for him—to play around with as he pleased during some downtime.

For long enough to even tire himself out, he had been content to bounce it back over to you on the pool’s edge, you bounding from one spot to another to keep up. It had obviously been a point of pride for him to hit it back as hard as possible, but he meant no harm. The trouble only came when you joined him among the waves.

You had wanted to (besides the fact you thought he had a complex about your lack of fins). And, part of you had been sure he missed having a companion to swim with.

So, in proper scuba gear (you also pointed out to Erwin) you had done just that.

Appearance-wise, the facility’s beach balls were painfully average. Only, they were weighted so that a force as strong as a thwack of Levi’s tail wouldn’t pop it, or send it whirling into outer space.

Stupid accident. Ridiculous, even.

You knew that Levi didn’t mean to, he hadn’t known that such a rough pop of the ball underwater at your back would knock your air canister that severely.

Maybe even… (you didn’t tell Erwin that you weren’t sure) that humans were so inferior to merpeople; people couldn’t hold their breath for more than minutes at a time, even if they were trained. He could have (and had) counted on one hand how many humans he had personally come into some sort of surface-level contact with during his lifetime.

Warm saltwater had rushed into your suit through the broken valve. Worse, vision had not been on your side near the pool’s cement bottom, the pressure overwhelming.

Levi wasn’t even anywhere near you at the time: he had swum off to fetch the ball which had bounced off you. Contrary to everything he portrays about himself, he’s so playful.

Absorbed in his own world, he hadn’t noticed the rapid stream of bubbles surging out of the seams of your helmet, nor your rapid ascent up towards the surface.

After you tore off your helmet, but before you had broken the surface of the water, the pressure squeezing your lungs had been overwhelming, like a cage of bricks crushing your chest from the inside.

You remembered staring upwards through violently stinging eyes, unable to resist your body’s instinct to cough, the water fighting your heavy limbs—before a force had caught your back.

You had torn through the water’s wavy surface in a heartbeat, but the sweet air hadn’t been yours yet; your chest was too busy wracking to make room for it.

The world had never gone blacked out completely, not once, just… the ringing in your ears phased in and out, not allowing you to hear Levi. You still didn't know what he was trying to tell you. At the time all you could do had been hunch over the cement edge and retch. Tears of exertion streamed down your cheeks.

Levi’s arm had been steadfast around your waist, with his rough bark by your ear—“Stop drowning! You’re out of the water now, so fucking breathe!”

Not helpful. So you had taken his fist and slammed it against your diaphragm. You couldn’t cough with your lungs full of water.

He had then followed your example with his head shoved over your shoulder, watching your face. You assumed in case it turned blue.

The pool had cameras, of course. Armin had rushed down.

Levi was with you the whole time until he physically couldn’t be anymore, because Armin all but wheeled you on a gurney to Sector 1 to be looked over.

Armin couldn’t have been dissuaded. Even though part of you had known you needed some help, you had also known what dark avenues an official report would have opened up. Cue your current predicament.

Being mandated three days off wasn’t even as bad as not seeing Levi— Am I ever going to see him again?—afterwards to reassure him of what had happened.

Now this lecture from Erwin. You weren’t finished , dammit.

You paced and paced back and forth from your officespace window to the door. It overlooked a lonely, rocky shore. Moonlight shines off the water. The only sign of civilization was the dock, the dock Dad had built that his lonelier houseboat was attached to.

If he could see you now.

You rubbed your temples. Can't think about that.

Matters weren’t ever just… out of Erwin’s hands. There was always a string for him to pull, always a person in his favor.

So the next question begged: how could he tell that your… partnership, with Levi had grown too personal?

On principle, perhaps. You never got attached to your projects, period, and without taking that into account, what about how much time and energy you had been giving Levi?—Erwin had known your father personally, he knew this was important to you.

He had pointed out, back then: “You and Dr. Zöe are the only ones that call it ‘he’. Did you notice?”

Appearances don’t make the man.

Erwin had agreed off the bat that there was more to Levi. So what type of research was Erwin going for?—Information on others like Levi? Fame?

You sighed to yourself, hurt and heavy. Despite how well you knew him, you couldn’t be 1 00% certain. It had to be for some selfish gain, but. You couldn’t rationalize it right now, it wasn’t making sense, and it was stressing the hell out of you.

Even the lack of hearing Levi’s filthy mouth was beginning to hurt.

You’re being dramatic, you told yourself.

What about the data? Was Hange taking good care of him?

A short cough twinged the bruises on your sternum, which you absentmindedly held while you pace.

Then you stopped. Hange.

After you, Hange had been the next best supervisor to overlook a project like Levi.

Even though large sea creatures were the sheer opposite of their specialty, they had a decade of experience, you more than vouched for them (when it was clear you couldn't convince Erwin), and they were the most brilliant mind at the facility. And the surface-level knowledge of your research didn't hurt, either.

A glance out the window. The waxed moon was crawling up the sky. Calling this late meant you two would have time to talk candidly.

For the past week you had been calling each other concerning updates during the workday, but they were restricted from filling you in on the… important things, since these calls happened through their work phone. These calls were procedure, since it used to be your position.

You hadn’t reached out personally, not after their accusation about—being in love . So strange when you couldn’t pinpoint your feelings about your lunch half the time. And when Levi was not… a person, for godsakes.

But they would help. Maybe.

You stared at the clear white numbers dialed into your phone, steadying your nerves by curling a hand into a fist.

They had agreed with you, back then after looking over your data, that there was more to Levi than, “I could’ve ever imagined in a, an octillion years!”

Around the dining table in Dad’s old houseboat, you remembered the exact face of pure glee peering up at you from stack upon stack of (your once organized) paperwork, spilled all around the oak like a folding fan.

The fact they had been chosen was the reason you hadn’t fought Erwin even harder on this. You could have demanded to appeal to the board, you could have sued, maybe. You could have done all manner of things that risked your livelihood, but you didn’t.

The more apprehensive part of yourself had convinced the stubborn part that it wasn’t necessary—that be it as it may, your father’s research would be for something, just, partly, not because of you. You had turned away from the gut feeling that whined that it wasn’t enough.

Now, it was shouting at you.

You pressed the call button.

The static feedback when they first picked up was accompanied by the whirring of a microwave in the background. They were at home. Good.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. “How’re you?”

They snorted a little down the other line. “Howdy! You finally wanna hear about Levi, I’m guessing? Off the record?”

You pouted a little. “No… I mean yes, but you’re not just… my spy,” you said meekly.

“I know, I know! I’m just teasing you.”

Once the smalltalk had passed you by—the most notable tidbit that Mike had bought a lighter with a pink flamingo on it—you did ask Hange about Levi. You couldn’t overstate how much he concerned you, not that you didn't trust Hange, but this was important . You had told him before, you couldn’t promise that another researcher would share your treatment, though Hange came close.

“He hasn’t talked to me,” they complained, almost whining. “Like, not even to insult me or anything! I thought that was his thing.”

You couldn’t help it, a laugh escaped you.

“First time I met him—”

“Don't tell me you went about prodding and touching him, please. Personal space is important to him.”

“I didn't know that!” They stammered for a positive. "He let Nifa trim his nails!”

“Oh.” Your brows lift. “Did that… go well?”

“He didn’t bite me, at least... But I think he picks at them when he's nervous.” They clear their throat. “Alright!—So, uh, bad news time.”

“Hm. Shoot,” you replied. You kept your voice as toneless as possible, but you still frowned, stooped heavily over your desk.

You had been taking notes. Stubborn to a fault, even a complete dismissal from duty wouldn’t have kept you from your work.

“They—” they falter. “Well, besides the fact that Levi appears to be sick—”

Your eyes bulged. “Besides that?”

“—lethargic, not eating—”

“Not even his seaweed snacks?”

“Not even seaweed! And I still haven’t found a cause. It appears to be something of a cold, so that hasn’t been my main concern,” they explained. “As I was saying, I had to follow through with complaints from your staff.”

“Crap.”

“That deserves worse than crap, I think.”

Your eyes closed briefly. Impatient. “Go on?”

“They found it too hard to work with him, taking him back to the pool almost every night. He refused to cooperate. And so it was back to the tank... I’m sorry, dear.”

Your heart physically panged. Your mind blanked, violently washed away by one single priority—

What was logic? It didn’t matter, not at that moment.

They can’t do that! you thought (like a spoiled brat), even though they most certainly could if Levi wasn’t cooperating.

“You let them…?” you asked, stricken.

They speak your name reverently. “Admittedly… I was scared of screwing this up. Levi hates everyone but you, and even then, I can’t match up to your standards, you know that.”

You pushed down the burst pride that glowed in your blood from part of that explanation. “If he hated you, you'd know. And, my standards are kind of impossible for me to match up to, to be fair.”

“Ha. Well.” A sigh was heard down the line. “I don’t know how to get Levi to cooperate like you, and, with the threats to the staff’s safety… I made the best choice I knew how. I can tell I screwed it up worse, which means, dear: I need you a helluva lot more than you need me, honestly!”

“We need to do something,” you replied, blushing. Your feet kick into action. Are you pacing again?—Who cares? “Hange, listen to me.”

They were quick to shoot back a reply. “We appeal to Erwin, as a friend. Is that what you were gonna say?”

Yes. It wasn't as if he was a maniacal dictator, just that he did have the resolve to do just about anything, no matter the resources. And he was a stubborn bastard. He was no stickler for the rules, at heart; rather he tended to work around them.

“That’s our best shot to stay on the legal side of things.” Then you paused, running a few hundred more possibilities through your mind. “Yeah. He’s stubborn, but not impossible... I wonder what he wants.”

“Well—”

“Oh, crap.” How could you forget? “Th-Thank you, Hange, you’re amazing. Thank you,” you told them in a flurry, followed quickly by a rush of embarrassment. “Um, go on.”

A chuckle. “ Okay. Okay, so first of all, we don't know what he wants. More importantly right now, I would like to know your intentions with this before you go forward with anything. We might have to break the law to start off with, so a goal would be helpful.”

Intentions? Goal?

“To, um—” you blinked in a flurry. “Wow, this is uh, personal.”

You could practically see the question marks pop up above Hange’s head. “Is it?”

They sounded so coy.

“It’s Levi,” you stated, like it made obvious sense. “I’m studying him. For Dad.”

“Yes, well, technically, he still is being studied. I know you want no one’s hands on that research but you, but dude —”

You gritted your teeth. “Hans.”

“You’re talking like the world is ending, first of all, and going against the rules !?” They sounded positively scandalized. “Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?”

You quieted. Even your pacing ceased. Your heart felt like it was falling upwards.

You parted your lips, stammered, then shut them. What do you say?

Levi was the most amazing creature you had ever had the privilege of studying— you , out of everyone in the wide world. He was interesting, and interested in you. Scary, but… safe, in a way. Aloof, like you. Fantastic. Incredible, too.

And you could make your dad proud. Awards. The rest.

Those blips of light shining in a pond. And yet… they failed to compare to the sea of feelings you had felt unraveling inside you for the past months.

And now that it was in danger of… going extinct—

You planted your phone to your chest so you could take a deep, steadying breath. What did you tell Levi back then?

“My intentions are selfish.”

“Finally. That’s the spirit,” they said warmly.

You tried to compromise. “But, it’s not like I wanna hang him on my wall. He just… deserves better.” Put simply. “I’m not a bad person.”

“I didn’t say you were, dear.”

You worked the inside of your cheek with your teeth. “Okay. Thanks. Do you have time to work up a plan with me?”

“Right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh shit! My fries! Okay!” Something metallic—the microwave door?—sounds like it opens. “Let’s do it.”

Even each breath through your nose was careful, calm, and calculated. It was approaching the dead of night, but that was impossible to have the faintest inkling of due to the bright fluorescents in the ceiling. The floor, much to your chagrin (for once), was so clean it squeaked with every footfall.

Your steps were especially measured until you came to a robotic stop before the fortress of a door that led into the canal. You peered up and to your right, at the dark, circular camera attached to the ceiling corner.

You had more than Hange to thank for helping you. The price of Eren’s cooperation had been a promotion (and blunts. Thank you, Hange.) , which a person of your repute was easily qualified to give. Other than those two, no one knew, not even Levi.

It took some finicking with the security mainframe’s code, but it was possible to open the canal up remotely—even if it was entirely against regulations.

One hearty click and several restless moments of low whirring later, the door lifted from the wall on its heavy hinges. Also like a robot, you took the handle and crept inside.

Now that you were properly in , you could get swept away by different, less pressing issues than getting caught.

Levi. What did he think happened to you?—That you abandoned him entirely after the accident? You hoped he had taken you on your word, but after his reaction the first time you weren’t present for an experiment, well.

You hoped he didn’t blame himself.

His room had been moved to the very rear of this area of Sector 3, but his container was the same. You got a glimpse at its eyeglass shape when squinting in through the blinds, and then you saw him .

The casing was closed, of course. Somehow having heard you, his squinty eyes below trimmed black bangs was as much as you were given.

Still. No way he saw you. This type of glass was one-way, the sort you found everywhere in police stations.

You rifled through your choice of words in a heartbeat, because you knew it was painful for him to lean up like that with his wrists pinned down.

After a (unnecessary) cursory look left and right, you jammed the key Hange personally copied for you and let yourself in, daring the door to whine.

A pair of grey eyes widened almost comically to see you, bringing out every blue in them. His lips parted, shut, his jaw stuttered, and then he finally lowered himself back down.

I’m sorry for leaving you , you thought. Saying it out loud was harder.

You slid the door shut at a volume softer than silence, then the blinds. As a precaution, you also eyed the cart tucked against the wall—full of various protective equipment—and rolled that in front of the door as well.

Only then did you approach.

He continued to watch you over his shoulder, blinking like you were nothing but a hallucination while you made him more comfortable at the console: spreading the container’s size, making the restraints shoot open, and finally, lifting the dome itself.

Once it popped free, a stream of steam waterfalled over the container’s rim.

Ironic, now your feet were frozen in place. He was the one who moved first, harshly disturbing the water. A soft chirp cracked open the air.

“Hi,” you breathed.

Up in a proper sit, he braced his shoulder as he stretched, the cringe evident on his face. Even still, he had always kept a habit of watching you.

Your more clinical mind was already humming, scanning his appearance for anything visibly off. His biceps and belly muscles were a little smaller—a consequence of his total lack of swimming—and as Hange had said, he seemed sick. The dark circles beneath his eyes contrasted sharply with his pale skin.

He didn’t reply. Instead, his thin brows sunk into a glare.

“Hi, Levi,” you said properly this time. You ambled off the platform to his side.

Levi didn’t know what it meant to cower. His back was straight facing you, glaring, but he didn’t seem resentful. More… tortured .

“You came back,” he mutters, tone flat despite the slew of emotions in his eyes. That wrinkle between his thin brow becomes more evident when he furrows them. “You smell scared.”

“That’s reassuring,” you retorted.

He grunted in kind, looking down. His fingers, whose nails were significantly shorter, tapped the side.

“I’m…” You needed the short explanation for now. “I don’t plan on leaving again. It was taken out of my hands for a while, that’s… all.”

You just failed to mention the toll all this had taken on you. Maybe he can smell it, anyway.

“Then…” His tail waved gently, betraying the frown on his face. “Hello.”

You smiled, this time with abandon. “Hi.”

“You said that already,” he replied, then glanced downward with a deeper drown. “Why’re you scared?”

Shocked, you took your hand, and pressed your lips. Was this shame you felt?

“You’re not supposed to be here, right? If you choose to be dishonest coming back, you should be honest to me,” he told you, voice thin.

Rationalizing your feelings, and by extension your actions, had always been a walk in the park. It made the messy part, the emotions themselves, easier to work through.

Like Levi, you both seem to struggle in showing them like normal… people.

“I’m not used to breaking the rules,” you told him under your breath.

His tired eyes blinked at you, long and slow. You needed a change of subject. Now.

You dug in your satchel for a carrying case.

“Hange told me you haven’t been feeling well. So take these.” You hold out the chalky white tablets in your palm “They should remedy your symptoms some.”

His lips pressed, glaring at them with distrust. “Fucking drugs?”

“Look at it this way: they’ll give you some more strength to feel better. Plus, they’ve been tested. This isn’t a gamble.”

He eyed them. Your arm was growing achy before he flipped his hand for you to dump them in his wet palm—

—only for him to grab that hand with his other. It wasn’t a strange thing by itself for him, but he was really squeezing, so much that your joined hands began to wobble.

You winced, mouth agape. “What’re you doing?”

His ears flicked as his eyes shot up from your hands. He looked at you like you were stupid. “How else do you stop a moving thing?”

“That’s not how that works.”

You laughed despite yourself; he was being cute. As you brought your other hand down so his was sandwiched between both of yours, he scoffed a little.

Quietly, “How it work, then?”

You thought it over, including Levi’s mysterious illness, which began two days following your disappearance. While you had been in charge of him, he had never shown the slightest inkling of any sickness.

“How does your illness work?” you ask.

This quieted him. Mental illness, even something as acute as stress, or mourning, usually presented itself in many ways.

They’re not perfectly comparable, but dolphins came down with similar symptoms after the loss of another dolphin. The sudden change in routine for him must’ve been what did it, after he came to rely on you some.

Abruptly, he pulled his hand out from between yours, snuffling. He worked his hand into a small fist, stretching it so the small blue cartilage binding his fingers at the base were visible.

You cleared your throat. When he looked at you, your eyes went to the water. “Those are easier to take with some water.”

Brows quirked, he gave an amused little warble before sliding down the back wall of the glass and dunking under the water.

Not what you had in mind, but good.

You had time to enjoy this. Hange and you had planned on these meetings lasting more than one night while they negotiated with Erwin on letting you return to studying Levi—only this time, together. A compromise you were pleased with.

Once Levi improved physically and attitude-wise (a begging edge appeared in your tone when you noted an improvement to his relationship with Hange, too), those doors of compromise would unlock.

A soft-hearted rule-follower (to a fault) like yourself doing this, it had been unthinkable two days ago. But, Hange has a way of making you brave, and you were stubborn as well. And —though you kept silent on this point—Levi was worth the risks that fell on you.

He cocked his head at the tail-end of your explanation, head slightly tilted. Admiration… maybe?

As he listened, one of your earrings was tossed up and down in one hand. It was Christmas-themed, and Levi’s favorite out of your variety, even though the earring itself was nothing more than a tinkling green bell attached to a small hook.

(The other was colored red, which Levi disliked. His favorite color, you had learned after arduous questioning one evening, was white. Whenever you had told him yours, he clicked his tongue in approval, which… stuck in your mind often.)

While you spoke, you sat across the room on your stool, sorting out the filing cabinets. Wherever Hange went, a whirlwind of disorganization followed them.

“Do you have any—” Objections? Complaints? “—worries?” you asked.

He floats on his back, staring up at the paneled ceiling. Through the glass, his profile is clear; you get a sudden urge to take a photo of him—for no clinical reason.

“No. And stop staring.”

Heat takes over your face. “I was just waiting on your answer.”

“You smell embarrassed.”

You roll your eyes with a small pout. It wasn’t like him to find nothing to complain about; you ask him to elaborate.

“Acting like Glasses isn’t creepy is shitty, but there are shittier things to be worried about.” He stops tossing the earring, and plants it on his chest, which rises and falls slowly. “No matter what you choose to do, my… moving would be the worst-case scenario for me.

“So no. Don’t worry about me. This is all my fault and you’re going through some worthless trouble, but… that’s your choice.”

That was the first time he brought that up.

Despite what he just told you, your eyes remain transfixed on his profile, the crisp files parted in your hands. The loudest sound between you is the gentle swish of his tail.

It was easy to forget how helpless Levi’s position was from his perspective because of his uncaring attitude. You hoped he cared what happened to him, in the end.

With a reserved hum, you decided to carry on.

When it became late enough to be considered early morning, you took his vitals and made sure he was comfortable.

You were thorough despite your foggy mind. This type of sleep schedule was a bad routine, but coffee helped.

“You look tired,” he mumbled.

Your lips pressed, smiling. “Do I smell tired, too?”

His nose wrinkled up.

“Okay, I’m gonna get going.” You pushed off from his tank, your finger doodling mindless shapes around the switch that will shut the dome top. That earring felt… weighted in your pocket, in an invisible way.

Levi watched you for a beat or two, crossed his arms. “Hurry up, then.”

You nodded at his tail. “Yeah. Yup.”

Several more beats passed, your finger still stubbornly not moving over the button despite your mind commanding it to. You couldn’t not.

You counted down from five, but you still couldn’t bring yourself. You were rendered just as frozen as you were when you arrived—and why?

You glanced at him, only for him to look away. Did he feel similarly?

Nausea rolled through your stomach to imagine Levi feeling physically sick because of you.

This was your fault. You should've fought Erwin harder.

A confused warble rumbles in the top of his throat. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I…” Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. You didn’t know, yourself. “I am leaving.”

“Then I’m seeing things. Clearly you’re not.”

He climbed up onto his elbows, and, watching you as he reached, plopped his damp hand down on top of yours again.

His eyes softened. “Don’t be weak, you’re strong. I’m not going anywhere.”

You bit your tongue. “I know.”

Then you lowered yourself back down on your stool. Suddenly, his face was mere inches away from yours. “But I will be.”

“Where… do you go?”

“Home,” you sighed. “Meaning, I drive a car to get to this building.”

“Metal death traps,” he mumbled, less like a retort and more sullen.

He made a grab a little higher up, tentatively taking your shoulder. You exchange a wide-eyed look with him, but for him, it was your sweater. He stroked it with abandon.

“Is it soft?” you asked.

Nod.

Inspired, you leaned a little to encourage him to lay his arm over your shoulders.

Levi stiffened significantly, but followed through, still rubbing. At his confidence, you then stiffened until you were like two flustered mannequins pushed up together.

You shivered. His full cheeks were warm, but downturned—still, he made no effort to pull away. Fingers clutched, and then his other arm wrapped around you.

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured, but even that sounded too loud in the room, just like your heartbeat. “I missed you every day.”

He hunched, so you bullied your arms over the rim and touched his waist to prove it—then gaped a little. His muscles were, like a tank . Skin warm, like an oven—

Levi’s arms clamped around your back, nearly knocking the breath out of you.

Both your arms fell down around him, and squeezed back.

This seemed almost like a contest to him too, so he tightened in response. Suddenly a rush of comfort washed over you, an inexplicable sense of safety you couldn’t get from something so simple as a locked door.

That was Levi. He had qualities that made him feel so unmistakably sturdy that anxiety simply washed off your shoulders to be so close. You closed your eyes.

Warm water dampened your sleeves, and ebony hair tickled your temple. Surprisingly, only a hint of warm salt clung to your nose. It reminded you of a swelling shore, of tropical trees.

You wonder what he smelled, with a nose like his, but he seemed reluctant to pull away whether it was good or bad.

Swallowing, you leaned and buried your face in the warmth of his neck—on the side where his gills didn’t lie.

He chirped at the sudden movement, but didn’t move. His hands only continued their subtle stroking, up and down.

Despite the plastic rim digging into your bruised navel, you found yourself smiling.

“Am I…” He stopped. “Am I still a person you don’t know?”

His low voice by your ear made you grit your teeth so as to not shiver. This felt so intimate .

Was it wrong? It didn’t feel wrong, so you didn’t doubt your answer.

“No. Not at all.”

“Didn’t.” He huffed softly, his belly rising under your hands. “I didn’t know. Didn’t mean to. I—I’m sorry.”

“Forgive yourself,” you whispered. “It never even occurred to me, Levi.”

He snuffled your warm wool in lieu of a response. Maybe if you were deceiving him, he could smell the anxiety of that, too.

You laid your head down on his shoulder. “Do you feel better?”

A tut. His palm followed up and held the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver outright, and close your eyes.

“I would've made you leave if I didn’t,” he replied.

Days of these clandestine meetings passed you by. As such, you had realized a few things.

One, Hange wasn’t only your best friend, but a lifesaver.

“It has nothing to do with him tolerating me now!” they had told you. “I feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t preface to Levi how that was the reason you regained access to the wave pool, albeit with some containers occupied. It had been a long time since you saw his eyes light up that much, and it seemed his sickness was petering away as well.

Two, you may have been developing… some infatuation.

Since the first night when he embraced you, repeats of the moment have dashed over your mind at random points: alone in bed after the meetings, hell, when you were brewing coffee in the mornings (and before you departed for said meetings as well).

When Levi was in the water and out of your line of sight, you felt his eyes on you constantly, but whenever you tried to meet his gaze, his attention suddenly went elsewhere.

But oddly… he had been finding random excuses to touch you less . It was confusing.

And every meeting turned the confusion up another notch, it seemed.

You had no experience in this sort of thing. You never felt any need to, either, but more and more you had been wishing you did. This relationship wasn’t normal—far from it—but you couldn’t convince yourself that it felt wrong.

You didn’t want to leave him alone again, even without taking account of how it would have hurt him.

Which was what has made some recent developments all the more unnerving: Erwin may or may not have been wising up to what you and Hange, but especially you, had been up to.

Erwin was as intelligent as he was conniving; the way his mind works was a mystery, which left plenty of room for you to find clues and land yourself on some wild conclusions.

It was in his polite, prolonged silences during conversations on any regular work day over coffee—as if he was waiting for you to say something totally removed from the topic.

His repeated mentions about Levi through email and invoices despite you having been reassigned. Having known your father personally, you wanted to believe he was doing it for your peace of mind, but your gut told you to doubt it.

As you sat stooped over a crate in the changing room of the wavepool, wiping every speck of data (recommended by Eren) that may have had a chance to draw suspicion, you gnawed on your thumb. A new nervous habit of yours which Levi had repeatedly told you to quit.

Hange knew of course, you had told them. It was the middle of the work week, and on Saturday, they had informed you, you were both meeting Erwin for brunch for…camaraderie he would say. You had to confront him much earlier than expected.

You feathered your damp hair off your face, squirming in your wetsuit (which you brought from home to seem even more innocuous). Clammy sweat was coagulating underneath from Levi, quite literally, swimming laps around you earlier, but his muffled chirps as you struggled to kick through the water after him made defeat taste a little less bitter.

You hadn’t pulled the beach ball out for him again, though, and his attention to you wasn’t exclusive to the air anymore. In the water with him, his eyes had begun to stray to you more and more.

An image flashed in your mind—his upside down smirk from just earlier.

You nibbled on your thumb with a small groan. Focus.

Or, when it came to tossing your earring at you through the salty water. You had cried his name (fumbling for the button on your helmet that would make your voice heard). That same smirk, but wider, had quirked his lip as he easily shot through the water like a bullet and snatched it from the water’s clutches.

You asked yourself what the point of fantasizing was when he was still just outside.

The whole reason you had your laptop at all was because you had neglected to erase this data earlier. This was your routine every few days because you worried that doing it too often would have been suspicious as well.

Something small, but heavy smacked the door, making your head turn. A beanbag?

You were done with the computer, anyway.

When you calmly step out, Levi was glowering from the pool’s edge, his head resting on two folded arms.

“Slow,” he spat. “Come back.”

A fiery ache crawled into your hamstrings at the idea of more swimming.

“You really give me a workout,” you sighed, plopping down on the edge with a grunt. Your legs swayed through the water mindlessly.

“Repeat.”

He had gotten into the habit of saying that when he didn’t understand.

“You… tire me out,” you explained. “Humans aren’t equipped for swimming all hours of the day.”

A snort. He eyed your hands moving to massage your aching thighs. “Land people are so soft.”

You pouted some. “Are not . All throughout human history, the strength of—”

Levi planted his palm flat on top of your thigh. Your automatic flinching back made him pull away, surprise in his eyes.

“You’re jumpy.”

You sputtered, “People are sensitive there. Haven’t you…” You glance below his waist; you shouldn’t go down that rabbit hole of thought again. “Nevermind.”

His lips parted in outrage. “I’m not an idiot. Your lecture was annoying, and touching you usually makes you shut up.”

It was your turn, for once, to glare at him. “On my leg.”

He crossed his arms and grumbled something you couldn’t make out.

“What was that?”

“Just.” He echoed your glare, but at the cement. “It’s not everyday you see those.”

You could forgive him for being curious, but you were curious too. After awkwardly patting the space next to you, he reluctantly lifts himself up on his arms and out of the water.

Flexing his thick biceps, all that was needed to carry his tail—which accounted for over a hundred pounds of his weight—put a different image in your head.

You pointed at his tail.

An odd look. “Are your hands… clean?”

You deadpanned. “You always say my cleaning habits are acceptable. A pretty big compliment, coming from you.”

“Tch!” It splashed the water, pushing a violent wave. “Whatever. Do what you want. Fine.”

The mood eventually flipped as you leaned and laid your palm down where his knees would be.

You were struck less by its incredible sliminess, just like a fish tail, and besides, you had gotten a relative idea upon your examinations of him. But here, you had time, and ample permission, to take him in.

It was so firm, almost rubbery, but your hand glided like butter. Slowly, you glided your palm up, again struck. His scales were countless in smooth texture and brilliant color, but it was undoubtedly a strong, packed muscle.

Levi made a wincing sound, and grabbed your wrist.

The look on his face was pinched, but it was hard to say from what, specifically.

“Does that hurt?” you asked.

“I didn't think... Ugh. Like you said,” he muttered. He let you slowly rub up and down his flank as you pleased. “Sensitive.”

You had figured that avoiding the center of his lap was safe. A blush heated your cheeks anyway. Had he never...?

Your hand skirted over hundreds of blues as your hand retreated towards his hip. Here, specks of scales marked where his tail ended.

You also figured that it was okay until he told you to stop, or batted your hand away.

Unable to resist, you traced a short line across his waist with one finger. The soft muscles on his navel flexed and tensed. “What about your tailfin…?”

He batted your hand away, and hissed abruptly, “My turn.”

You clenched the hand he couldn’t see to stop a shudder when a lithe hand floated onto your lower thigh. His skin contrasted sharply against black spandex, and you were covered, but the suit was tight; you felt irrationally exposed suddenly.

Then he lurched forward, lugging your knee up as he went.

The force had you throwing your elbows behind you with a hard grunt so you didn’t land flat on your back. “Levi!”

“Don’t be so soft,” he remarked. His fingers danced around your achilles’ heel, following up your calf, and you surrendered with your arm thrown over your face.

He was so strange . Did he realize how forward he was being?—At times he acted so awkward it was hard to tell.

No. This felt like revenge, as if he didn’t give you permission before.

You let him all but caress your leg, fold your knee up and down like pulling a lever, but when he tried spreading your leg apart, you yanked away. A hint of heat instantly bloomed in your lower half.

“ Levi,” you repeated, harder that time.

Anxiety fluttered your insides. Mortification made you snap—over how little it took, and mortification at yourself for wanting him to continue at all.

Obediently, he retreated back, but not without scrutinizing your hips with his eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, blushing. “I’ve never done that.”

You regain your seat. “No, I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Grunt. His hand reached and patted your head before scooting an awkward talking distance away.

Your eyes softened. Sometimes, more recently, he had begun to apologize for things and followed through by patting your head. It put into perspective what it really meant to him that his people almost never communicated in spoken word.

“I like it when you do that,” you told him quietly, hoping to lighten the mood.

A small chirp. He rolled his shoulders back when he was nervous, you had noticed, and he did that now. “Weird.”

“The pot calling the kettle black.”

You were anticipating his furrowed brows and pouty lips, and snorted. “You’re a weirdo. My legs aren’t toys, Lev’.”

He deadpanned. “Name-calling, huh?”

“Mhm.”

A flash of something behind his eyes, something lost, almost lonely, caught you before it disappeared as quickly as it came. His head turned towards the pool again.

Your lips parted. “Wait, did I offend you…?”

“No,” he immediately replies. “Just reminded me of somebody, Coconut.”

You gaped at the… insult? Name? Levi had a way of splitting your attention, but you decided to leave walking a tightrope of conversation for another day.

“ Coconut ?” you coughed, aghast. “Why coconut?”

He held up three webbed fingers, counting down as he went. “Strange name, number one. You’re strange. Hard and dislikable on appearance.”

“Hey—”

“No interrupting,” he snapped lightly, one finger left in the air. “Lastly, milk on the inside.”

“Is it at least…” You laughed at the idea. “...good milk?”

He looked at you like he was correcting a stupid child. “I didn’t say you were a sour coconut, did I?”

Snorting, that same warm feeling tossed over your chest again. “Thank you, then... That’s very creative.”

Levi looked taken aback by the compliment, which made you think, Have we ever ‘hung out’ like this before? Like two friends?

Not like this.

“Fucking weird,” he muttered. “You don’t just…”

“…Thank people?” you finished. Your science brain switched on. “Okay, how do you do it?”

With a cute huff, he leaned down and splashed more water on his face before turning back to you. Drops followed down the bridge of his nose and ran together at his chin.

You were soon caught off-guard by how close he was, his hand propped up close to your own. He, or you, could have moved your little fingers and touch, which unsurprisingly put your nerves on edge again.

“This—” He reluctantly pointed to his lips, then his forehead, “—here.”

“...Oh.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I used to think it was creepy too, when I was a kid. I wasn’t raised in a pod like that.

“But that’s why you don’t just throw up your emotions. Don’t take shit lightly. Words are… not my culture. So actions are commitment.”

You jerked your head up and down, wishing that you had your notepad within reach. “Wait, what kind of pod?”

His lips pressed, and his eyes went to the ground. “…Don’t get off topic.”

“Well, for me, it was just me and my dad,” you compromised. Maybe talking about yourself more will inch him out of his shell. “My mom, well.”

Levi looked up.

“She died giving birth to me. Then—” It was ten years ago? “—ten years ago I lost my dad. So, my ‘pod’ wasn’t perfect, either.”

In your peripheral, you spotted him nibbling on his lip. “…My group,” he murmured. Stopped. “My pod is the same. Except my uncle left me.”

“Left you? As in, alone?”

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I turned out fine and I don’t know where he is, so he might as well be dead. That’s fine with me.”

By the way he looked now, you knew he couldn’t have been totally truthful. His mother was a much more sensitive topic. No father, it seemed.

Affection was like squeezing thorns to do for you. But you still wanted to thank him the way he wanted, so you tapped his jaw to draw his attention towards you.

He jolted, as if from a dream, and blinked at you. “Are you still determined to thank me for no reason?”

Your jaw wobbled. “Were you not serious?”

His eyes flashed. Apparently he wasn’t on the same page as you. Embarrassment flooded your belly, and you went to pull away, but his hand around your wrist once again stopped you.

“Okay,” he grunted. “Do what you want.”

He had a habit of saying that, even though you knew he would take action if you overstepped a line.

Either way, you were in too deep now, so you picked up his chin with two fingers, and kissed above the wrinkle between his brow.

When you pulled away, you licked your lips on instinct, tasting salt.

Meanwhile, Levi stared at you blankly. The fact that he wasn’t… grading your performance in his head or something unnerved you.

“You idiot. Why did you make it last so long?”

You hadn’t realized. Your stare matched his. “What?”

“They’re quicker than that,” he tried to explain, his jaw working under your hand. “And you’re still touching me.”

What was wrong with you? You pulled away, only for your hand to be snatched and placed it roughly on his cheek.

Shocked, you let it happen—you didn’t know what else to do.

You stammered to apologize, which only made him hold tighter and glare at you.

“I mean it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

His silver eyes seemed to magnetize you. It became harder and harder to look away.

He spoke slowly, as if he measured each word as he went. “You’re not making sense.”

“I…thought I followed your directions.”

“No, it’s not just that you couldn’t follow simple directions when you’re supposed to be smart,” he argued. That stung. “You admitted what you wanted me for in the beginning, even though your hands weren’t violent.”

A spiky feeling low in your throat twists.

Your hand stayed where he pinned it, and you could feel his cheeks heat. Is this another way he communicated, and didn’t show you before?—To make you more truthful?

He swallowed visibly. “Your bravery is bordering on foolish for coming back here. I thought it was again for your own gain. You didn’t want Shit-Glasses to take credit for your work—”

You gaped. “That’s not true—”

“Then why are you here!?” he shouted, causing you to jerk away from the sound. Your hand followed suit, and he let it.

The gills on his neck visibly contracted in kind with a rough huff. “You disgust me if you want to come here and share those things about yourself, then continue with your plan from the start.”

You shook your head in disbelief. There was so much in his argument to correct and explain that it gave you whiplash.

“I won’t accept you taking advantage of me,” he said, low and venomous.

“You are—” you slide a hand down your face, “—so wrong, I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then tell me.”

“I… I don’t know how.”

It wasn’t like you to not have some response, even a vague one. An indirect excuse that changed the topic. Something.

But, to condense this whirlwind into something he would understand when you hadn’t processed yourself—it was impossible.

“I’m not using you,” you tried.

“You sound like a foolish seagull,” he spat. “Squaking its head off.”

“I’m not acting . Yes, before, I was telling Erwin, the one in charge of me, everything, but you saw through that. You see through everything, Levi.”

You gestured desperately when his expression didn’t change. Your fingers, you sensed, were trembling. “You’re different!—Do you understand?”

“No.”

You groaned. “I don’t know what you want from me! That’s all I can give right now!”

“I want a straight answer!” he yelled back, ears flicking with irritation. “You wouldn’t sacrifice what’s most important to you for reasons ‘ you can’t give ’.”

“I—I can’t.”

“I don’t believe you. Who’s paying you?—Or grading you on your work here?”

“Fuck.” You could scarcely hear yourself. “Whoever it is, they’re not paying me enough to make me be here!”

His lip curled into a snarl, contrasting sharply with his sudden lurch away from you.

It dawned on you that what you just said was wrong.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Repeat,” he orders, low.

You could not have possibly phrased what you said any worse.“That’s not what I meant.”

“So no one’s forcing you to be here but yourself,” he said. For the first time since your voices raised, the hardness in his eyes gave way to hurt. “I don’t get your motive, but you’re out of your depths either way.”

“…Why do you want to know so badly, Levi?”

His lips pressed, and he scoffed at the ground. “Do you know someone who likes being lied to?”

He had you there.

“I’m not lying. You make me…” God, your nerves were shot. “Confused.”

“…If you ask me, you should stop stumbling in the dark here and go back to your priorities from before. You’re a smart girl, so. It doesn’t—make sense, your confusion.”

His clean, blunt observation stunned you into silence.

Why weren’t you smart enough to figure that out yourself? Emotions were impossible.

You needed a moment. “…I don’t want to do that.”

His hollow gaze flickered over. “You want to be more selfish?”

The question was so flat it could have been mistaken for a straight line.

You tried to be blunt, like him. “I want to. But I shouldn’t.”

He huffed like a bull before scooting and dropping off the pool’s edge. When his head broke the water, he was wading further away.

He flicked his bangs out of his face, and told you, “Don’t come back here until you get it together. You’ve defied every ‘shouldn’t’ already, you gull.”

You had never heard his voice waver so much before. You needed a moment to process just that, but you weren’t even given that before he disappeared. A violent splash from his tail was tonight’s goodbye, pelting your face.

Was that his aloof, indirect, grumpy version of a confession?—At any point during that mess? You didn’t think Levi would have pushed so hard if it wasn’t so important.

No, probably not.

You sat motionless, wiping your face with the back of your arm. No wonder, really: he would have worried about being deceived or abandoned given all that had happened to him.

Just barely, he could still be spotted far under the water as a small, blue blur. How painful would it be to take him back to the exam room, at this point?

You sighed roughly and rubbed your stinging eyes, praying Hange would once again be your lifesaver. If they came in early, no one would suspect anything. It was already getting dangerously close to that time, anyway.

You hated to ask another favor, but energy to take care of it right now escaped you.

As if you had anything to stay for. Levi had even told you to go, and possibly not to come back.

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

The key trembled lightly in the lock as you jabbed it in.

Levi had told you to get yourself together.

You sniffed as you strapped on the oxygen tank for your scuba gear. Today, Hange had had the opportunity to lock Levi in his pool container since the tests had been much lighter.

He was not a person.

Gentle waves kissed your fingertips. Tropical, salty water.

You were a miserable excuse for not only a professional, but a person.

Deep enough underwater for the surface to seem like another world, Levi’s belly kissed the base of his container. A sharp mask of indifference laid heavily on his brow, and yet, his palm pressed flat on the glass.

You counted yourself thankful for the underwater: else, your hands would have been horribly clammy.

With a little touch-and-go, you grabbed hold of both sides of the tank so you could slip into the little crevice between the door and “open” water. The space was just enough for your feet to slot in so you could talk.

That was what you wanted before anything else—like him brushing you off.

You resisted the urge to plant your palm with his, and fingered the button on your helmet.

“Hi,” you greeted. “I have a treat I thought you might like. I’m going to let you out for a while—but join me?”

He stared, deliberating. “You shouldn’t . Remember?”

“Yes,” you murmured, eyes somewhere else. “I do.”

“You’re not used to breaking the rules.”

“I know, but… I’m a little more used to it now.”

He glanced between your face and his palm. “It better be good, then.”

The air, as thick and briny as it was, was a cool summer compared to the helmet. You let your eyes fall shut as you breathed it in.

Levi turned the bright green thermos around and around in his hands, and spied up at it from the bottom. He “sat” just beside you, his tail still in the water.

His head tilted curiously. Damn your heart for fluttering when a little chirp cracked the silence. Ping-ping-ping , his tapping, echoed.

You set your helmet aside and braced your hands behind you, miles more relaxed than before. “You can drink it, too.”

“Not so fast.”

He pushed his bangs back and all but ignored you, brow quivering in focus.

It occurred to you again, Hange’s advice. Desperate times called for desperate measures, which meant discussing your love life (what a weird term) with them.

They hadn’t judged, but you chocked that up to Hange’s… Hange-ness . They claimed to fall in love with their assortment of “sea babies” all the time.

(Mostly deep sea oddities. Weird, but now so were you, and you might have been serious).

“You’re staring again,” he mumbled, eyes squinting.

Near the water, his eyes always shone so blue compared to the clinical lights inside Sector 3 proper. The sight was attractive.

You looked away, working your bottom lip between your teeth. “You want me to stop?”

He didn’t reply, so you didn’t stop.

But he was attractive, period. The thick, rippled muscles on his belly, his biceps, and his back looked soft in a way. It was—as it had been, in your own bed—too easy to picture them wrapped around you, or holding you down.

Ping-ping-ping .

“I recognize this thing,” he told you, after much deliberation.

The world, followed by your heart, froze. “You mean, just the container?”

Suddenly, his expression deteriorated into something grim. His thumb feathered across the sticker Dad had once slapped onto the tin: a cartoonized blue whale in a beach shirt and sunglasses sipping a margarita, something straight out of a Hawaiian tourist trap. The bubble letters below read, Fuck Whaling!

“L-Levi…What?”

That wouldn’t make sense. Dad had searched for mers longer than he was alive, and if he had come across Levi, well, the whole fucking world would have heard.

“Levi,” you implored again. “Where have you seen it before?”

His lips pressed “On… On a blue boat.”

You gave him, in a cold, choppy series of sentences, Dad’s name and what he had looked like. If it was true that Levi had either come across one of his fishing boats, or interacted and Dad somehow forgot, or—

He stammered to respond, now clutching the thermos to his chest. It must have been warm.

“Look…” Shoulders hunched, he looked down towards the water, where his tail fin swished up and down. He made a hissing noise. “You would dissect me, you’d do it yourself if I told you. It seemed like he was important to you when you talked about him.

If your attention hadn’t been taken before, it certainly was now.

You raked your mind for scenarios, what Levi was capable of, and what Dad hadn’t been. The latter wouldn’t have hurt a wasp if it flew up and stung him, but you couldn’t imagine Levi ever causing harm to anyone or anything for the thrill of it.

The only reason you could think of for Levi starting off with that was… some kind of harm. But you remembered his revulsion when you had shared myths of sirens with him.

Warily, you edged closer and touched his arm.

He straightened up and turned to you with wide eyes. The last time you had touched him of your own volition you started that argument.

“I wouldn’t,” you said. “You should know I wouldn’t. I’m sorry if, some of my actions told you otherwise.”

“They didn’t,” he shot back immediately. “But don’t say that so fast.”

“Then tell me.”

So, with the thermos protectively cradled to his belly, he told you how he had come to meet Dad.

Many years ago , he said. Ten , he answered when you asked him to elaborate.

What you remembered from that day mainly centered around the weather channel on TV rather than the phone call that had come later, oddly. A tropical storm had been picking up steam off the coast where he had been determined to sail.

“The waters were stormy,” he explained.

And the name scrawled on the side of the ship in “fancy letters”, Matilda , which finally annihilated the possibility, in your mind, of some case of mistaken identity.

Inwardly you curled in on yourself. That little fishing boat that your father practically lived on—save for the houseboat—had sunk that day. You couldn’t even remember why he had been so adamant to go out that day, that was how little it mattered, but Dad had been so stubborn.

Why had Levi been so close to Dad’s fishing boat that day?

“One of my friends was sick at the time, so… I was in the area,” he answered reproachfully.

Levi retold the moment he noticed broken remnants of wood whooshing from the surface of the rough waves. The storm was that strong, and the boat that unequipped.

When Matilda had capsized, Levi began to flee. He would not, in confidence, have done anything if there had been any more than a single person in trouble; people were more dangerous than what they were worth, was his opinion.

“W-What did you do?” you asked in a small voice.

“I saw this—” he taps the thermos, “—hanging to his back...bag.”

Yes, he was trying to survive. It was found that exact way, on Dad, on rocks.

“No beaches near there,” Levi went on. “But rocks. All you people have baby lungs, but, I didn’t…” With a cut sigh, he stopped.

“It’s okay,” you tried. The more Levi spoke, the more you suspected that he was innocent. “You’re doing well. Keep going, please.”

As he went on to explain what he did next, he hugged the thermos.

“I was a fool,” he stated, voice flat. “I never interacted with you people, I didn’t fucking want to, but I didn’t want to watch one die.

“I didn’t know what to do. Seemed he was drowning on the air. Coughing. Grabbing.”

“He—saw you?”

His jaw wobbled, like he was about to argue, but then nodded. “In the end, I—I didn’t know how to get water out. For that… I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Forgive me.”

You couldn’t tell what you were feeling, but not… whatever would motivate you to “dissect” Levi. You stared off into nothing, or maybe the past.

What are the odds?—When he left that morning… Was he looking for Levi? Had he seen him?

You shook your head sharply, because you would never know; there was no point wondering. If there was nothing else you prided yourself on, it was a level, rational mind.

Could Dad have lied? You always wanted to believe he wouldn’t have done something that stupid unless it was for a good reason.

You always wanted many things, besides the answers. One last chat over sweet tea on those stupidly cheap lawn chairs, one last session with Dad tutoring you in math. You wanted him back .

Levi matched your forlorn expression. That day stuck with him. Even if he was wearing that cold mask to hide any vulnerability, the way he held the thermos and completely avoided your eyes spoke loudly enough.

“Thank you,” you managed. “Levi, I’m still not gonna hurt y—”

“I did nothing,” he rebuked. “Less than.”

You ignored him. “Thank you for trying.”

With a heavy sigh, you scrubbed your hands down your face. You needed something different—to not relive that day.

So, you tapped the plastic head of the thermos. “You twist it.”

“Hm.”

“It’s tea.”

“Never had that,” he replied, glaring skeptically.

You tried to smile. “Well, maybe you’ll like it.”

After a small, anxious side-eye, he popped the top open. You watched him hold it up and sniff, delighted by the slight quirk in his lip; it was nice seeing him experience something he seemed to like (so far).

Then, he tilted the rim towards his mouth, sipped, and abruptly paused. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Is it good?”

Without replying, he tilted it again at a much sharper angle to properly drink, and chirped in delight. His tail splashed the water’s surface a little, drawing round ripples, which brought a smile to your cheeks despite yourself. Levi deserved to be happy.

He drinked, and occasionally you chatted, but the silence felt more fitting. It was actually comfortable to you, for once.

The mood sobered when the tea was almost all gone. He never offered to share, which you preferred to think proved how much he was enjoying the drink.

Once it was properly empty, his tongue traced around the rim. You averted your eyes, clearing your throat awkwardly.

His eyes flickered over to you. “Less sugar next time.”

“Yeah. Alright.”

He is so…

Had he known what he was doing? You tried to dismiss that thought, because you still had that other conversation you wanted to start.

Hange told you to: “Butter him up, sit him down, and be honest.”

Quite literally, that was all. One step left, right?

Dad’s passions were what set you on the path to science in the first place, now that you were once again thinking of him. This was mainly what made your responsibility that your feelings were getting in the way of.

Even more so, Dad sparked a light in you for creatures from the sea. It wasn’t always mers, or sea monsters—you used to roll your eyes whenever he brought up that stuff—until he passed on with his work still unfinished.

A different flame roared to life in you: to not let his work go unfinished, even if you disproved it somehow.

Fleetingly, you wondered what would have been different had Dad lived through what happened, having seen Levi. You knew he would’ve adored getting to know him, similar to Hange, similar to you. It was humbling.

You loved your work, you loved studying Levi, but… you wanted more than that. And it was looking more and more likely that that meant following your mind, or your heart.

He leaned back on his hands, the empty thermos now set beside him. “Couldn’t you quit anytime you wanted and come back later?”

You let your eyes fall gently shut, laughing scornfully. “Not if what you, me, and Hans are doing goes wrong. And if it goes right, I… I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not gonna like this answer,” you said. “But I don’t know right now.”

“Oh,” he muttered. “Fine, I’ll let you think on that… But don’t you wanna do anything else? Or do you just spend your time ogling my home like hungry vultures?”

“I love my work, Levi. I live for it.”

His eyes widened a fraction. In the first place, working for a living probably stumped him. “You don’t live for anything else?”

Intrigued, you arched a brow at his frown. “Um, like what?”

“Family. Friends. Sex? Eating.” He scoffed. “You’re weirder than others, but no one should be working till they drop dead.”

Levi had not met as many humans as he acted like did, but he had a point.

You hummed, deep in thought.

“Glasses likes you.”

You blinked “They talk about—me?”

“Like you do them,” Levi retorted. “You're the only topic I tolerate.”

That remark fueled a growing blush to your cheeks. “…They’re a really good friend,” you settled on, after much thought. “Of course I—I care about them, but, it’s complicated.”

He waited, but then grew irritated when you didn’t elaborate. “Speak.”

You could have laughed at the incredulousness of the demand, but you only crossed your arms. You felt like a turtle with no shell.

“We kinda—” you gestured, “—had a thing.”

He deadpanned. “A thing.”

“A romantic thing, but I never felt that way! For anyone, honestly! So, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Levi softened a little.

Then you awkwardly added, “Eating’s okay, but I don’t love it.”

“What about sex?”

“Um—” You felt your face practically catch fire. “No? I wouldn’t really know,” you tittered. “That’s a weird question to ask, Levi.”

“Tch. Hardly. Humans have sex for fun, don’t they? Like dolphins.”

“Do you?”

“…That’s personal.”

“Exactly.” Then again, you were curious. “Don’t you have romantic customs, your kind I mean?”

Just like always, at any mention of his home, he grew quiet. “Like I said. My pod was different. I don’t fucking know, and I don’t care to.”

The fins by his ears flick like he was irritated, but he went on: “When my uncle left, it was me and my friends for a long time. I found one, and the other found me.”

You wondered which one was which, but this was a rare time that he was being candid. Interrupting was out of the question.

His voice was so quiet, it didn’t even echo. “We are much like dolphins, I know that much. You travel in packs. One dies, the pod stays the same. Many die, you find somewhere else. If you’re alone, you usually get sick or more hunted, and die.”

“Even someone as strong as you?”

His chest puffed out when he huffed. A little smirk flashed on his face. “I know what I’m doing. But one day everyone runs out of luck, like, that day.”

You looked away.

“So I don’t have many options if you decide to throw me back. Those two were…” He rolled his shoulders back, and yours brushed. “I only wanted to be responsible for those lives... I failed.”

You were seized by a cold feeling. If those like Levi were so reliant on each other to survive, to the point where loneliness was enough to ensure that he would have been—that something horrible would happen to him…

Your voice shrunk to a whisper. “But Levi, there has to be something better than this.”

A long stretch of time crept past before he tutted, just a little. That sharp, hollow pain on his face was more exposed than ever.

“I’m tired,” he muttered.

Your heart rocketed up to your throat. You startled yourself from how quickly you jerked up straight, and him even more as you touched his shoulder.

He looked a finger snap away from asking you what the hell you were doing, but it was too late to pull away now.

“Please,” you implored him, “don’t. I don’t care that you aren’t like me, as if you’re not imprisoned in a, a fucking laboratory right now. M-My research is important to me, but you—”

Levi’s eyes were round. An idea flashed in your mind, that perhaps this kinder side of Levi was the last thing Dad ever saw.

“I don’t know if what I’m doing is right anymore. But I know I care! I’m not going to do nothing. I want to find a way.”

He tensed, but didn’t shake off your hand. He leaned into it, a little.

“There is… no way,” he ground out. “Don’t bother. The consequences would ruin you.”

“Levi, look at me,” you beckoned in a small voice.

He did, searching for any signs of deception.

“Can I…?“ Your hand hovered over his cheek, which he didn’t even spare a glance to before nodding into it. But he looked almost tortured.

“What’re you doing?” His voice was small as well.

“You know I’m smart enough. Let me prove that I mean this,” you told him, rather lamely. You had never done this.

Fluttering blinks. The warmth spreading across his cheeks mingled with the batches of scales decorating his high cheekbones.

He practically fell into your hand as one of his skimmed up the outside of your arm, then your jaw.

“S-Soft,” he muttered. “You’re so good it’s stupid.”

You laughed nervously. “Do—Do you know what a kiss means?”

“Yes.” Your foreheads brushed. “Do you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, smiling despite your peaking anxious nerves.

Your lips brushed, then touched, and then stuttered into easy movement. A feeling high and bright buzzed through your veins, rendering you so breathless you resisted the urge to pull away and gasp for air.

It soon became clear that Levi picked up on a shallow, but solid understanding of what to do. You had much less.

His head tilted, followed by his other hand scooping up the other side of your jaw to guide you. You heard yourself squeak, and you could have swore that past the huff that hit your face, he was smiling.

His were as plump as they always looked, and almost excruciatingly soft. You imagined taking his bottom lip between your teeth, and parting them like dough.

Your lungs were screaming— “You’re so soft,” replayed in your head—so you pulled back a fraction, just to take a breath, before your hand dove over the nape of his neck and combed his hair backwards, deepening it.

Levi actually sighed , almost a whimper, and then you pulled away before he could get the satisfaction of feeling you shiver.

Of course he didn’t need to catch his breath, but you did: your heart was racing.

Almost slyly, he licked his pouty lips and leaned back in. His nose knocked your jaw, and the shell of your ear.

“Are you sniffing me?” you giggled breathlessly.

“You wouldn’t get it,” he huffed sharply, nosing your hairline. “You fucking…”

Dodging his lips, you took his lips again for a quick peck. “Weirdo.” And then again.

He responded in kind, but he surprised you by abruptly throwing an arm around your waist so your chests smushed together. His lips glided over yours like he was actively hungry for it.

This outright show of pure desire—it struck something in you, especially after how little interest he ever explicitly showed you.

When it ended, permanently this time, Levi’s lips were deliciously swollen. Below his glazed silver eyes, a deep blush mingled with his scales, and stretched down his neck.

You realized, with some embarrassment, that you had messed up his damp hair. Breath still escaped you.

He licked his lips as a hand ran away from your waist and touched your knee. Above the dotted translucent scales marking the beginning of his tail, soft muscles on his belly rose and fell.

“Fool,” he murmured fondly. “Now that you’ve given me a taste of that, you won’t ask me to make that the last one, will you?”

The ache between your thighs, honestly, was excruciating. You really wanted him to talk more, gruff and low like that, while his hunger was satiated in other places.

“Fuck, no.” You gathered yourself. “We’ll figure something out, you hear me? I won’t give up on you.”

His head tilted; the look on his face said he wanted to believe that, but he was torn.

“Don’t be joking. You’re serious?” His voice rose at the end in secret hope, desperation.

You made a choice. “I am.”

You thrusted your pinkie finger up between you, only for him to jerk back, startled.

His eyes flickered up to your urging ones, then back your outstretched pinkie, then back to you once more.

You said nothing, curious as to how he would react.

Reluctantly, he wrapped a warm, rough hand around your wrist and held it up, like he meant to blow a bubble. Then he kissed it, so soft you could barely feel it, before looking to you for approval.

You grinned, full and wide. “Good. It means I promise.”

“Ah.” Kiss. “Promise.”

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

99 notes · View notes