In which Levi wishes he hadn’t let go.
A/N: So old, originally for Rivetra week. Would have been ‘dream’.
The low rub of metal on metal surrounds him with the sound of rushing air, invading his mind—and it is -as always with such adrenaline-, a heightened sensation. His chest is tight and heavy as sharp, charcoal orbs flit about, falling on one, after another, crumpled, broken, bleeding form. Their eyes all glazed and passed from this world; lifeless, cold and— the pain furthers in his chest, in his gut, in his lungs as his speed increases, as the thought of finding her becomes all that fills his mind. Gunther, Erd, Auruo- gone. Yes, gone. Oh, and where is she? The last to be found, or rather, maybe he would prefer not to find her here. No, with Eren. With Eren. She’s with Eren.
If only that were true. The rough rasp of leather on tree bark scrapes his ear drums- he’s found her… with the others, as she always is… always was. His chest grows ever tight, and it’s as if he’s the one that isn’t breathing. His lungs refuse oxygen. Charcoal orbs peer into lifeless, tender, copper eyes, staring up at him with a cracked spine from the rippling grass below. Her amber fringe plays at a brow that is broken and upturned, her body collided with the tree bark on the silky earthen carpet, her pink lips slightly agape and pouring -as does her nose-, crimson in streams up her freckled-spiced cheek, painted with the speckled splay of lighted dots and shadows that break over her through the thicket above, casting splotchy patterns over her otherwise porcelain face. She is… such a contrast of beauty and disgust, rough and soft, life and death and he wishes he didn’t know this woman. Oh, but he does. All too well. It grows so vivid, the pain in his gut, the swirling sensation in his chest, the regret and anxiety that drown him-.
"Levi! Levi! LEVI!"
He’s startled awake, chest heaving, forehead dripping; the room feels as if it were aflame, the air he exhales no different. Sharp, widened, charcoal orbs beneath a broken brow fall over her form next to him; there’s fear and pain and sadness painted in those honey eyes.
"Levi. It’s all right. It was-"
His arms snake around her form so tightly, it grows hard to breathe, but she makes no complaint, eyes softening. “Le-Levi…”
She doesn’t need to ask him what’s just transpired in the nightmarish world of his mind, for that which plagues him is always the same the evening before expeditions. And with Eren tomorrow, she imagines it to have been only worse. Her free arm strokes gently at the shaved part of his undercut, intertwining her porcelain legs with his within this sea of sheets,ensnared by his muscular form as though she would cease to exist should he let go.
He wishes he hadn’t let go.