You're lovley leader Rivaille Ackerman here and today I am proud to announce that we are once again opening up title requests [hopefully this will be the last time we open them; we would like for this to be a permanently open thing]!
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Please note that you won't receive your title straight away under some circumstances; us moderators are people too so we'll get to you as soon as possible!
Inspired by an idea from @reikasart. SPOILERS! @rivamikaevents
*
It starts with a touch. He walks up to her during thunder spear training, adjusting the weapon on her arm. After tightening the metal cuffs on her forearm, he reaches to shift it up higher. It must have been out of concern from the misfired spear the previous week: the accident that led to her cutting her hair. He’s no stranger to doing things like this for the soldiers working under him. The thing is, he’s never done it for her because her form is perfect and everything she does is properly measured and precise.
But this touch: it ignites in her something she’s never quite felt before. It’s electric, producing goosebumps all up her arms and a catch of breath in her throat. There’s a mild chill in the air, but, even if it weren’t there, she’s sure that the brush of his fingers would feel hot against the skin of her wrist. She wonders how a single touch can cause such a reaction (one that she never felt from anyone else…not even Eren). And surely it can’t be the first time it’s happened.
Late that night, however, she realizes that it was one of the few times that he had been so close to her. Even in the past, when walking side by side or near to each other, he always kept a respectful buffer between him and others (not just her). All of the Survey Corps begged to see them train together, to spar. Each time, he made an excuse for why he couldn’t. She may have and still did want to see if she could best him: regardless, his brushing off never bothered her much. It doesn’t now, either: not necessarily, at least.
She stares at the ceiling through the darkness as Sasha snores in the nearby bed. Her hands lie one on top of the other on her stomach. She reaches to run fingertips over the spot, which fails to produce the same feeling as earlier. There’s no mark, nothing there to indicate that it even happened. And, ridiculously, she wishes there were. She twists her fingers together in a knot to try to settle herself down, to keep herself from touching it further.
She pays more attention to him after this: sidelong glances, looks from underneath her eyelashes when they eat, quickly aborted stares when there’s no one around. She tries to get close to him to see if she can maybe brush hands with him, if she can to graze a finger against him, if she can feel that feeling again. She’s never quite close enough, always moves away before it can happen.
And then she tamps down the feelings, shoves them deep inside of her, because she still feels strongly, fiercely for Eren. If she starts to question how deep those emotions go, she stops herself, chokes on the thoughts, hates it all. And when she looks at Eren and wonders if his touch might ever replicate the pleasant burn of Levi’s (wonders what is even going on in his head because she wants to feel like she understands him even though she isn’t sure anymore, which is entirely unrelated to this new questioning, but she still banishes the thoughts like the rest).
And then she ends up with Marley with Eren, with him alone during that dark night, where he challenges her to explain why she acted the way she had, what she truly feels for him. And she thinks of that touch, wonders what it could mean, stumbles over her answer of “You’re family,” and can’t be sure what she’s afraid of when she tells him that.
Levi learns that it is secretly part of orientation to have a new recruit approach him and ask why he buys an Americano every morning only to dump it in the sink and make tea. The withering glare and assignment of more work allows them to get a stronger start than they might otherwise have. Erwin tells him this one day after he demands to know why the new kid was high fived following their exchange.
“I think it helps them,” Erwin says, with one of those smiles on his face. Levi narrows his eyes behind his tea. “Gets them used to how things work around here.” He leans back in his chair. “So, how is she?”
The narrowed eyes turn into a full-blown glare like earlier. He’s the only one who knows why Levi has this habit.
(The beautiful young woman behind the counter told him they didn’t have tea the first day the coffee shop opened. He had been annoyed and perhaps took it out on her too much. The old shop that this one replaced had a huge tea selection. Why did they fuck that up with just having this coffee shit? Is something like what he said, probably. He can’t quite remember, nor her answer, because he was distracted by the smile that then lit up her face when someone else walked in.)
“She wasn’t there today.” And the blond-haired young man who served him gave him such odd looks throughout the process. He still isn’t sure what to make of it.
“Are you ever going to say something?” Erwin asks behind steepled fingers. Erwin, who is single as fuck and awkward on top of it, is always ready to give him advice.
“No, I’m going to spend my life savings on these shitty drinks and get old. Have you ever tasted that shit? It’s fucking awful.” Erwin just laughs.
“You know, there is a tea shop opening down the street soon.”
“No shit. I walk past the building every day.” Levi stands, because he has work to do and knows where this is going. He knows there is a smile pointed at his back as he walks out the door. He pauses, hand on the knob. “And I’d do it if it didn’t make me look like a fucking creeper. What kind of asshole asks out someone who can’t walk away?”
“It worked for Nile!” is what he hears before the door closes. As though he would want to be like Nile.